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“I don’t,” he agreed. He paused. “Do you want me to?”

What sort of question was that? Of course she did. She wanted to know everything about him, from his first toddle to his wedding to holding Emmy in his arms after she came into the world.

“Only if you want to,” she said, feeling very raw.

Theo smiled, only a little sadly. “I’d like that.” His smile shifted, and he waggled his eyebrows. “But only if you go with me.”

Ah, yes. The invitation. “I doubt women are welcome at boxing matches, Theo.”

“I’ll sneak you in.” He leaned back, considering her. Maggie felt a flush creep up her throat at his scrutiny, and tried, in vain, to reason herself out of it. “Do you own any trousers?”

She laughed, and he brightened. “Of course not. I suppose Lou could whip some up for me. Her measuring can be a bit off, though, so they might be tight around the hips.”

Theo’s smile vanished and his eyes dropped to her waist, slowly moving up her body until their gazes met. Maggie’s skin felt stretched, and she cleared her throat. “Sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, his voice low. He shook his head. “We’ll stay near the back. No one will bother us.”

“I really shouldn’t.” The list of things Maggie really shouldn’t do that she was seriously considering doing was getting rather long. “I’ve never been to a boxing match. And I don’t think Jake likes me very much.”

Theo untucked one hand from his crossed arms and waved it dismissively. “Jake doesn’t like anyone very much right now. And of course you don’t have to go. I’m not trying to force you into anything.”

“I’ll go.” Easy trollop, she thought. Quite the fight you put up.

“Really?” He looked delighted, and Maggie’s heart seemed to expand in her chest. “Oh, that’s wonderful! It’s not far from here, only a few minutes by a hack. I’ll arrange one. It’s at nine, so I’ll get you around eight-thirty?”

“All right,” she said, suddenly shy. “Am I going to be seen as the whore of Babylon for being there?”

Theo laughed. “I assure you, if anyone there is a living prophecy of the downfall of mankind, it will be one of the bookies.”

Six hours later, after the modiste had closed and Maggie had eaten supper with the boys (Tom’s attempt at a meat pie, which had been politely described by Bridgers as “delightfully gamey”), she stood by the doorway of the apartment, sighing as Bridgers lectured her with great gusto.

“If a man puts his hands on you,” he said, “bring your knee up to his tender bits. And if Theo so much as looks as you with anything less than the purest of intentions, you’ll have to kill him.”

“I’m not going to kill Theo.”

“You must,” Bridgers insisted. “For your honor, Magdalene.”

“I gave my honor away a while ago, Bridge,” she reminded him dryly. “And I’m an old maid, going to an illicit match with a widower. I doubt anyone will care enough to cast aspersions at me.”

“I should send Tom with you,” Bridgers continued, unhearing.

“I’m not going to a boxing match to kill men who look at Maggie,” Tom said from the living room where he had taken a mug of tea to nurse over a book. “I’m already turned in for the night.” He sounded irritated.

Maggie glanced out the window, where Theo stood beside the hired hack, patiently waiting. “I’ll be back by midnight. He just wants to support his brother.”

“He can’t support his brother without you present?” Bridgers demanded, and Maggie was suddenly less convinced that his objections were for show.

“Bridge, I’m twenty-eight years old and I’ll be out with a very respectable man who won’t let anything happen to me.” She hugged him quickly, then pecked his cheek. “Go drink tea with Tom and mope.”

“Come keep me company,” Tom agreed. Without waiting for a response, Maggie spun around and waltzed down the stairs, nearly running to the hack. Theo opened the door as she approached, and the driver nodded at her, showing no concern about two young people stealing off into the night.

“Ready?” Theo asked, and Maggie, who was beginning to feel the thrill of this ill-advised outing crawling up her spine, nodded. Theo grinned. “Nervous?”

“Should I be?” she replied, tilting her chin up. “Am I expected to fight?”

Theo laughed. “I would put money on you, certainly.”

It was a throw-away compliment, something he surely had just said to be polite, and her pleased beam was entirely uncalled for. “Thank you. How long do the matches usually last?”