Page 7 of Coming for the Champion
“Yes. Damned Scottish skin shows all my emotions.”
Malcolm’s plush lips stretched in a slow smile. “My blush is obvious to those who know me too.”
Damn. Yearning rushed through Rory’s veins. He wanted to know Malcolm like that, well enough to discern small changes in his expressions. He leaned closer, and Malcolm closed the gap between them, until the met in the middle of Bennington’s carriage for a brief kiss. The touch was perfection ... and oh so brief as the carriage came to a halt and the outside world filtered into their space. Someone tapped on the door, giving Rory the tiniest of moments to lean back in the seat and place Malcolm’s hands back onto his thighs, before the door opened.
“Duck and Egg Hotel.” It was time to face his fears and step into the realm of Malcolm’s ... boxing mentor? He hadn’t been clear. Or maybe he had, and Rory was too stuck in his own worries to have paid attention.
Chapter 6
Malcolm bounced on his toes as he walked towards the Hotel. It’d been far too long since he’d seen Tommy Rogerson. Since his tremors had become more obvious, he’d stayed away, not wanting his old sparring partner to see. And now as he entered the Duck and Egg, he realised that he’d been prideful and foolish. He missed his friend. They’d grown up together under the guidance of Galforth.
“Well if it isn’t Malcolm Milson.” Tommy’s wife Gloria wiped her hands on her apron and pulled him into a hug. “When we got your note, we were so pleased. It’s been too long.”
“Too long, yes.” He gulped as he stepped back, ignoring the way Rory stood a polite distance behind him.
“Tommy is out the back with the young ones.” Gloria waved in that direction and Malcolm didn’t miss the curious way she looked at Rory, but she didn’t say anything and Malcolm wasn’t ready to introduce him yet. Too many questions would come once Gloria knew who Rory was, and Malcolm wanted Tommy to quiz him first.
“Come.” She huffed out a little sigh, as if to say ‘you men and your business’, then walked away. Malcolm followed her along a hallway and through a series of doors until they stepped out in the yard behind the hotel. To the right was the stable block and to the left was a medium sized brick building, too large to be a shed and too small to be another stable block.
“Thank you.”
“Thank me afterwards when you come for a meal. I have a lovely rabbit pie for dinner tonight.” Gloria bustled away, leaving Malcolm—and Rory—standing outside the building. Malcolm glanced over his shoulder at Rory, then pushed open the door. The set up was perfect with two rings in the middle of theroom with a sandy floor, and various equipment set up around the sides for different fitness training exercises. Two young men sparred in one ring with Tommy leaning over the ropes and making technical comments to each of them. Malcolm walked closer. The room smelled like sweat and hard work and leather, and his body automatically shifted into action. He was alert, he could track each boxer’s movements and predict what they’d do next.
“Malcolm. What do you think?” Tommy didn’t look away from his fighters.
“The tall one keeps dropping his left hand, exposing his kidney, and the other one is too slow with his footwork,” Malcolm replied.
“Up on your toes, Johnny. The Colossus is watching.” At Tommy’s instructions, both boxers paused and glanced at him.
Malcolm shook his head. “You shouldn’t let your coach distract you like that.”
“Pay attention lads. That’s an unbeaten champion talking.” Tommy’s grin was broad. “Shake hands, lads, cool down. You can meet him and talk once you are cleaned up.”
The two boxers nodded, then shook hands with each other as they’d been told.
“They have good discipline.”
“Of course. Talent is nothing without hard work.” Tommy stated Galforth’s oft-repeated comment to Malcolm and Tommy and all the fighters Galforth had had in his training camps. He nodded because it was true, although with time Malcolm had come to understand that Galforth’s talent was in using other people’s hard work to improve the Dukedom. He could hardly complain since Galforth had given him so much; an education, two careers, faith in his abilities, and all the adoration that came with winning matches.
“I have a dilemma.” He may as well get to the point.
Tommy raised one eyebrow. “And you can’t come to see an old friend for no reason? We’ve missed you.” The hurt in Tommy’s voice cut Malcolm.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been selfish and proud.” He held out his hands, palms up, knowing that Tommy would see the tremors.
“Oh, Malcolm.” Tommy’s pity was the reason he’d stayed away. “I’m so sorry.”
“It happens to many of us. I’m not special.”
Tommy’s eyebrow flew up again. “Not special? What bollocks, Malcolm. Lads. Do you know who this is?”
The two young men stopped pretending that they hadn’t been listening and walked over to Tommy. “It’s The Colossus. You used to spar with him.”
“We thought you were kidding, Mister.” The taller one grinned.
“Cheeky. Go on with you and get cleaned up.”
“Yes boss.” The two lads tapped their fists to Tommy’s and then climbed out of the ring and walked to the back of the room.
