Page 70 of The Grand Mistletoe Assembly
“You’re looking at me strangely.” Ruby’s heart tripped and stuttered all over again. She’d need a stout drink after this night was over.
“I’ll confess, before tonight, I didn’t think women belonged in prizefighting. Seemed all a bit …” He seemed unsure how to put it politely.
“Whorish?” Ruby suggested. Taking down the tops of dresses did rile men.
Daniel Miller shifted his blocky jaw. “Didn’t seem to have a purpose, other than to give a peep show.”
“You’ve never worn stays, then,” Ruby said.
Daniel Miller chortled. “I have not.”
“So, you don’t understand how restrictive they can be when you need more breath for an athletic competition.”
Daniel Miller rubbed his hand over the short bristles on his scalp. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Nor, likely, how the sleeves on dresses often don’t allow enough range of motion for a cross-body block or jab.”
Daniel Miller frowned. “Well—”
“So, all in all, you made judgments about how you felt watching women engage in prizefighting, not how the women felt engaging in prizefighting?” Ruby kept smiling, even though this topic made her want to tear her hair out. This was not a new argument for her. “But you might take offense to someone telling you how it feels to be in the ring if they’ve never been in there themselves.”
His expression darkened. “No one knows how it feels to be in there, unless you’ve done it.”
“I agree.”
Daniel Miller smiled, showing off a chipped tooth. “And no one can know the pleasure of a knockout, either.”
Ruby grinned. “Nothing like it.”
“Like it was ordained by God.” Daniel Miller clapped his hand on her shoulder. “And executed by the devil himself.”
“Gives more credit to the devil and less to me,” Ruby countered.
Daniel Miller threw his head back and laughed.
Corinthian John stepped back to them. “I see you’re getting along just fine.”
“Just a couple of fighters talking the Sweet Science.” Daniel Miller put his hands on his hips, as if he were marveling at her.
“We’re adjourning to my house after the last fight if you’d like to join us,” Corinthian John said. “You too, Ruby Jackson. I’ve already invited Bess and Os.”
She bobbed her head, pleased that Daniel Miller expressed his willingness to go as well.
“Splendid. I’ll see you both there. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to place some bets on this next match.”
Ruby caught his arm. “Please, sir, I don’t know what’s proper, but I’ve taken a liking to one of Lord Stone’s footmen. I don’t suppose we could invite his group along? The one called Maximillian Vaughn.”
“That’sMaximillian Vaughn?” Corinthian John laughed. “Bess has been at me for weeks about who that might be. I can’t make Stone do anything, but I will certainly invite him and his footmen.”
Ruby watched the men confer, and was delighted when Baron Stone agreed to bring his footmen along. She knew they could sneak off to the kitchens while everyone else talked in the drawing room. Footmen were not allowed to speak with guests, and if Ruby snuck off for a bit, who would notice?
CHAPTER 5
A YEAR LATER
Lady Andrepont poured Ruby another cup of tea. “Thank you again for allowing my maid to try different coiffures on you. I wish I had your hair.”
Ruby felt the unusual configuration of her hair, pinned and plaited and adorned with a gold ribbon snaking through curls. She tamped down the urge to shrug. “My pleasure. I don’t get to have my hair played with like this anymore. Violet doesn’t seem to care.”
