“If you want to go, we ought to get going. We don’t got much time,” Bemmy said.
“I suppose it would not be too unusual for parties to become separated while shopping,” Caroline said.
“Commonest thing in the world.”
“And, after all, Lady Easton cannot hold it against Lady Redfield. The point was to be seen and we have been seen by quite a few people already. No mention was made of Lady Redfield accompanying us every minute as if she were a jailor.”
“Should we set off while you’re talkin’ yourself round to it?” Bemmy asked.
“Yes,” Caroline said firmly. “Let us go. There is no sense in missing a once in a lifetime opportunity by dithering here all day. We do no real harm.”
With that, Bemmy opened the bolt on the door and they slipped out into an alley behind the shop. They would have wished to run, as they still must visit Bemmy’s household to retrieve the hat and cloak that would be Caroline’s disguise, but that would have called attention to them. The streets were crowded with people heading toward the exhibition. They settled for a very fast walk and were there in under ten minutes.
Bemmy’s mother was a comfortable-looking woman whose only real concern of the day was how much her husband might drink at the exhibition. Bemmy was directed to slow him down if she could, as he got very maudlin when he drank. Apparently, the last time he’d over-imbibed, he’d wept for the dozen eggs in their kitchen, as they would never be chickens. There had been no use trying to convince him that the eggs had not had an encounter with a rooster and would never have been chickens anyway.
All Caroline had needed to do was switch her bonnet and don the old cloak in place of her pelisse. That done, they were on their way in a trice.
As they neared the place, the crowds swelled. Caroline and Bemmy joined in the stream of people, just two inconsequential people amongst dozens.
*
Richard sat inhis stall with his knee man, who happened to be his valet Kingston. His bottle man, Lord Easton, had wandered off somewhere, greeting no end of people he knew. It hardly mattered, he had no intention of allowing any of his matches to go on long enough to require a bottle or sitting on Kingston’s knee.
In truth, he thought his stamina would be one of his advantages, he could box all day long if necessary. He was determined to keep his opponent moving as much as possible, as he suspected many of them had been out late, indulging in drink, and would not be at their peak physical shape. Stupid that they would have done so, but he knew enough about gentlemen to know that they’d likely met to toast with one glass, which led to another and another. The key to preparing for anything physical was to forgo the one glass that leads on to too many.
The Prince had taken great care to see to the boxers’ comfort. He’d built stalls in a long line, connected to one another and made of rather flimsy wood as they were only meant to last through the exhibition. The front of each stall was only comprised of a curtain, still, it provided some privacy from the hundreds of eyes who had gathered at the seaside to lay their bets and watch the fighting unfold.
The matches would begin with random pairs, each victor advancing to the next round, until the final round and only one victor remained. Richard knew he was favored to be that final man, and as well he should be. He had every intention of it.
He had been doing his best to ignore the cacophony of voices swirling round him, not the least of which was from the neighboring stall housing Mr. Landon. If that fellow could box with his volubility he might get somewhere. As it was, Landon was Richard’s first match-up and he intended to make quick work of him.
The sudden intrusion of a female voice coming from Mr. Landon’s stall caught his attention.
“There you are, you beggar,” the woman said. “I done crossed half of England to track you down.”
“Good Lord, Annie,” Landon said, “what do you do here?”
“You know what I do here, I done told you of my condition and then you’re up sticks and gone in the night.”
“As I mentioned when you informed me of the happy news,” Landon said smoothly, “it could be anybody’s. In any case, I am certain it is not mine.”
“You know it’s yours!” Annie shrieked. “You’re the only man I’ve lain with. You’re the one who seduced me in that house! Now, the butler’s seen me growin’ and chucked me out.”
Richard glanced at Kingston, who stared with a certain fascination at the thin wall that divided the two stalls. He’d known Landon was no good, but seducing a maid? That was beyond the pale.
“Now you listen,” Annie said, “I got no intents on being left penniless and alone. You do the right thing.”
“What right thing?” Landon asked. “I haven’t any money.”
“You got to marry me and raise this child.”
“Have you lost your wits?” Landon asked with incredulity. “I cannot marry a scullery maid! Really now, you are being too ridiculous.”
“If you don’t,” Annie said, her voice full of fury, “I’ll tell all and sundry what you done.”
“You can go dance on a table and shout it to the world, but you won’t pin it on me. Now go on, get out of here. Bakewell, see this harridan out.”
As Bakewell apparently manhandled the woman out of the stall, the last that was heard from Annie was, “Just see if I don’t. Just see.”
