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“Jack is.” Frank rubbed his nose. “I’m not fit to get in the ring, and we both know it.”

Well, here was plain-speaking and no mistake. Benedict eyed his brother warily. “You going to do anything about that?” he asked after a moment’s pause.

Frank cleared his throat. “I reckon I’d better.” Ben nodded. “You coming, then? We shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer.”

“I’ll just go and have a word with Lizzie. She’s still asleep.”

As though on cue, the door opened and Lizzie peered out, her hair loose and a shawl wrapped about her shoulders. She gave a start on seeing Frank and drew back hastily inside as though she was naked or something.

Benedict shook his head and approached the door, knocking on it lightly. “I’ve hot water here for you to dress,” he said. “I’ll hand it up, but I’ve just got to go back with Frank to their wagon for ten minutes.” She nodded. “Come here.” Lizzie approached the door. “Give me a kiss.”

“Benedict,” she murmured in reproach, her eyes flying over his head to see his brother was no doubt within eyesight. Yet still she leaned down to oblige. He reached up and caught the back of her neck, holding her face to his for a fraction longer than was really necessary.

“I won’t be long.” She looked flustered but accepted the bucket of hot water with thanks, gave he and Frank a wave, and retreated inside to dress. “Watch over her,” he bade the dog as he and Frank took off over the field, though in truth the animal did not need telling. It occurred to him that it was a good thing Lizzie had acquired Sebastian, or he would not be so easy in his mind leaving her unattended as he often had to.

They soon reached the Toomes family wagons. This field, too, had emptied. Benedict could see Nat Jones’s yellow tailcoat from the other side of the field. He was stood conversing with Jack as they approached, and though he looked up with an easy smile as they approached, Benedict could see the guardedness in his expression as he extended his hand to him.

“Ben.”

“Nat.”

“Frank filled you in?” Nat asked, sending a quick look in Frank’s direction.

“He has,” Benedict agreed. “I’m willing.”

He saw the flash of surprise in Nat’s face before he concealed it. “It’s an early bout, I won’t deceive you,” he warned. “To warm up the crowd.”

“Frank said.” Benedict cleared his throat. “I’m grateful you thought of me,” he said, and though his voice sounded a little gruff, it was steady at least. “In light of how we parted ways.”

Again, he thought Nat looked startled. Clearly, he had not expected him to allude to the previous bad blood between them. “Not at all,” he said politely. “You always delivered in the ring,” he said. The inference was clear that it was outside of it that Benedict’s behavior was a problem.

“Capital! That’s decided, then,” Jack said a little too heartily. His two brothers did their best to get him through the next five minutes which was mostly an exchange of conversation about boxers Benedict had not kept in contact with.

“Ben saw Dabney recently, ain’t that right, Ben?” Jack jockeyed him along.

“That’s right.”

“When was that?” Nat asked with interest.

“Late February. He was looking at investment opportunities.”

“Theatres, Ben said,” Jack chimed in. “Can you imagine old Clem owning a theatre?”

Nat laughed. “I wouldn’t put anything past him, in truth.”

It wasn’t until their farewells that Nat brought up the match again that night. “Johnston’s green,” he said briefly. “I’d appreciate it if you’d let him put in an honorable showing. I’ve known his father all my life.”

Ben nodded, though he had no intention of carrying anyone through a fight. He guessed Nat’s original intent had been for Frank to fight this Johnston, but his brother had let him down by not being match fit. Nat must have really been in a corner, Benedict reflected as he watched the fight promoter walk away, to give him a second chance.

The only hiccup in proceedings had been afterward when Frank had assumed Ben would let Lizzie travel with him instead to Putney Heath. “You and Jack can take your wagon into Surrey, and I’ll have Lizzie up beside me and set up the booth at Putney.” This had earned a flat no from Benedict.

Frank had frowned. “You can surely trust me with your wife, Ben,” he had said in an injured tone. “I can sleep outside or find another bunk for the night.”

“It’s not you, but the old woman,” Benedict had answered curtly. “I don’t trust you to hold her off. Not when – ” he broke off.

“When I couldn’t guard my own wife against her?” Frank asked tightly.

Benedict looked away. He could not deny that was what was on his mind. “I’ll not have Lizzie browbeat or used as a skivvy,” he said instead. “And I won’t have that Daphne round her either.”