Lady Mary had barely turned eighteen, and when he had heard her age from Mrs. Dove-Lyon, he had expected the same kind of willowy and sedate debutante that he had avoided since his mother had dragged him to his first ball eight years ago,trying desperately to marry him out from under her roof. But even then the slight butterflies of thetonleft him feeling empty, bereft, as if he had eaten a supper of clouds and nonsense. They talked of nothing substantial and seem to disappear completely when not dancing or flirting.
His parents had tossed aside his comments with a blithe, “Of course, they do not discuss anything in depth. Women do not do that. They are looking for husbands, not business partners.”
But wasn’t that what atonmarriage was? A business arrangement?
Then he had met Lydia and knew his parents’ comments to be lies. There were true women of substance out there. Perhaps he could never be with Lydia, but Thad had to believe she did not exist in isolation. There had to be others. He had made up his mind to wait.
And today Thad had a glimpse that perhaps the waiting would be rewarded.
Thad found George near the main ring in the boxing salon of Campion’s Gentlemen’s Emporium, placing a bet in favor of a fighter who looked as if he had never met a lime, lemon, or orange. His skeletal frame and bumpy joints did not project a great deal of promise.
The blue smoke of a plethora of cigars and cheroots hung in the air around the ring, and a mug and a bottle of whisky sat at George’s feet. He shooed a gambler from the chair next to his and gestured for Thad to sit as he marked bets in a small notebook with a rough pencil. “What did the solicitor say?”
Thad sat down. “He agreed with you. Drew up a quick amendment. And I owe you ten pounds, by the way. He only charged five.”
George’s gaze remained on the fighter, now warming up. “Keep it. Did they sign?”
“They did. And . . . George . . .?”
“Yes?”
Thad clenched his fists, shaking them in front of him. “She is glorious!”
George slowly turned to face Thad, drawling out his name. “Thad...”
“I am going to see her at three. I have two weeks to figure out if this will work.”
“She is not Lydia.”
Thad stopped, staring at George. “Why would you say that?”
“Because the last time I saw you like this, it was Lydia. You don’t even know this girl.”
Thad opened his hands and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I know. But she is fiery and caring, and, I suspect, rather intelligent.”
George peered at him. “How long were you there?” He glanced at the top of Thad’s head. “And where is your hat?”
“At the solicitor’s. I think. I’m not sure. We were not there long, but she loves horses, and she stood up to her brother when he balked at the amendment, and...”
George’s eyes narrowed. “And what?”
“Um. I caught her staring at my thighs.”
The bark of laughter from George startled even the fighters in the ring. “Well, that shows promise. What do you plan to do with her today at three?”
“I thought perhaps a walk in the park.”
“That indicates a serious interest in the lady. Don’t be surprised if you get a lot of odd looks and questions. And I’ve got an appointment as well.”
“With whom?”
“A butcher I know. Da used to do a lot of business with him, and he provides meat to a lot of the finest houses. Knows all the cooks and housekeepers and thus all theon ditabout theton. Ifthere are any rumors about your girl, he’ll know... or be able to ferret them out.”
They both turned their attention to the ring. The gong sounded and the fighters moved into position.
“Do not dig too deep yet,” Thad said. “We should become more acquainted.”
“Just being prepared. Remember that knowledge is worth its weight in gold.”
