In the ring, the bigger fighter took a shot, a hefty right cross. The scrawny fighter ducked, spun, and came up from underneath with an upper cut that stunned his opponent. The larger man stumbled backward, then his knees quaked, and he sat down hard. Ricketts Boy danced around, fists in the air, as a cluster of grumbling men moved toward George.
Thad let out a low whistle. “You knew.”
George grinned. “Francis Bacon said it. ‘Knowledge itself is power,’ my friend. Never forget it. And stop forgetting your hats.”
Chapter Five
Thursday, 27 April 1826
Kirkstone House, Mayfair, London
Quarter to three in the afternoon
Mary closed herbook, stood, and moved from the settee in the front parlor to a wingback near the fireplace. Two minutes later, she went to the window overlooking the pavement outside.
Her sister-in-law, who had snuggled into one of the other settees in the room with a book and the house’s resident mouser, Bastet, peered at her over the top of her novel. “Why are you so fretful? He set the time. I doubt he will bow out now.”
Mary took a deep breath and turned to Beth. “I am not sure. He is... different.”
Beth stroked the cat. “How so?”
Mary shrugged.
“Do not shrug. Ladies do not shrug.”
“So my mother keeps telling me. I do not understand why.”
Beth smiled, a wan expression in an already pale face. Mary knew the past twenty minutes had been the first break Beth had allowed herself in the midst of an extremely busy day of packing, storing, and household management. Her only other breaks hadbeen to vomit. With the upcoming move to India, many of their belongings had to be crated and shipped in advance, and even now stacks of crates ran along the walls and behind the main staircase, similar to the ones that partially filled the servants’ hall and the stables. “Because it looks sloppy and can easily render your dress in a disheveled state.”
“And God knows we cannot have that.”
Even Beth’s low chuckle sounded exhausted. “It does not take much to set tongues a-wagging.”
“As if they were not already.” Mary stepped away from the window. “Why do we do this to ourselves? Women, I mean. Twist and trim and remake ourselves into something we are not? Just to marry? Men do not do this.”
“They have more resources than we do to survive. To make their way in the world. Most women need a position, a husband or a title, preferably both, in order to survive and not fall into ruin.”
“I think I already have that part taken care of.”
Beth shook her head. “Not to theton, you have not, despite the rumors. And you should never forget you are the sister of a respected duke, a man in service to the crown. You may occasionally want to claw his eyes out—”
“Do you not want to, on occasion?”
Beth finished around a grin. “But he is an honorable man, and that will go a long way in making sure you are cared for.”
“Thus this outrageous arrangement.”
“Which you did agree to. And your young man has politely given you a way forward, if you wish to discontinue and go back to launching yourself into the Marriage Mart, rumors and all. I am sure my mother would be glad to sponsor you.”
Mary bit her lower lip. “No.”
“I thought not. So let us see what Lord Thaddeus is all about.”
The pendulum clock on the first landing chimed three times, and a knock sounded from the front door. Mary took two steps in that direction, halted by Beth’s low voice. “No, Mary. Let Samples take care of it.”
Another reminder that London had different standards than estates in the north. Although Kirkstone Abbey had a butler, a fine one, and few visitors, they did not wait for him to be summoned from other duties just to answer a door.
“I am never going to get this right.”
