Damn Bolingbroke.
Damn every gentleman in Town who wished to ride or dance with Miss Stern. He hastened his steps as his frustration rose. He had been very careful not to show his ire when she had said she was riding with the man. He was not yet in a position to show her how he truly felt about her engagement this afternoon.
Entering his house, he headed to his study. He’d see what work had to be done and then he’d go to Jackson’s Boxing Salon. His technique would be rusty—it had been years since he’d boxed there—but it was the only way to defeat the disappointment he was feeling. It didn’t matter if he was any good; he’d still be able to hit someone. With any luck, it would be Bolingbroke. Unlike Merton, Nate had never been skilled enough to box with the great Jackson himself, outside of having taken a few lessons, that was. Nate had been much more interested in fashion than boxing. He’d gone to Jackson’s only because it was the fashionable thing to do. Now he badly needed to hit something or someone.
An hour later he walked into Jackson’s and looked around. Nothing had changed since he’d been there the last time. Jackson was teaching a young man the finer points of the sport. Nate watched, remembering the stance and the boxer’s advice to always keep one’s fists up. After a few minutes he was approached by one of the trainers. The man was about his age, but had the look of someone who’d spent time in fighting competitively. “May I help you, sir?”
“Yes. I’d like to spar a few rounds with someone. It’s been a long time since I’ve boxed.”
The man glanced at two men fighting in the center of the room. “Mr. Jackson don’t have any appointments left, but I’d be happy to give you some practice. The name’s Jim Johnson.”
“Thank you, Mr. Johnson. I’m Fotherby.” Nate motioned with his head toward the other end of the long room. “I assume the changing room is in the same place?”
“Yes, sir.” The man grinned. “Nothing here’s changed.”
Nate went into a room with wooden pegs on the wall and began to strip down to his trousers and stockings, then joined the trainer. He donned a pair of boxing gloves, and they spent a few minutes on Nate’s form, slightly bent, shoulders forward, knees bent and relaxed, and fists up.
He surprised himself by performing better than he had in the past. He’d even got a hit on Johnson. “You didn’t let me do that, did you?”
“No, sir.” The man grinned. “Doing that don’t teach a man to box. You earned that one.”
They were about to go another round when Nate heard the voice he’d been waiting to hear since he’d got to Town. “You’re much better than you used to be.” Nate turned to see Merton, already stripped down and looking like he’d be happy to do serious damage. “Why don’t you try fighting me?”
“If you wish.” Nate nodded to the trainer. “Thank you for your help.”
“Good luck. His lordship’s a damn good fighter. Watch his left,” the man muttered.
Nate nodded. “Thank you.” He moved toward the wall as Merton took Johnson’s place. “When you’re ready.”
Merton lashed out with his right fist, and Nate blocked it, but before he could hit back Merton landed a hit with his left fist on Nate’s jaw, and his head snapped back as he staggered. That’s what the trainer had meant. He could feel the anger radiating from Merton as they circled each other. Nate feinted with his left and struck with his right, hitting his old friend’s cheek. Merton stuck at him again, and this time Nate didn’t hesitate to hit back, landing a blow to Merton’s stomach. He came back with a punch to Nate’s stomach, and the fight was truly on. Sweat ran down into his eyes as he stumbled from a blow. The only good thing was that Merton wasn’t looking any better. Nate had a vague knowledge of the other men in the room placing bets.
He was breathing heavily when someone called out, “Gentlemen, that is enough.” Merton went in for another hit when he was grabbed by one of the trainers. “My lord,” Jackson’s commanding tone rang out. “I said to stop.”
Nate bent over, placing his hands on his knees and took several long breaths, wondering how bruised he’d be later. He glanced at Merton and saw he was doing the same thing.
Johnson removed Nate’s gloves and slapped him on the back. “Well done, sir.”
Merton nodded at Jackson, then approached Nate. “Are you ready for a drink or two of beer?”
It was all Nate could do to keep his jaw from dropping, but he nodded. “Yes.”
Neither of them spoke as they grabbed cloths to wipe their faces and upper bodies. They donned their clothing and strolled out of the boxing salon to a small inn with mullioned windows across the front. They both had to duck to get through the entrance. The interior had an old brick fireplace with a wooden beam for a mantel decorated with pewter plates. Merton led Nate to a small table in the far corner of the common room.
Once the mugs of beer had been set down, Merton took a long drink. “That was you I saw walking the Irish Wolfhound.”
“It was. I’ve had him for three years.” Nate picked up his mug and drank.
“You’ve changed.” His former friend leaned back in the chair.
He nodded. “I needed to.”
Merton took another drink and set down the mug on the table. “Why?”
Nate didn’t even have to ask what Merton was asking about. It could only be one thing. “Rank stupidity. A lady told me you’d been trapped by Miss Stern, but you really wished to wed her cousin. You wouldn’t talk to me about your betrothal, and I wanted to believe it was true.” Nate shrugged. “I thought you’d be happy if she left. It never occurred to me you had feelings for her.” He took a long draw from the mug. “I’m sorry I did it, but I can’t regret the consequences. If I hadn’t been sent home, I might still be prancing around without a thought for anything but my own pleasure.”
Merton grimaced. “If I hadn’t fallen in love with Thea, I’d be doing the same. I thought I could change her to fit what I wanted in a wife.” He smiled wryly. “Instead, she changed me.” He took another drink. “I could feel what was happening to me and couldn’t bring myself to talk about it.” He leaned his head back and chuckled softly. “I was preparing to have my mother instruct her how to go on as my marchioness when I discovered her grandmother was a duchess.” He shook his head. “No. I couldn’t discuss it with anyone.” Merton took a drink of beer. “I suppose you must be Mr. Meadows?”
“Yes.” Nate inclined his head. “I decided I could do more good if no one knew I was a peer.” He wiped a hand down his face. “That, and I was certain that my help would not be wanted if you or your wife knew it was me.”
“You were right.” Nate felt as if he’d been punched in the gut again. He’d hoped the fight would set things right between him and Merton. “What have you been doing for the last four years?”
Perhaps this was his chance to resolve their problem. At least with Merton, if not his wife. “After I finished having a good sulk I took up the reins of my estates and learned my duties.”
Merton gazed steadily at Nate. “My sister-in-law mentioned you were in Town to help a neighbor retrieve his daughter.”