Page 38 of The Boxing Baroness

“Oh, yes,” Sin agreed. “Ah, the stories I could tell.”

The big man chuckled. “Aye, I imagine so. Well,” Jack said, rubbing his two huge paws together, “if Charlie says yer awright, I reckon that’s good enough for me. Come in on the mornings I’m ’ere—Fridays, Mondays, and Wednesdays—and I’ll show you the ropes with Annie. You know how to ride?”

Sin blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Ride. Can ye ride an ’orse?”

“Er, yes.”

“You’ll need to go on ’er runs. Rent an ’ack and give Barney the bills.”

He glanced at Marianne, who raised her eyebrows at him, as if daring him to demur.

“I can do that,” he said.

“Good. You can work out the days and such with Marianne. Nora and Lucy are the other lassies, but Nora’s brother Ted works with ’er and Lucy most of the time, so they’ll only need you in a pinch.”

“I think he should come in and train with Lucy and Nora, too, Jack. He should be familiar with all three of us,” Marianne said, smirking as she filled up his days.

“Aye, yer right, lass. So then,” Jack said, eyeing Sin, “you good comin’ around every day till you leave?”

Sin cut Marianne an exasperated look. “Of course, if that is what you need.”

“Good. You’ll need to talk to them to find out what time to come in.” He paused and frowned. “If clutch-fisted Barney makes any noises about not payin’ you yet, why, you just send ’im along to me.”

Sin nodded.

“All three are damned good pugs.” Jack cut Marianne a fond look. “Marianne’s been trainin’ a while and knows ’er business, but she’ll slack on her runnin’ if you let ’er.”

Marianne made an undignified squawking sound. “I don’t—”

Jack smirked and ignored her. “I want ’er doin’ five days a week—you’ll need to crack the whip and make sure she keeps up to snuff, aye?”

It was Sin’s turn to smile. Judging by the way Marianne flinched, it was a less than pleasant expression.

“It will be a pleasure to make sure Miss Marianne stays up to snuff.” He looked down at the woman in question, whose earlier grin had turned into a glower. “As for cracking the whip?” His smile grew until it exposed his teeth. “That is something I will do most vigorously. And enjoy it.”

Jack laughed and clapped Marianne on the shoulder with a huge paw. “It looks like you’ve found yerself a regular taskmaster, lass.”

Her eyes narrowed at Sin.

“Now,” Jack said, turning to Elliot, “let’s see what Smithy ’as to offer you, Annie.”

* * *

Marianne was gasping for air after three rounds with Elliot Wingate.

“Awright, awright, that’s good for now,” Jack called out just when she thought her lungs might explode.

She groaned and dropped her hands to her knees, gasping.

“Somebody ’asn’t been doin’ ’er runnin’,” Jack said in a sing-songy voice that made her want to punch him.

Marianne was too winded to answer.

“Yer right ’andy wiff yer fives,” Jack said to Elliot.

She looked up in time to see Elliot’s already flushed face darken. “She kept me on my toes,” he said—kindly, in Marianne’s opinion. The truth was, if Elliot hadn’t pulled his punches, she wouldn’t have lasted even a round with him. He was fast and incredibly strong, his body wiry, hard, and trim.