Spencer followed it with a right hook while Ellington was still vulnerable. The earl collapsed to the ground. Immediately, Spencer returned to his corner and Gentleman Jack began the thirty-second count. Twice, the earl tried to rise. The first time he made it to his feet and swayed, obviously dizzy, and dropped to his knees. He tried to push up a second time and was unable to rise this time. He twisted and sat on the ground as Jackson completed the count.
“The bout is over,” Gentleman Jack announced to the crowd. “Lord Middlefield is the victor.”
Though the horde had firmly been in Lord Ellington’s corner at the beginning of the match, their allegiance had switched quickly to the predicted loser, now the winner. Cheers sounded throughout the academy.
Spencer acknowledged them with a quick nod of his head and then went to where Ellington sat. He offered a hand and the earl took it. Spencer raised his defeated opponent to his feet.
“You fought a decent match, my lord,” he said, sticking out a hand, which the earl took reluctantly and shook.
“I should have noticed you were left-handed at dinner,” he said. “I suppose I was too busy watching Lady Tessa to pick up on that.” He touched his nose gingerly. “It would have saved me a broken nose.”
“It might not be broken,” Spencer told him. “Then again, it could be,” he finished, unapologetically.
“You look a fright,” Ellington said. “I can only imagine how I appear.”
“Like something the cat dragged in. Only far worse.”
The two laughed and Ellington winced. “I must see to my nose.”
“Of course.” He retrieved his shirt.
Both men made their way through the crowd, now openly supporting Spencer. They returned to the dressing area, Gentleman Jack following them.
“Let me fix your nose, my lord.” Jackson stepped close and examined it a moment. Then placing his hands on Ellington’s face, he jerked quickly.
Spencer had to look away as the injured Ellington roared.
“That’ll do the trick,” Jackson said. “Towels and washbasins are over there.”
In silence, the two men washed away the blood and dressed in silence. Spencer held his hands out, looking at the bruised knuckles.
And decided Tessa was worth every scrape.