It also made him want to strip her bare and have her be the vulnerable one.
At any rate… today he had to forget all of that. Forget about her. And focus on his plan. Step one to save himself from debt — make himself easy money.
“Do you think anyone will be here from the ton and recognize you as the Duke of Wyndham?” Archie asked, finally breaking the silence.
“No,” Val shook his head. “Those who know me from Hungerford will see me as a different man from any who might be here from London. You have everything we need?”
“Of course,” Archie said, eyeing him with a look of contempt that Val would think to question him.
“Just making sure.”
“You don’t want to return to London to do this?”
“I'm more likely to be recognized in London. They consider me as one of the Fancy there, and the other nobles have seen me box. Besides that, you know as well as I do that the greatest matches aren’t held there. You know the nobles — they love the idea, but as soon as they might get their hands dirty or a bit of true danger shows it’s ugly face, they disdain it.”
“You don’t need to tell me that,” Archie said with a shrug.
“And after my last fight in London…”
“I understand,” Archie said, and Valentine was as grateful as always to have a man with him who he didn't need to explain himself to. “What do you think of Brown? Will you be ready for him? You’ve been training with fine gentlemen, a far cry from those who fight knowing that all is on the line.”
“I’m ready for whatever — or whoever — comes at me,” Valentine said confidently. He might not believe he was the right man to become Duke of Wyndham, but here, he had no qualms.
“This will be something of a trial run,” Archie continued. “If you win this, well then, there could be bigger fights — bigger purses. But your name would become better known. Can’t say I’ve ever heard of any duke fighting beyond Jackson’s.”
“I don’t need a bigger fight,” Valentine said quietly. “Just this one. This purse — for now.”
“Ah, right, and then you’re going to marry your fancy lady and run your estates,” Archie said.
“Is that a bit of sarcasm I sense in your tone?”
Archie just smiled as they continued.
“A good bit of luck, that Stonehall is so close to Hungerford,” Archie said with a half-grin.
“I always knew we were family of the duke’s… I just didn’t know how close.”
“You know, it won’t go over well, a duke walking away with the prize money,” Archie said, shaking his head.
“It’s a nothing match,” Valentine countered. “It will hardly attract any attention.”
But just then they came atop the crest of a hill, and below them, they could see horses and carriages lining the field.
“My God,” Valentine said, his mouth hanging open. “What are all of these people doing here?”
They pushed through the crowd to the center of the field, where a man greeted them without a note of recognition, as Valentine pulled his hat low over his eyes. Archie introduced him as Val Vincent, which was the name he had fought under previously in an attempt to distance himself from his family, who were not exactly approving — and they had turned out to be right.
“Bucky Brown here?”
The man nodded.
“Best to keep the two of you separate until you’re ready. Come, I’ll find space for you to prepare yourself.”
Val nodded, and the two of them followed.
His heart was already beginning to pound rapidly, his adrenaline rushing through his veins. This was what he lived for. This was who he was. He had tried to give it up, especially when it had nearly cost him everything, but he was as addicted to this as many men were to drink.
He could hardly wait to get into the ring.
What in the… Rebecca could hardly believe what she was seeing, as she followed Valentine and his valet. People milled about, seemingly from every walk of life. There were some dressed much finer than she, others dressed in what were clearly working clothes. Music filled the air, though from where Rebecca had no idea. There must be musicians hidden somewhere in the crowd. Open carriages lined what appeared to be a common green, while country people poured in from every direction.
What was Valentine doing here?
Everyone seemed to be clustered around the one main area, and Rebecca inched ever closer, twisting herself this way and that to try to get through the crowd of people to see what was happening. The grass was wet under her boots, the ground miry from the multitudes of feet that had recently tread upon it.
As she attempted to keep herself from being pushed over, Rebecca looked around her with rapt attention, unable to tear her eyes away. In the midst of the melee was untrampled grass, near glistening in the noonday sun. A man drew a long stick through the dirt in the middle of the ropes that hung from the stakes that had been embedded into the ground.
She said a prayer that this wasn’t some kind of animal fight. She couldn’t bear to watch such a thing, and she hoped that wasn’t what Valentine was here for. Then a man stood on a box and started shouting rules to the crowd, of what they could and couldn’t do. He pointed out a bag of money hanging from the stake farthest away from Rebecca. Then he called out the names, “Bucky Brown and Val Vincent!”
Val Vincent. Rebecca’s jaw dropped open and just then a man entered from the opposite side, flanked by two men. This must be Bucky Brown.
Then, from the nearer side, entered Valentine with his valet and another man. Valentine’s beautiful body was bare from the waist up, for he was dressed only in his breeches, his back glistening in the bright sun which had burned away the earlier fog. She didn’t even have time to admire him as she was both captivated and horrified by all that was happening and what she realized was about to come.
Valentine and his opponent — Brown, Rebecca reminded herself — each stood on one side of the line, toe-to-toe as they stared one another down before quickly shaking hands.
Despite the rapid beat of her heart that seemed to be hitting the very wall of her chest, Rebecca couldn't help but note that the two of them looked like a pair of Greek statues, so chiseled, so poised as they stood just as still. Finally, they broke away, backing up ever so slightly as they each raised their bare fists in front of them.
“Fight!” the man yelled.
The two pugilists circled each other before each feinted a couple of punches, the other ducking or dashing out of the way. Then Brown’s fist hit Val’s chest, and Rebecca cringed with the impact. They continued to exchange blows on the soft, fleshy parts of themselves before Brown hit Valentine’s jaw with a resounding crack and then connected with his cheekbone. Blood began pouring down Val’s face and into his eye.
Rebecca heard a scream and didn’t realize until moments later that it was her own. Then Valentine, fortunately, lifted his hands in front of him, creating a guard that prevented Brown from coming close again.
They went back and forth, neither striking any great blows until Brown aimed a shot that almost hit Val’s neck; but instead, Val quickly blocked it and then struck a fist into Brown’s cheekbone, drawing a rush of blood. Brown staggered for a moment before collapsing to the ground, and Rebecca held her breath, but he was soon helped back up before the two of them returned to opposite corners of the ring.