Page 79 of Courting Scandal With The Duke
The burly old porter greeted him with a cheerful grin. ‘You are in luck today, Your Grace. His nibs is in a feisty mood.’
‘Good.’
While some gentlemen preferred to get their exercise practising with a button-tipped rapier at Angelo’s next door, Xavier preferred the physicality of boxing.
There was an element of risk. A fellow could actually get hurt if he didn’t concentrate. A bloody nose or a black eye soon woke a chap up. And Xavier was known for doing a bit of damage of his own.
He always came away from a session at the gymnasium feeling calmer, more in control.
Lately he’d been feeling as if he was headed down a slippery slope and losing his grip.
The hall was crowded at this time of day, gentlemen intently watching those fighting on stages either from the ground or from the overlooking balcony. Arguments regarding form. Shouts of encouragement lingering with the smell of stale sweat and tobacco smoke. An all-male preserve.
He stripped down and sat on abench to await the next available sparring partner, watching a couple of likely lads flourish and weave and bob.
Someone sat beside him. ‘Your Grace.’ His accent was light but recognisable.
The Count of Lipsweiger and Upsal. Was he to meet the fellow everywhere?
‘Count,’ Xavier said, not taking his gaze from the battle in the ring.
‘Please, call me Charles.’
‘Xavier,’ he said, still focussed on the match.
Charles held out his hand and Xavier shook it.
The smaller man sparring looked outmatched, being light and with shorter reach, but he was fast. He ducked beneath the other fellow’s arm and hit him flush in the face.
‘Good hit,’ Xavier muttered.
‘Very good,’ Charles agreed. ‘You are an aficionado of this sport? You will box?’
‘I find it good exercise,’ Xavier answered as he always did.
But it was more. It helped him remain in command of emotions that sometime grew too big for him to contain. Emotions that might lead to doing things he would regret later.
A few solid punches to his jaw or chest, or gut, seemed to set him back on the right track.
Master of his thoughts and actions.
No reckless, thoughtless, ill-considered acts. Like becoming to enamoured of a certain Countess.
‘Do you box?’ he asked Charles.
The young man shook his head. ‘I like to watch, and wager. But no.’ He gave a charming grin. ‘My face is my fortune. I like the ladies too well to ruin it.’
Cheeky sod. Xavier grinned and clapped him on the back. ‘The ladies like a man who can stand up for himself.’
‘Ladies like my sister-in-law, included.’ Charles laughed lightly. ‘I think you don’t take my advice to be wary.’
Xavier gave him a sharp look. Had Barbara been confiding in her brother-in-law?
He had no time to enquire further as Jackson ducked under the ropes and gestured to Xavier to join him.
‘Good luck, my friend,’ Charles said.
Xavier narrowed his eyes. Were they friends? He did not feel any great warmth from the fellow. ‘It is not a matter of luck. It is a matter of skill.’
