It was interesting, Jenny thought that night when she was laying in her bed, that the things one feared most were generally not so terrible when faced directly. Almack’s had proven to be one of those things. Instead of the censorship she had expected, she had enjoyed herself. She had acquitted herself well with each of her partners. (She had noted that no one was waltzing, which supported her supposition that Kevin had made the dance up himself.) And, for the most part, the conversations had been pleasant, at least until it became known that danger was once more darkening the Continent.

Lord Trevithan was right. Everyone needed to help. The diplomats would surely be recalled from Vienna, and Wellington might once more lead the English army into battle. She and Martha could roll bandages, make up meal kits to send the valiant troops. It seemed so little. And she was ashamed to admit that she was still more concerned for Kevin’s safety in the upcoming fight than what might happen on some distant shore. In the last few weeks, her priorities had certainly changed.

She could not forget the look in his eyes when she’d said anything was possible. Such hope, such yearning! It matched the yearning in her heart. Now she must do all she could to see that he lived to propose marriage once again, for this time, she knew the answer she would give.

 

–

 

Lying on Nigel’s old army bedroll in his near-empty apartment, Kevin was also thinking about the evening. Despite the danger drawing closer across the Channel, his thoughts kept returning to Jenny. She had been her usual amazing self tonight, every bit the lady. Others had noticed. He could see it in the eyes of each peer and peeress they had met.

Some had been delighted, others disappointed that she wasn’t more of an oddity. He had wanted to hoist her up on his shoulders and proclaim her champion of the ring. As that was singularly inappropriate (and would have earned her the scorn she had originally feared), he decided to settle on flowers the next day. He had never been overly fond of the onyx stick pin his mother had given him. Selling it would give him enough money for the flowers and dinner for the next couple of nights.

And flowers were the least he should shower upon her. He had to win her. With each advancing day, it became clearer to him that he needed her. She made him think before acting. He had never considered it before, but, in her presence, he realized he had been too precipitous. It has stood him well on occasion during his service to the War Office, but even his superior had remarked on his luck. He often reacted rather than thinking through the situation. Had he been married to Jenny when Robbie had first come to him with his gambling debts, he had little doubt things would have ended differently. Small wonder he had fallen in love with her. Now all he had to do was convince her she was in love with him.

Still in a celebratory mood, he arrived at her door in the early afternoon, but, to his surprise, he found none other than Gentleman Jackson himself on the sitting room sofa, calmly sipping lemonade with Miss Tindale at his side and Jenny across from him. Jenny at least had the good sense to look embarrassed, as Kevin handed her the flowers, that he would find her in such company. Miss Tindale offered him a rather saucy smile, as if she enjoyed being the one to shock for once.

He recovered and bowed over first Jenny’s and then Miss Tindale’s hand. Jenny shifted on the sofa as if nonplussed by his frown. It was her home, after all, and he wasn’t her husband yet. He had nothing to say about who she invited to visit.

“Mr. Jackson was explaining the circumstances of your upcoming fight with Mr. Safton,” Miss Tindale told Kevin as he was seated. “I must say, I never knew it was all so complicated.”

“She is referring to the umpires and the setting up of the ring,” Jenny explained. “We did not realize the bout had been moved out of London because of the expected crowd.”

Kevin looked to the boxer. “Neither did I. Odd that Safton didn’t think to let me know.”

Gentleman Jackson shook his head. “Are you truly surprised? Then you are the only one, sir. I do not like to speak ill of any man, but, for George Safton, I could make an exception. He was only too glad to have the bout moved from my rooms, out from under my direct supervision. I could hardly stop him. The wagering is simply too frenzied. The magistrates would have forced me to close.”

“But surely they would have little interest in an amateur bout between two gentlemen,” Kevin protested. “I can understand the wagering, sir, and if you say you think there will be a crowd, I will not gainsay you. However, this is hardly a championship fight. There isn’t even a purse.”

Jenny started and looked at Jackson askance.

Kevin felt as if he had been punched in the stomach as the realization hit. “Eugennia Welch, you didn’t!”

She blanched, and even Miss Tindale quailed.

“There is a purse, Mr. Whattling,” Jackson answered, glancing between the two of them. “And it doesn’t matter who put it up.”

“Of course it matters.” Kevin surged to his feet. “You know as well as I do that this fight could get ugly. I refuse to take money for it, hers or anyone else’s.”

Jenny slumped, as if she wanted to sink into the sofa.

“If you win, you can refuse the purse, of course,” Jackson replied calmly. “But I’d think about it if I were you. It’s an impressive pot, lad, one of the largest I’ve seen. You could clear your debts and live well for years to come.”

Kevin stared at him, mind whirling. He knew Jenny was worth a great deal, but even she would surely have had difficulty raising the kind of blunt Jackson was talking about. “Then it cannot be all Miss Welch’s money,” he protested.

Jackson nodded. “That’s correct.”

Jenny started. “What?”

Jackson smiled at her. “Several others have approached me as well, and I’m sure I’ll see a few more before Friday. I can tell you the exact amount if you like in a day or so. I just thought you should know.”

Kevin nodded, dazed. Could this odious fight with Safton really serve to clear all his debts? He hated to profit by it; it felt too much like blood money. But if he could truly settle all his debts and have something to build upon for the future, how could he in good conscience refuse? He could live a normal life again. He could hold his head up in public. He wouldn’t have to offer his services to the Crown for a pittance. And he wouldn’t have to marry for money.

He glanced at Jenny and was surprised to find tears building in her eyes. She looked away as if to hide it from him. What had he missed in his moment of introspection? He couldn’t very well ask her in front of Gentleman Jackson and Miss Tindale. As it was, he had to suppress the urge to take her onto his lap and smooth the worry from her face.

As if nothing had happened, Miss Tindale clapped her hands. “How very splendid! Now we shall have even more to look forward to hearing about after the match.”

Jenny shook herself. “After the match, Martha? Surely we will be at the match.”

She still looked ashen to Kevin, and he didn’t like upsetting her any more, but he had to depress any notions she had regarding the fight.

“Surely you will not,” he replied firmly. “We’ve had this conversation before, Miss Welch. A boxing match is no place for a lady. Even Gentleman Jackson here will agree with me on that score.”

To his surprise, the Gentleman eyed Jenny, whose jaw was set with determination. “We’ve also talked of this before, Miss Welch. You know the threat to your reputation. Why do you want to watch this fight?”

 

–

 

Jenny opened her mouth to declare that nothing would prevent her from watching a villain like George Safton be put down by the man she loved, then snapped her mouth shut. She’d seen the emotions cross Kevin’s handsome face when the boxer had explained about the size of the purse. It had been difficult not to cry aloud. Despite all Kevin’s protests to the contrary, he was obviously willing to take any route to clear his debts. Now that he had another choice besides marrying, he would have no use for her. She had fooled herself into thinking he might care for her. At times, she believed he might even have fooled himself. Now they both knew it for the lie it was. She could hardly bear to look at him.

Yet, that didn’t stop her from loving him. It shook her to realize it. Even though she felt he would never love her, her feelings hadn’t changed.

Kevin was watching her closely, and so was Jackson for that matter. She squared her shoulders. “I believe I told you, Mr. Jackson, that boxing is currently my field of study. How else am I to progress if I never actually witness the sport?”

He quirked a smile. “How else indeed. I tell my lads to watch fights as they’re learning.”

“You cannot encourage her,” Kevin protested. “Much as you love the sport, Gentleman, I have never seen you bring a lady to a match. You cannot sit by and expect me to allow Miss Welch to attend.”

Jackson grinned up at him. “I don’t see that you have all that much to do with it, my lad. It is entirely up to Miss Welch.”

Jenny put her head up and glared at Kevin, daring him to say otherwise. Kevin glared back.

“But you should know, Miss Welch,” Jackson continued, “that Whattling is correct about one thing: the crowd will be no place for a lady.”

“But surely there will be other women there,” Jenny said. “You told me there were even other women who boxed.”

“Women,” Kevin said, “but hardly ladies. You’ll be accosted by half of the riffraff of London. A real lady would have nothing to do with the boxing.”

She felt herself tremble in mortification. “And am I to assume that you no longer consider me a lady because of my study of the sport?”

“Of course not,” he snapped. He ran a hand back through his hair, spiking the gold. “How can I make you understand? You’ve heard yourself that the crowd is expected to be large. You’d be surrounded by pickpockets, drunks, and ladies of ill repute. I can hardly protect you while I’m fighting, and I don’t like the thought of you alone in such a crowd. How could I even concentrate on the fight if I thought you were in danger?”

She should have been touched, but his concern sounded more like self-preservation than anything else. Still, she supposed he did need to concentrate. She would not have wanted to do anything that might give George Safton the upper hand.

“I’m sure Mr. Whattling can be counted on to give us a good accounting of the match,” Martha offered.

“Of course,” he agreed. “I promise to come straight here after the match and tell you everything.”

She could not win the argument, not with Martha looking at her pleadingly, Gentleman Jackson frowning at her, and Kevin so earnest. She offered him the most insipid smile she could manage. “I can only say, Mr. Whattling, that I will look forward to your account.”

Martha relaxed, but Kevin’s look eased into a frown. “It may not satisfy your intellectual curiosity, my dear,” he offered in condolence, “but you will be far safer.”

Jackson nodded, rising. “That’s settled then. Miss Welch, I must be off. Thank you again for the hospitality. Miss Tindale, your servant. Mr. Whattling, I’ll look forward to seeing you at practice later.”

Jenny and Martha smiled politely, and Kevin nodded in return as Fiching showed him out, the butler taking the flowers from Kevin with him. Jenny felt Kevin’s gaze on her, but she refused to meet it. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if she started to sink into the blue again.

He sat down on the chair and leaned back, as if making himself comfortable for a long chat.

“Miss Tindale, I wonder how your notes have been coming regarding Jenny’s study of boxing.”

“Miss Welch’s study is going well,” she replied, long nose in the air. The correction of Jenny’s name could not have been lost on him. If he had risen in Martha’s regard over the last few weeks, he had obviously lost any ground he had gained. “And I am not going to leave this room to get my notes, a book on the subject, or The London Times, so you might as well not ask.”

He raised a brow in innocent surprise at her response.

Jenny shook herself. She couldn’t be alone with Kevin, not now, perhaps not ever again.

“Of course not, Martha,” she murmured. “No one would ask that of you.”

Kevin shifted on the chair. As she had asked that of her companion any number of times, he had to know he was in trouble. “Very well, then, I suppose I’ll simply have to state my case before both of you. Miss Welch, I ask you to withdraw your support of this fight.”

She blinked, then shook her head. Why did part of her persist in expecting him to make some kind of declaration now that he knew his debts would be paid without her? Of course he had nothing personal to say to her that would require Martha to leave. The time of stolen kisses and waltzes in shadow and sunlight was over. She had to make herself realize it.

He obviously took her silence as refusal. “Please, Jenny,” he said, reaching across the space to take her hands. She pulled them back out of reach, and Martha scowled at him so deeply Jenny thought she might stab him with her ever-present embroidery needle. He gave up and rose.

“Very well, have it your way. I refuse to take your money. If I should win this fight, I will learn from Gentleman Jackson how much of the purse is yours and see that you receive every penny back. I have a chance to clear my debts honorably, and I’m not going to lose it.”

And of course, the dishonorable thing would have been to marry her for her money. She couldn’t face him another second. “Very well, Mr. Whattling. Thank you for dropping by. Good luck on your fight with Mr. Safton. I somehow doubt you will need it.”

He bowed. “Thank you. And I reiterate, I will stop by after the fight and let you know how it went.” He hesitated, then softened his voice. “And I believe we have something to discuss then as well, something you requested me to ask you after the match.”

Jenny stared at him, afraid to hope. But there had been only one thing she had told him to ask her after the match. “As you wish, Mr. Whattling,” she managed.

He bowed again and allowed Fiching to show him out.

“You cannot say that man isn’t interesting,” Martha noted, finishing a knot and snipping off the threat with silver scissors.

“No, you can’t,” Jenny allowed, mind and emotions in turmoil. It appeared she might have a chance after all. As soon as her butler came back to the sitting room, she turned to him thoughtfully.

“So, Fiching, how would one go about viewing Mr. Whattling’s boxing match?”

Martha gasped. “Eugennia, no! Mr. Whattling told you it was no place for a lady. Will you not listen for once?”

“Rubbish,” Jenny said with a toss of her head. “I don’t believe all that folderol about pickpockets and cutpurses. Lord Byron boxes, for pity’s sake!”

“A great number of lords box, Miss Jenny,” Fiching put in with a thoughtful frown. “That doesn’t make them behave like gentlemen under the circumstances. We’d have to be very careful.”

“Fiching!” Martha cried. “How can you encourage her?”

“Simply because nothing either of you can say will discourage me,” Jenny informed them. “This whole fight started because of an insult to me. I have also put up considerable money for the event.” Not to mention her heart. “If you think I will miss it, you don’t have the sense I credited you with.”