Page 38 of Intolerable
Surprised, Ruark asked, “Who is the opponent?”
“Abe Garnham. You up for that?”
Ruark was familiar with the boxer but hadn’t ever sparred with him. A few years older than Ruark, Garnham had won several impressive bouts. He would draw a crowd once word got out closer to the date. “This will make you a lot of money.”
Fred grunted in response. “The winner gets four percent of the admission fees.”
There would be even more money coming in from wagers. But Ruark wasn’t doing it for the money. Whywashe doing it?
He liked a challenge.
Or maybe it was because his father had been a pugilist in Ireland.
“Sure, I’ll fight for you. What prompted the event?” Fred had never hosted anything like this before to Ruark’s knowledge.
Fred stared at him a moment. “Fight’s in less than a fortnight.”
“You can’t tell me the exact date?”
“Can’t let that information get out just yet or where it’s located—not in London.”
Ruark nodded, understanding. “I expect you’ll tell me as soon as you can.”
“Going to call you the Irish Menace, I think.” Fred preceded Ruark into the boxing area.
Ruark made his way to one of four rings where he sparred with Mort. “It’s amazing that you and Fred are cousins.” Fred did not possess Mort’s charm or warmth.
Mort chuckled. “Fred had to keep seven younger siblings in line. That made him curmudgeonly.”
“Such an underrated word,” Ruark murmured. “Did you know he plans to call me the Irish Menace?”
“It was my idea.” Mort grinned. “Glad you like it.”
Ruark rolled his eyes and laughed. “I’ll do my best to appear menacing.”
“Bah, you couldn’t do that if a footpad held you at knifepoint.”
“How would you know?” Ruark had never found himself in that position. “I can be downright fearsome if I’m threatened—or if someone I care about is in peril.”
“Ah, that’s what would do it. If one of your ladies was at risk. What about the current one?”
“There is no current one.” Ruark went to the center of the ring and shook his shoulders out. “Are we sparring or chatting?”
Mort moved to face off with Ruark. They took their positions, and Mort called for them to begin.
Ruark commanded the ring at first, catching Mort with a few well-timed punches to his sides and shoulders. Mort also landed a glancing blow against Ruark’s chest.
Why did he persist in asking about a woman?
Because therewasa woman.
Mort landed a second hit to Ruark’s arm. Ruark drove Mort backward with an aggressive flurry of fists.
Therewasn’ta woman. Not really. He’d put her from his mind as of last night.
Isn’t she in your mind right now?
The cut struck Ruark’s side hard, sending him reeling. He lost his footing and stumbled to the side.
