Page 54 of Defending the Duke (The St. Clairs 4)

As they walked their horses back to the townhouse, she said, “I’ve invited my family to tea tomorrow. Will you be able to join us?”

“If I am available,” he replied.

“I do want you to get to know my family. They are very important to me.”

He didn’t respond.

“I hope to do something, as all of my female relatives seem to do.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Rachel designs gardens. In fact, the garden party today will showcase her work. Catherine writes children’s books and donates the proceeds to various charities. Caroline owns a bookstore and tearoom. Even Leah has helped organize the bookstore’s circulating library and a book club for women.”

He looked thoughtful. “You want to do something similar?”

“I told you I am interested in helping others. With my new position, not only can I help the less fortunate, but I might inspire other women in Polite Society to do the same. I plan to speak to Catherine about it since she has experience regarding charity work.”

By now, they had reached home. He brought his horse to a stop.

“I’ve business to attend to. I will see you later. What time is this garden party?”

“Four.”

Anthony nodded and then turned his horse. Laurel wondered what business he had. He’d been so mysterious about it when they’d arrived in London yesterday. Curiosity ate at her, so much that she decided to follow him.

At first she hung back, not wanting him to notice her, but he never glanced over his shoulder. She closed the distance as traffic on the streets picked up. She didn’t want to lose him. Finally, he stopped on Bond Street and dismounted, tossing his reins to a boy and striding into a building. She saw no markings other than the number thirteen and hadn’t a clue what lay inside. Pulling her horse around, she watched from across the street as other well-dressed gentlemen entered at intervals. After three quarters of an hour, Anthony still hadn’t emerged.

Laurel decided to go in.

She crossed the busy street and slid from her saddle, handing her reins to the boy who had taken Anthony’s horse.

“I won’t be long,” she said breezily. “Keep my mount close.”

His mouth gaped as she marched toward the door and entered. Once inside, the strong smell of liniment and sweat assaulted her. Looking around, she saw men stripped to the waist. Some fought one another in pairs, while others struck long, oblong bags hanging from the ceiling. She spotted Anthony immediately. He stood in front of one of these bags, a man holding it as her husband punched it repeatedly. He wore something over his hands as he struck the bag. Sweat glistened on his torso. With each hit, the muscles in his back danced.

The man released the bag and came around, demonstrating something. Anthony nodded and ferociously assaulted the bag again. The force he used made her cringe. She’d seen his knuckles bruised and had been too afraid to ask what had happened to them. Now, she knew.

The man who’d tutored Anthony began striding around the large room. He had an air of confidence about him. She didn’t know if he owned this establishment or was one of its instructors.

Suddenly, he spotted her and strode toward her. Firmly taking her elbow, he led her outside.

“No women allowed, my lady,” he said briskly though he didn’t seem angry.

Raising her chin a notch, Laurel said, “I am the Duchess of Linfield.”

He studied her a moment. “Hmm. So, you are, Your Grace. Your husband is quite the boxer. If he weren’t a member of theton, he would make me more money than Croesus ever had.”

“He would be a boxer?”

“That he would, Your Grace.”

“And your name, Sir?”

He grinned. “I’m Gentleman Jack, Your Grace. John Jackson, actually, but the gents who come for my lessons like that I dress well and speak even better. Hence, my nickname.”

“You teach gentlemen to box?”

“I do. Your husband has taken lessons at my boxing club ever since he returned from the war.” Mr. Jackson shook his head. “He’s got anger in him, that one. The war did that to some men. I’d heard he gotten married, though. Maybe you can help tame the savage beast.”

Laurel thought a moment. “What I would like, Mr. Jackson, is to learn more about boxing since it is important to my husband.” She paused. “Would you consider giving me private boxing lessons?”

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