Chapter Nineteen
It had beena week since Jocelyn had injured her ankle. She could finally put light pressure on it and was able to get around on her own for the most part. Gunn was glad. She was beginning to resemble a caged animal, ready to burst through her confinement at the slightest chance.
“Ye certain ye’ll be fine with me away?” he asked for the hundredth time that morning. He and his friends were going to spend some time letting off steam with whisky and boxing.
“I’ll be fine. I believe the girls and I are going to get lost in a competitive game of bridge.” She smiled, trying to placate him of his guilt for leaving her.
“If ye need aught…”
“I won’t. Go. Have fun. Just go easy on the others,” she teased.
He captured her mouth in a kiss. Savoring her taste. “I want more of that later,” he stated, and left her in the drawing room, her laughter following him out the door.
The five men made their way into the town, deciding to get away from Leyson for the day. To see and talk with some of their friends that they hadn’t conversed with in some time.
“Drinks first, then boxing,” Alexander announced.
“Aye,” Nicholas said dryly. “That way we can all be pissed when Gunn punches us to oblivion.”
He chuckled, “I would ne’er.”
“Dinna deny it. We’ve seen ye this week. Lots of,” Malcolm paused for dramatic effect, “frustration ye need to work out. Might as well be in the ring.”
They were all laughing as they entered one of the gentleman clubs they’d frequented often. Choosing a table in the corner, they took their seats. Gunn signaled for a server. “Five glasses, and a bottle of whisky, please.”
The young lass curtsied and hurried off to fulfill their order.
He scanned the room. It was quite busy, a lot of the tables filled. He waved to a few familiar faces. An unfamiliar couple of men sat at one of the tables, heads together as they discussed whatever it was they talked about. Probably business, by their clipped tones.
Three single men sat at the bar. He didn’t recognize any of them, and they stuck to themselves. Quietly drinking, ignoring everyone else in the pub.
Their drinks arrived and they cheered their thank yous as the server set their glasses on the table with a clank and then poured them each a serving of whisky, leaving the half empty bottle on the table when she left.
Holding up their glasses, they all called outslaintè, and took a long pull of whisky.
The men at the bar turned to them to see what all the ruckus was about but quickly turned back to their own glasses.
“Willamina looks like she is going to have the bairn any day now, Finlay. Any hour, actually,” Alexander said.
Finlay sighed. “Aye. I’ve made peace with the knowledge that she will give birth here, rather than at home.”
“Ye ken ye are welcome to stay at Leyson as long as ye need.”
“Thanks, brother,” Finlay said, lifting his glass and emptying it in one long pull.
Every once in a while, Gunn felt like he was being watched, but whenever he looked up and scanned the crowd, no one waspaying attention to him. He chalked it up to the whisky and pushed it to the back of his mind.
After they’d finished their second bottle of whisky, they stood, and Gunn approached the bar; two of the three men sitting there previously remained. He settled the bill, and they left, making their way to the fighting club.
They secured one of the rings, and as they wrapped their hands and knuckles to prepare, jested each other incessantly.
The next three hours were spent taking turns with one another in the ring, whilst the others cheered them on from the side.
“Hey, watch the face,” Alexander called, dodging a right hook that Nicholas swung. “’Tis been years. Ye canna still be mad that I married your sister. She’s well cared for.” He jabbed at Nicholas, catching him in the shoulder.
Nicholas swung, caught him on the chin. Alexander grunted and hopped back. “Your sister willna be happy if I arrive home bruised.”
“Ye talk too much. Mayhap Gunn can break your jaw, like he did Theodore, and save us all from your incessant yammering.”
