She arched an eyebrow. “You’re shameless.”
A flash of humor crossed his face. “I like to think I’m hopeful.”
She walked away from the window, suddenly serious. “Why, Ian?”
“Why am I hopeful?”
“No. Why did you open the Raven Club? You are the son of an earl. How did you come to own the place?”
He sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
He raked a hand through his hair. She wanted to soothe him but held herself still. She needed to know the truth. She wanted to understand the enigma of the man he’d become.
He walked to the sideboard, poured two brandies, and handed her one. “I was eighteen when my father arranged my betrothal to a country neighbor. The lady’s father, the Marquess of Landsdale, was as cunning and as ruthless as my father when it came to marrying off his daughters.”
“You were young. Why not arrange your older brother’s betrothal first?”
Ian sipped his brandy. “I asked myself the same question back then. The answer is simple. My father despised me and wanted me gone. Matthew was the golden child. He never argued with my father and always did his duty. I was the second son, the wastrel. It became a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
It seemed unfair to Grace. The former earl did not sound like a good man or father. “What of the lady you were to marry? Did you know her?”
“Yes. I was childhood friends with Madeline.”
“Was she unattractive then?” Grace knew that the second sons of the aristocracy had few options. They could enter the clergy, purchase an army commission, or become scholars. She couldn’t see Ian in any of those positions, and she wondered why he hadn’t married the lady.
“She was pretty. Blonde, hazel eyes, and trim.”
“I don’t understand. If her father was a marquess, I assume she had a large dowry. Both fathers wanted the match. You were friends and she was lovely. Why oppose?”
“I grew up. She never did.”
Grace frowned in confusion. “What does that mean?”
“By the time Maddy was seventeen, her mind was still like that of a ten-year-old girl. She matured physically, but not mentally.”
Grace had never heard of such a condition, but she knew illnesses of the mind existed. “I’m sorry.”
Ian swirled the remaining brandy in his glass. “I had always felt protective of Maddy. I remember staying at the marquess’s home for a house party. One of the guests, a soldier, lured Maddy into the stables. I found him accosting her. My temper flared and I pummeled the man. I’ll never forget the look of fear on Maddy’s face. She was a friend, but I could never marry her.”
“Did your father know of her condition?” she asked.
“He didn’t care. He told me to beget my heir and then do as I wished. We had a terrible row, but he wouldn’t budge from his demands. He never cared for me, you see, and in his eyes the marriage was the only benefit he could obtain from his useless spare.”
Good God. Ian had been treated horribly. She couldn’t imagine a father forcing such an inappropriate match upon his son. “What of your mother? Did she side with you?”
His laughter did not reach his eyes. “My mother supported her husband. She never tried to convince the earl otherwise.”
She felt his intense disappointment. She couldn’t imagine Lady Castleton not protecting her younger son, but then what choice did the lady have? Her husband was a powerful earl. Divorce required an Act of Parliament, and she would lose all rights to her children.
“You left?”
“I did.”
“You opened the Raven Club.”
“Yes.”
His answers were short and curt. Something was missing. He had been only eighteen, and without a source of income, he would have lived on an allowance his father provided. If Ian was tossed out by the old earl, or he had left of his own accord, how had he survived? How had he obtained the funds to open a lavish gambling establishment such as the Raven Club?
“What did you do when you left home?”
“You already know the answer.” He waved his hand toward the window. “I opened the club with Brooks.”
She shook her head. “Opening a business takes capital. Unless you stole your father’s silver when you left the earl’s home, where did you obtain it?”
Ian’s mouth curved into a smile. “I should have known better than to fool you. Once again, I’m intrigued by your business acumen.”
She stepped close and touched his chest. Even through the layers of broadcloth, she felt his heart beating strong. “Tell me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I became a bare-knuckled boxer for money,” Ian said.
“At eighteen?” The sport was brutal and he would have been fighting much older men.
“I was tall and fit. But the truth is that I had little choice. My funds were quickly depleted, and I needed a place to stay and food to eat. I met Brooks one night at a tavern. A bar brawl broke out, and I was in the thick of it. I was thrown out by the tavern owner, and Brooks followed me. He dragged me away, tended to my wounds, and fed me my first hot meal in weeks. He told me I had a solid punch and arranged for my first boxing match the following night.”
Saddened at the tale, her smile quickly faded. At eighteen, Ian was barely a man in her opinion—an earl’s son who’d been ousted from a life of privilege and forced to fight for his next meal.
“Did you win your matches?”
“Almost always,” he said, a hint of arrogance in his voice. “I saved my winnings and, over time, I had earned enough to open the club. Brooks went with me.”
“I see.”
His expression stilled and grew serious. “Do you?”
“Boxing is dangerous. Bare-knuckle boxing is far worse. I can’t imagine you would have lived a long, healthy life if you’d continued on that reckless path. The Raven Club gave you financial security.”
“It did. I was no longer the unwanted son who was dependent on my father for survival.”
“Your father was wrong, Ian. You were never a wastrel,” she said.
Ian’s mouth took on an unpleasant twist. “The old earl’s reasons were his own. I didn’t shed a tear when he died.”
“Did you ever see him again?”
“He came to the club one day. He didn’t know it was my establishment. After he lost a good amount at my tables, I took great delight in enlightening him.”
She wanted to touch him, to tell him he was better than what he’d been raised to believe. “Your father should have been proud of what you had accomplished.”
Ian gave a hoarse laugh. “Proud? He hated me.”
“He sounded like a pitiful man.”
“Pitiful?” Ian said. “I never thought of him as such. He was a strict disciplinarian. A hard man who had little affection for his offspring.”
Her thoughts turned and something clicked in her mind. “One of the charities I saw in the ledgers was for an asylum. I didn’t understand your reasons for supporting such a place until now. You thought of Madeline, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “She was the daughter of an aristocrat and as such would never end up in one of those filthy institutions. Others are not as fortunate.”