Page 78 of How to Tempt an Earl

Chapter Twenty-One

“I became a bare-knuckled boxer for money,” Ian said.

“At eighteen?” The sport was brutal and he would have been fighting much older men.

“I was tall and fit. But the truth is that I had little choice. My funds were quickly depleted, and I needed a place to stay and food to eat. I met Brooks one night at a tavern. A bar brawl broke out, and I was in the thick of it. I was thrown out by the tavern owner, and Brooks followed me. He dragged me away, tended to my wounds, and fed me my first hot meal in weeks. He told me I had a solid punch and arranged for my first boxing match the following night.”

Saddened at the tale, her smile quickly faded. At eighteen, Ian was barely a man in her opinion—an earl’s son who’d been ousted from a life of privilege and forced to fight for his next meal.

“Did you win your matches?”

“Almost always,” he said, a hint of arrogance in his voice. “I saved my winnings and, over time, I had earned enough to open the club. Brooks went with me.”

“I see.”

His expression stilled and grew serious. “Do you?”

“Boxing is dangerous. Bare-knuckle boxing is far worse. I can’t imagine you would have lived a long, healthy life if you’d continued on that reckless path. The Raven Club gave you financial security.”

“It did. I was no longer the unwanted son who was dependent on my father for survival.”

“Your father was wrong, Ian. You were never a wastrel,” she said.

Ian’s mouth took on an unpleasant twist. “The old earl’s reasons were his own. I didn’t shed a tear when he died.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“He came to the club one day. He didn’t know it was my establishment. After he lost a good amount at my tables, I took great delight in enlightening him.”

She wanted to touch him, to tell him he was better than what he’d been raised to believe. “Your father should have been proud of what you had accomplished.”

Ian gave a hoarse laugh. “Proud? He hated me.”

“He sounded like a pitiful man.”

“Pitiful?” Ian said. “I never thought of him as such. He was a strict disciplinarian. A hard man who had little affection for his offspring.”

Her thoughts turned and something clicked in her mind. “One of the charities I saw in the ledgers was for an asylum. I didn’t understand your reasons for supporting such a place until now. You thought of Madeline, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “She was the daughter of an aristocrat and as such would never end up in one of those filthy institutions. Others are not as fortunate.”

“I’m beginning to understand you.”

“I don’t understand myself.”

“Our past is what shapes us. Your past made you the man you are today. You aren’t as cold or as unfeeling as you want others to believe.”

He looked at her incredulously. “I’m not sure whether I consider that a compliment or an insult. At my club, I prefer to be viewed as cunning and cutthroat.”

“Your ledgers tell another story entirely.”

“Thankfully, only you can read them,” he said gruffly.

She came close and touched his cheek. “We have more in common than I’d believed.”

His hand covered hers and held her there. “Such as?”

“Both of our fathers have failed us. Their failure was in different ways, but I fear the result is similar. We were left to fend for ourselves. You fought for money. I kept the books to pay the creditors.”