Page 24 of Christmas in the Scot's Arms
“Exactly,” Aldridge replied.
“Is it common knowledge in thetonthat Hawkins is in need of a bride with a large dowry?”
“No,” Aldridge replied. “I only recently discovered it upon my return to England when my father brought me into the business of running our estate. Hawkins’s father has multiple notes of credit that my father has extended him, which are all past due.”
“What do ye think would induce a shy, rather mousy lady, who is a bit naive, to accept an offer from her friend’s former betrothed?”
Aldridge rubbed at his jaw for a moment. “I suppose if she had been convinced the man truly had been brokenhearted and that her former friend truly had willingly kissed another man.”
Liam nodded. “And it would be so much easier to convince her of that if the lady’s friend was made to look like she was a wanton woman…”
Aldridge’s mouth parted in obvious shock. “Do you think that Hawkins set Miss Cartwright up to be found in another man’s arms?”
“I do. But I’m not sure how to prove it, nor that proving it would make anything better for Miss Cartwright.” There was, after all, the secret of her own dire financial situation.
“I wish there were something we could do,” Aldridge said.
“Oh, but there is,” Liam replied, already turning his horse back to Hawkins.
“What are you doing?” Aldridge bid from behind.
Liam turned in the saddle. “I’m going to give Hawkins a bit of justice. When I give ye the signal, start a conversation about boxing.”
“Boxing?” Aldridge repeated, his brow furrowed.
Liam nodded, his blood now rushing through his veins in anticipation.
“What’s the signal?” Aldridge asked.
“I’ll touch my finger to my nose,” Liam hastily replied.
When Liam reached the circle of gentlemen, he announced that he had decided to stay, and then he touched his nose as he purposely met Aldridge’s gaze.
“Say,” Aldridge said, “I really need to get to Gentleman Jackson’s. I’ve missed the boxing matches we all used to have. Who is the man to beat these days?”
“Hawkins,” Aldridge’s other guests said in unison.
Liam had to fight the urge not to laugh. He could not have asked for a better lead in to his plan.
“I’m somewhat of a boxer myself,” Liam said casually, but with enough of a hint of boastfulness that he felt certain Hawkins would take the bait.
As expected, Hawkins gave a derisive laugh. “When we return to London, we can meet in the ring. I’ll show you how a gentleman boxes.”
“I see no need to wait until we return to London,” he replied, the challenge clear in his words. “We need nothing but our fists and a space within which to box, and we have both right here.”
Hawkins’s eyebrows shot upward. “We’ve no gloves.”
Liam met the man’s surprised gaze and held it. “I’ve no need of gloves, but if ye’re scared, I certainly understand.”
Wariness flashed in Hawkins’s eyes, but in a breath, Liam surmised that the man was too cocky to decline the challenge. “And what are the stakes?”
“Let us say fifty pounds?”
Liam saw the man flinch, but then Hawkins smirked. “If you wish to be relieved of fifty pounds, I am more than willing to take the funds from you,” he replied and moved to dismount his horse.
“And if ye lose?” Liam asked. “Ye do have the funds to pay the bet, don’t ye?”
“Of course,” Hawkins replied smoothly.
