Page 26 of From the Ashes
She allowed us to usher her up the stairs, only stopping when the smack of skin against skin signaled the start of a fight. She turned in time to see Seth duck beneath the thug's fist and land his first punch. The brute reeled back, but Seth didn't leave it there. He went after him.
Lady Vickers whimpered and pressed her handkerchief to her nose again.
"Don't watch," I said, taking her arm. "We'll wait for him in the carriage."
We hurried through the storeroom and the tavern, then outside to the carriage. "That man…" she murmured once inside the coach cabin, "he's not a tailor, is he?"
"No," Gus said, taking the seat beside her. He laid the blanket across her knee and tucked it around her. "Nor a dancing instructor, neither."
We didn't have to wait long before Seth tumbled into the carriage. "Go!" he shouted to Doyle. His clothing was in disarray, his hair hung in sweaty tangles, and blood smeared his nose. He grinned. "Bloody hell, it's good to see you, Charlie."
"And you too," I said, smiling at the absurdity of our situation. "You're getting blood on your shirt."
He wiped his shirtsleeve across his nose then inspected it. "Damn. Blood's hard to get out."
"I'm sure Bella will try for you."
His mother's flinty glare told me she knew precisely what Bella would try to do with Seth.
"God, we missed you, Charlie." He still grinned, his perfect white teeth flashing in the light from the lamp hanging by the door. "How did you escape? Where are you hiding? Are we heading there now?"
"Slow down." I laughed. "I didn't escape. Lincoln retrieved me."
His smile wilted. His lips parted. "Who knocked some sense into him, then? Mother?" He laughed. I covered my mouth to hide my smile.
"Seth!" Lady Vickers' barked. "Explain yourself. Have you beenfighting? Formoney?"
"What gave it away? The blood? The fight promoter with the thick neck and no fashion sense? His outfit is a crime, but try telling him that. He thinks he's the modern day Beau Brummel."
Beside me, Gus snorted. "Did you get hit in the head? You're talkin' like somethin' came loose in there."
Lady Vickers leaned closer to Seth and inspected his cuts and bruises. Aside from his bloody nose and cut lip, one of his eyes sported a yellow bruise that must have happened previously. Perhaps hehadbeen hit in the head too many times in recent days. No one ought to be as cheerful as Seth after being battered black and blue.
"Look at your beautiful face." Lady Vickers clicked her tongue as she turned his chin this way and that. "And at such a crucial time too, when you need to be looking your best. What will the girls think now?"
He jerked out of her grip. "You'd be surprised at how excited a few bruises gets them," he growled. "If this doesn't elicit more callers, I don't know what will. I'm sure you'll be satisfied with their newfound enthusiasm once word gets out."
"Once word gets out that you've been prize fighting, we'll be fortunate to be invited anywhere ever again." She sniffed and dabbed at the corner of her eye with her handkerchief, but it was already dry. While she had certainly been worried about him when the fight broke out, she showed no signs of concern for her son's wellbeing now.
"Never fear, Mama. All will be well now Charlie's back. You'll see."
Lady Vickers scowled. I suspected I would once again have to reassure her that I had no intentions of trapping her son into marriage.
Seth grinned at me. "And just in time for her birthday too."
* * *
Lady Vickers shadowedSeth all the way to the kitchen, her handkerchief fluttering and her black skirts rippling. "Let me at least wipe the blood off."
"I'm fine!" he snapped over his shoulder. "Nothing a hearty meal can't cure. What's for supper, Cook?"
Cook looked up from the pot he was stirring on the stove and greeted Seth with a grunt. "Supper's for them that live here."
"I live here again, as of tonight." Seth clapped him on the shoulder and peered into the pot. "I'm half starved. Look at me! I'm fading away." He picked up the wooden spoon Cook had rested on the pot rim, dipped it in and slurped off the contents.
"Oi!" Cook snatched back the spoon. "Lost your manners as well as your common sense, I see."
"It's been a trying evening," Lady Vickers said from the doorway. "Bella can bring me supper in my room. Will you dine with me tonight, Son?" She didn't seem to want to venture in any further. It was as if we stood in the sea and she on the shore, not willing to get her skirts wet.
