Page 39 of Until I’m Safe in Your Arms

Lucinda sat up and laughed. “I’m an American, my dear. We were born to be shocking to the English.”

Chapter Fourteen

The day of the fight dawned bitterly cold. It hadn’t warmed much by the time Alex arrived at Langham’s at ten o’clock. The match was scheduled for eleven, and already carriages had begun to spill their occupants onto the sidewalk outside the Cambrian Stores. His relations were among the first people he recognized when he entered the upstairs arena. One entire section near the ropes was taken up by members of the Quartermain family. Trust that they would not be late for a wager.

“Well met, Alex.” Grandfather was the first to greet him. “Can’t tell you how exciting this match is going to be. I’ve got six different wagers going on at once.” He grinned over at Tom. “And may have more before the fight is over.”

“Good morning, Grandfather. I’m happy if I can brighten your day with a bet or two. Excuse me, please.” Alex stalked over to Julius, book in hand. “You have all my wagers accounted for?”

“Morning, Alex.” His cousin had a sour look on his face. “Do you doubt my ability to keep the wagers straight?”

“Not at all. But I’m staking a small fortune on this match. I just want to know everything has been taken care of.” If he managed to win even half the wagers he’d placed on himself, he and Emma wouldn’t need to worry about finances for a very long time to come.

“I assure you, everything you asked for has been entered.” Julius’s face lightened. “Go knock ’em out, old chap.”

“Will do, Jules.” Alex nodded and headed for the dressing area, a roped off section in the far corner. He pulled back the curtain that gave the boxers a modicum of privacy to find his uncle already there, stripped to the waist, a slight smile on his face.

“Glorious morning, isn’t it, nephew?” With his sleek physique and straight stance, Uncle Jack looked a much younger, more vigorous man than one would expect of his nearly fifty years. Make no mistake, this was going to be the fight of Alex’s life in that ring.

“That it is, uncle.” Quickly, Alex stripped out of his jacket and shirt, the chill of the air bringing goosebumps out all over his arms and chest. Concentrate on all the different combinations he’d practiced over the past two weeks. Langham himself had helped train Alex. His best advice had been to push all his emotion down into his stomach and let that power explode up through his arms.

His uncle peeped out from behind the curtain. “This ought to be a good show, Alex. They’re packing them in like herrings in a basket.”

That did little to calm Alex’s nerves, but he refused to be intimidated either by the crowd or his uncle. “Then let the match begin.”

Alex pushed his way past Uncle Jack, and the gentlemen in the audience roared their approval as he strode forward, winding his way through them to reach the ring. He climbed up through the ropes and headed to the corner behind which his family sat, wagers still being called out vigorously. His grandfather was standing, shouting at Tom, who laughed then turned to Jules and said, “Make it another hundred on that one.”

Things would get even more hectic once the match began, but it always did when his family wagered.

Turning back to the ring, Alex bounced on his toes, trying to keep warm as Langham had taught him. Uncle Jack climbed up into the ring, and Langham himself came forward to act as referee. Two gentlemen who had sparred with both Jack and Alex during training had been designated their seconds and bottle-holders and they now took their positions on the floor directly behind the combatants.

Langham strode to the center of the ring and motioned both Jack and Alex to come toward him. “As always, may the best man win,” he said, then stepped back.

Suddenly, Jack’s face was in Alex’s. Next thing he knew, pain exploded alongside his head and he tumbled backward onto the mat. So much for concentrating. Shaking it off, Alex crawled up on his knees, then to his feet, and surged forward, landing a blow on his uncle’s chest.

Jack staggered back and Alex pressed forward, jabbing one, two, three times toward the face. His uncle managed to block the blows, so Alex changed tactics and led from the left, now aiming for the stomach. The first blow landed and he heard his uncle’s “oof” distinctly.

Then Alex was looking up at Uncle Jack from the mat, his uncle reaching down to help him up with the assistance of his own second. There was a dull ringing in his ears as his second pulled him into his corner and knelt, giving Alex a seat on his knee as well as advice. “You’re all right, Captain. Shake it off, just like Langham showed you. This is only the first round. You’ve got more to go. You’ll land a good one on him, I know you will.”

Slowly, the ringing in his ears subsided until he could clearly hear Sandy call to Julius for another wager. Well, if that was the case, Alex was likely all right.

Langham called, “Time!”

Alex stood, readying himself for another onslaught.

Movement to his right showed gentlemen still streaming into the already packed room. The latecomers, a large man with his boy looking almost frightened scurried to find places right behind the Quartermains. His family had been so loud and rowdy several gentlemen had moved to another part of the room. Nothing unusual there.

Steeling himself once more, Alex came forward to the middle of the ring. He had to find a way to get through his uncle’s defenses or he’d be a good deal poorer by the time he left the ring. And exiled to Aldershot, teaching boxing for the rest of his time in the army. With that grim thought in mind, Alex stared into his uncle’s eyes, heard Langham shout, “Time!” and came in swinging.

*

The steamy smell of too many sweaty bodies assailed Emma the moment she and Lucinda entered the second-floor boxing chamber of the Cambrian Stores. She wrinkled her nose but continued onward into the room, determined to see her husband win this match.

At first, she’d been afraid they’d be found out and turned away. Their disguises—Lucinda as a portly gentleman and Emma as his young son—could only hide so much of their femininity, especially their faces. Lucinda had tried to don a false mustache, but it itched so much she scratched it off in the carriage on the way to the match. Nevertheless, the man at the door scarcely took a good look at them before waving them in, just two more gentlemen in the long line waiting to get in to witness the match.

Holding Lucinda’s hand, Emma pushed her way through the crowd until she found a place to stand to get her bearings. Never had she suspected that so many gentlemen would wish to watch Alex and his uncle box. Did every gentleman in London enjoy boxing? Or were they drawn by the wagering that could be heard in every corner of the room—most loudly and virulently from the corner on her left. Those gentlemen seemed about to come to blows themselves regarding their non-stop call for bets, first on Alex, then on Jack.

“One would think gentlemen would be more polite about it.” Lucinda nodded to that same corner Emma had been staring at. “They seem overly enthusiastic about their wagering, so much so I don’t think they’re attending to the fight at all.” She made a disgusted sound. “Not like gentlemen at all.”