Page 40 of Until I’m Safe in Your Arms

“Perhaps that’s why they don’t allow women to attend,” Emma whispered, although no one likely could have heard her. “They don’t have to act like gentlemen. They can be as rude and unappealing as they wish without ladies to make them at least attempt to be civilized. This bunch here is a good example. They’re so rowdy no one wants to sit beside them.”

As she spoke, several gentlemen standing behind the avid wagerers moved away from the annoying shouting to the other side of the room.

“Quick, Lucinda.” Emma grabbed her hand again and tugged her toward the free space just relinquished.

“You want to stand next to those reprobates?” Lucinda dug her heels in. “Stop pulling. We’re fine right here.”

“We can see better from over there. Trust me. They may be loud, but at least they won’t pay us any mind.” That seemed to mollify her friend, and Lucinda followed her over to stand behind the gathering of noisy gentlemen.

Now Emma could concentrate on what was going on in the ring. It looked as if some of the boxing had been fierce. Alex was standing, but his shoulders were hunched, and his left eye looked swollen. Uncle Jack looked like he’d scarcely been touched and Emma had a sudden qualm, seeing herself in a rented flat in Aldershot for the rest of her life. But no, she had to have faith in her husband. They’d made the sacrifice of two eternal weeks without a bit of physical comfort between them. So yes, Alex was going to beat the stuffing out of his uncle. That was all there was to it.

“Speed it up, Alex,” one of the gentlemen in front of them called out. “You know I’ve got a packet riding on you.”

“No more than I do, Tom,” another one called out.

“If you knock him out this round, Alex, I’ll be set for life.”

“Don’t listen to Francis, Alex. He’s wagering Jack will get you in this round.”

Emma hoped Alex couldn’t hear their rude comments. Serve that Francis right if he did lose. Wait. Francis? And Tom. Heart in her throat, Emma peered closer at the gentlemen in front of her. Oh, dear God. She tugged on Lucinda’s hand. “It’s the Quartermains.”

“Who are the Quartermains?” She looked confused.

“The men in front of us.”

“But who are they?”

“Alex’s cousins.”

Lucinda reared back and stared at Emma as if she wanted to shake her. “I told you not to come over here.” A glance around the room and she came back to Emma, lips pursed. “There’s nowhere else to go. If they see you, they’re bound to recognize you. We’ll be ruined.”

“I don’t think we’ll be ruined. We’re married women, there’s nothing we haven’t seen really. But I don’t think they’ll see us, Lucinda. They’re more interested in their wagering and the fight to consider turning around and looking at us.”

After gazing at the Quartermains, who were busying themselves with their betting calls, plainly not paying attention to anything else, Lucinda nodded. “I suspect you’re right. They won’t know we’re even here unless we call attention to ourselves.” She glanced up at the ring and gripped Emma’s arm. “Look, they’re starting again.”

“Time!” A gentleman Emma didn’t know yelled out, then quickly left the ring.

Alex darted forward, landing a solid blow to Uncle Jack’s jaw. The older man staggered backward but didn’t go down. Instead, he raced back toward Alex and brought his arm upward with power Emma could see plainly from where she stood. The blow caught Alex under the chin, lifted him off his feet and against the ropes.

Without thought, Emma shrieked, the sound high and thin. Unmistakably female. She clamped her hands over her mouth, but the sound couldn’t be recalled.

Every head in the Quartermain clan turned to look at her in the quiet that ensued.

Hoping her words about not being ruined would still be true, she burrowed her face into Lucinda’s ample bosom and prayed.

*

The unmistakable sound of his wife’s shriek brought Alex to his senses like a bucket of cold water poured over his head. Damn, but the woman wouldn’t listen to him at all. Anger toward her and his opponent bubbled up from deep within Alex. He needed to end this now so he could deal with his wife. Preferably over his knee with her bare backside showing.

That image sent a surge of unbridled desire through his body, more powerful than the anger that ran alongside it. Langham’s training came to the forefront of his mind, and instinctively, he hit Jack with a two-point combination: a straight punch to the gut followed by a powerhouse right hook to the head. His uncle shrugged off the gut-punch, but the hook caught him in exactly the right place on the jaw. Uncle Jack went down as though he’d been poleaxed.

Alex continued to bounce on the balls of his feet, waiting for his uncle to rise. He didn’t. His second scurried forward to try and bring him around.

Langham came over and began the count.

Then a scream shook the room. A large gentleman hurried down toward the ring, followed closely by a young boy. Except it wasn’t a young boy at all. It was Emma.

“Time.” Langham turned to Alex. “I declare Captain Bancroft the winner of this match.”