Page 21 of How to Best a Marquess

“I intend to increase the number of boxing matches by adding more rings,” he said, pointing to the empty space in the back of the cavernous room. “Two matches can occur back to back, or even at the same time.”

“I see.” Her mind started to calculate all the extra money the matches would bring into the club. It was a good plan, but—

“I also intend to add croupiers.”

She frowned. “You plan to add gambling tables in the boxing room?”

“No. Just the croupiers. I want them walking around and taking bets before, during, and between fights. The way it stands now, there is only one man in the corner of the room taking wagers. The room is packed during the fights, so no one can even reach him. But if I add more croupiers and have them walking through the crowd, I believe I can triple the revenue.”

She was impressed. It wasn’t something she’d thought of. She was handling the books more and more, especially since Grace was nearing her birth, and Ellie knew precisely how lucrative the fights could be.

“And as I already mentioned, I plan to invite the champions to attend. I know Gentleman John Jackson has his own boxing salon, but I hope to have him as a guest or a referee. There won’t be an empty spectators’ seat or a place to stand.”

His plan had serious merit. He was right. Champions did have their own salons, but with an invitation from the Marquess of Deveril to the Raven Club, it just might be enough to entice them to attend. If one champion came, then the others would feel compelled to show as well.

For the first time, Ellie experienced a true nervousness that Hugh Vere might win the club. No matter how certain she was that a ladies’ gambling room could bring in money, Hugh’s endeavor could easily rival her plans.

No.Too much was at stake. Women were depending on her. Violet Lasher was as well.

“I see,” was all she managed to say. She experienced a burning need to get back to the unfinished women’s gambling room, to ensure her plan was more successful than his. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to accomplish.”

He shrugged, then picked up what looked like a short iron bar. He raised and lowered it in his hand. With his rolled-up shirtsleeves, the muscles in his forearms bulged—different muscles from the ones she’d seen when he had been pulling himself up from the mounted bar. She wanted to reach out and feel if his forearm was as hard as it looked. His masculine form was so different from hers. It was fascinating.

She was aware of the harsh, uneven rhythm of her own breathing, and she hadn’t lifted a finger. She blinked and turned to leave, then halted. Before she departed, she realized that she had one more item to address. “I apologize for striking you. It is unlike me.”

He lowered the weight but did not release it. “Why did you?” he asked.

She struggled with the words. “You said things. Unnerving things that reminded me of the past.”

His intense gaze met hers and tugged at the deepest corner of her heart. “Would it help if I told you kissing Isabelle that night in the gardens was the worst thing I’ve ever done? I did not enjoy it.”

Then why did you?

She wanted to scream the question. Instead, she folded her hands in front of her. His confession was not the reason for her apology. She didn’t want to delve into the past. She’d spent years wondering why he’d done what he had, and she refused to return to that dark place now.

She was stronger. Older.

“It no longer matters,” she said. “All that concerns me now is the Raven Club.” That much was true. They were not meant to be together. In hindsight, it was better that she’d caught Hugh with Isabelle that day. If they’d married, Hugh would have not only broken her heart, but her, when he sought out another as he most assuredly would have done.

A shadow flickered in his eyes. “Perhaps you’re right and it no longer matters. But as for the club, I still find your motivations for wanting the establishment surprising.”

“I can say the same for you. You are no longer a second son but a marquess,” she countered.

“The title is not all I want to be. I want to do something with my life other than to manage my stewards and take my seat in the House of Lords. I want more.”

She raised her chin. “So do I.”

He walked close, until they were only a few feet apart, and her heart jumped. “The young Ellie I knew loved books. She wanted to marry and have exactly four children—two boys and two girls. She wanted a large library complete with Shakespeare’s plays and Grimms’ fairy tales. She wanted a garden. She wanted to laugh every day. I’ve only heard you laugh once since.”

Damn him. Once again, he was confusing her by bringing up tender memories of the past. Memories that weren’t true, but veiled in lies and betrayal. “You ruined that girl. Crushed her heart.”

His green eyes blazed, not with fury, but with an intensity that made her chest tighten. “Then that is my greatest regret. I want to see you laugh again. Is there something I can do?”

Sorrow raged with anger, and her temper rose in response. “Yes. You can leave. I’ll surely laugh after I beat you and win the Raven.”

She turned on her heel and strode out.

…