A Substitute Wife for the Prizefighter: A Victorian Romance

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A Substitute Wife for the Prizefighter: A Victorian Romance Page 24

by Alice Coldbreath

“Betsy,” she pointed out quietly, attempting to disentangle herself. He would have none of it, however, and clasped her all the tighter to him.

  “Maybe we should talk about Betsy,” he suggested in a low voice.

  Now it was Lizzie who felt a momentary panic, but it would be pointless to try and stop her ears. Instead, she swallowed and renewed the pressure of her hands against his chest. With some reluctance, he released her, and she shuffled back on the mattress, putting some distance between them.

  He watched her retreat without comment. “What do you want to know?” he asked. His expression was open and unguarded, and Lizzie felt suddenly emboldened.

  Still, the words that tumbled out of her mouth astonished even her. “Did you kiss Betsy as you kiss me?” Her face immediately grew hot as she waited for his reply.

  “Never,” he replied. “I treated her with the utmost respect at all times.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I never stuck my tongue in her mouth.”

  Lizzie’s face was bright red now. “Oh,” she said. “I see.” Was the way he kissed her not respectable, then? Partly to cover her confusion, and partly out of genuine curiosity, she blurted. “Why did you tell me to watch my step earlier?” she asked. “When I mentioned Reverend Milson.”

  “Because I’m jealous,” he ground out. “I don’t like that you admired Milson, even if it was like a frustrated spinster.”

  Her brows flew together at that. “I was not a frustrated spinster!”

  Her denial seemed to amuse him, for a smile tugged at his lips. “Oh yes, you were,” he disagreed lightly. “Otherwise, you would not have come so prettily and so often on that night I took your virginity.”

  “I don’t know what you mean!”

  “Most virgins don’t enjoy it, Lizzie. But you did.”

  “Benedict!”

  He laughed at her indignant tone, reaching out and catching her up to him. At the first contact between them, he let out a sigh of relief. “I’m a fool,” he groaned as he took her lips beneath his own. “We’ve an early start tomorrow,” he said regretfully. Then, as though he could not help himself. “Tell me again.”

  Lizzie hesitated. “Will you turn out the lamp?”

  “I will once you say it,” he responded, his gaze snaring hers. She caught her breath at his words.

  “I would have wanted you, if I had known it would be like this, Benedict Toomes.”

  The smile he flashed her was reward enough. He kissed her again lingeringly and turned out the lamp.

  18

  The next morning, Benedict woke feeling surprisingly light in spirit. Considering he had fallen asleep half-hard and lying next to the object of his desire, this was nothing short of a miracle. He disentangled himself from Lizzie’s sleeping form and set about the morning preparations. The field was already a lot sparser with many carts and wagons having moved on already to their next venue.

  Some, though not all, would be headed to the much smaller fair at Putney Heath that was their own destination. Sebastian lifted his head and watched Benedict go about his familiar routine. It was only when the water was bubbling over the fire that the animal deigned to rise from his blankets and join him next to it. Even then, Benedict did not fancy it was to seek his company, but rather because Lizzie’s dog thought it was time he had his first bone.

  He had just obliged by fetching him one when he found himself hailed by his older brother. Frank was disheveled and unshaven as he hurried across the field toward him. Sebastian looked from one to the other of them with his great jaws clamped around the bone. For a moment, he hovered undecided but then skulked under the wagon with his prize.

  “Ben, you’ll have to come,” Frank said. “You’ll never guess who’s here and wanting to speak to you.”

  Benedict’s heart plummeted to his boots. “Not the old man?” he asked with an abrupt reversal of mood.

  “What? Lord no!” His brother clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s Nat.”

  “Nat?” Benedict was startled. Whatever he had expected his brother to come out with, it was not that. “Nat Jones?”

  “Who else?”

  “What does he want with me?”

  Frank tugged at the open neck of his shirt. “Ben, it’s an olive branch he’s offering. Nothing more, nothing less. We told him, Jack and I, that things have changed with you. You’re married and settled down now, things are steadier.”

  Benedict eyed his brother shrewdly. Frank was nervous and clearly apprehensive. “Tell me what he wants,” he said, crossing his arms.

  “I won’t lie, Ben. It’s a minor fight he’s offering you, way down the bill and not the purse you’re used to either.” Frank swallowed and drew another breath. “We all know you deserve better, but – ”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “You will?” The relief in Frank’s bloodshot eyes was palpable. “Good for you, brother,” he said warmly, clapping him on the back. “Good for you.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Not far from here, at some farmer’s barn in Surrey.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  That brought Benedict up short. He cast a wry look at his brother. Clearly, Nat was looking for a last minute fill-in. Someone billed must have fallen through. Frank assiduously avoided his eye. “You and Jack fighting?” Benedict asked after a moment, letting him off the hook. After all, what was the point in making Frank squirm?

  “Jack is.” Frank rubbed his nose. “I’m not fit to get in the ring, and we both know it.”

  Well, here was plain-speaking and no mistake. Benedict eyed his brother warily. “You going to do anything about that?” he asked after a moment’s pause.

  Frank cleared his throat. “I reckon I’d better.” Ben nodded. “You coming, then? We shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer.”

  “I’ll just go and have a word with Lizzie. She’s still asleep.”

  As though on cue, the door opened and Lizzie peered out, her hair loose and a shawl wrapped about her shoulders. She gave a start on seeing Frank and drew back hastily inside as though she was naked or something.

  Benedict shook his head and approached the door, knocking on it lightly. “I’ve hot water here for you to dress,” he said. “I’ll hand it up, but I’ve just got to go back with Frank to their wagon for ten minutes.” She nodded. “Come here.” Lizzie approached the door. “Give me a kiss.”

  “Benedict,” she murmured in reproach, her eyes flying over his head to see his brother was no doubt within eyesight. Yet still she leaned down to oblige. He reached up and caught the back of her neck, holding her face to his for a fraction longer than was really necessary.

  “I won’t be long.” She looked flustered but accepted the bucket of hot water with thanks, gave he and Frank a wave, and retreated inside to dress. “Watch over her,” he bade the dog as he and Frank took off over the field, though in truth the animal did not need telling. It occurred to him that it was a good thing Lizzie had acquired Sebastian, or he would not be so easy in his mind leaving her unattended as he often had to.

  They soon reached the Toomes family wagons. This field, too, had emptied. Benedict could see Nat Jones’s yellow tailcoat from the other side of the field. He was stood conversing with Jack as they approached, and though he looked up with an easy smile as they approached, Benedict could see the guardedness in his expression as he extended his hand to him.

  “Ben.”

  “Nat.”

  “Frank filled you in?” Nat asked, sending a quick look in Frank’s direction.

  “He has,” Benedict agreed. “I’m willing.”

  He saw the flash of surprise in Nat’s face before he concealed it. “It’s an early bout, I won’t deceive you,” he warned. “To warm up the crowd.”

  “Frank said.” Benedict cleared his throat. “I’m grateful you thought of me,” he said, and though his voice sounded a little gruff, it was steady at least. “In light of how we parted ways.”


  Again, he thought Nat looked startled. Clearly, he had not expected him to allude to the previous bad blood between them. “Not at all,” he said politely. “You always delivered in the ring,” he said. The inference was clear that it was outside of it that Benedict’s behavior was a problem.

  “Capital! That’s decided, then,” Jack said a little too heartily. His two brothers did their best to get him through the next five minutes which was mostly an exchange of conversation about boxers Benedict had not kept in contact with.

  “Ben saw Dabney recently, ain’t that right, Ben?” Jack jockeyed him along.

  “That’s right.”

  “When was that?” Nat asked with interest.

  “Late February. He was looking at investment opportunities.”

  “Theatres, Ben said,” Jack chimed in. “Can you imagine old Clem owning a theatre?”

  Nat laughed. “I wouldn’t put anything past him, in truth.”

  It wasn’t until their farewells that Nat brought up the match again that night. “Johnston’s green,” he said briefly. “I’d appreciate it if you’d let him put in an honorable showing. I’ve known his father all my life.”

  Ben nodded, though he had no intention of carrying anyone through a fight. He guessed Nat’s original intent had been for Frank to fight this Johnston, but his brother had let him down by not being match fit. Nat must have really been in a corner, Benedict reflected as he watched the fight promoter walk away, to give him a second chance.

  The only hiccup in proceedings had been afterward when Frank had assumed Ben would let Lizzie travel with him instead to Putney Heath. “You and Jack can take your wagon into Surrey, and I’ll have Lizzie up beside me and set up the booth at Putney.” This had earned a flat no from Benedict.

  Frank had frowned. “You can surely trust me with your wife, Ben,” he had said in an injured tone. “I can sleep outside or find another bunk for the night.”

  “It’s not you, but the old woman,” Benedict had answered curtly. “I don’t trust you to hold her off. Not when – ” he broke off.

  “When I couldn’t guard my own wife against her?” Frank asked tightly.

  Benedict looked away. He could not deny that was what was on his mind. “I’ll not have Lizzie browbeat or used as a skivvy,” he said instead. “And I won’t have that Daphne round her either.”

  “Hold hard,” Jack interceded stepping forward. “There’s another way around this without us all falling out. How about if I took our cart to Surrey and Ben comes in with me. Frank, you could drive Lizzie and her wagon and set up her camp at Putney separate from Ma and Daphne, same as we did here. Then Frank can bunk in with one of the Farini brothers overnight till we get back. They’re off to Putney, and I bet Tony and Pietro would oblige alright.”

  Frank glanced at Benedict while he considered this. “I’m willing, though it seems strange to leave her camped on her own without protection.”

  “She’s got that dog,” Jack pointed out. “It’d rip anyone’s throat out that crossed her.”

  “I’d have to speak to her first,” Benedict said after a moment, and he saw his brothers’ exchange speaking glances. He didn’t really give a damn if they thought him overprotective. He wouldn’t put Lizzie in another man’s wagon overnight if he could help it, or at the mercy of a vicious pair of harpies. “I’m heading back.”

  Frank nodded. “We’re finishing packing up anyway, so let us know what you decide.”

  When he got back, Lizzie was up and dressed and sat drinking tea with Sebastian’s head resting on her knee. “There’s tea in the pot,” she said cheerfully, “I’ll pour you a cup.”

  He sat on the crate next to hers. “Something’s come up,” he announced abruptly and then clammed up. Only when she had passed his drink to him did he continue. “It’s strange when you consider we were only talking about this yesterday,” he said with a frown.

  Lizzie drew her cloak closer about her. “Oh?” she said encouragingly. She hadn’t put her bonnet on yet, so she sat bare-headed, her fair hair neatly coiled and pinned. He preferred it loose, but it still looked well.

  “It’s a fight,” he added.

  Her eyes leapt to his. “Really?” He nodded. “So then, that’s a good thing?” she asked scanning his face uncertainly. Benedict nodded. “Yet, you look as though you have reservations,” she said slowly.

  “It’s tonight, in Surrey.”

  Lizzie tipped her head to one side. “That is not so far. Will it interfere with our plans for the fair at Putney Heath?”

  He had a strange reaction to the way she said ‘our plans’, like a warmth spreading through his chest. “It would mean you having to go on ahead with Frank,” he explained. “Jack and I would join you there tomorrow.”

  She nodded. “That does not sound so very disruptive,” she ventured, earning his swift frown. “Does it?”

  “I don’t like the thought of you spending the night without me.”

  “Oh.” She glanced down at the dog sat beside her. “I have Sebastian, and you said your brother Frank would accompany me.”

  Benedict nodded. “He’d drive the wagon and set up camp for you.”

  “Then what is your objection?” she asked calmly.

  What was his objection? “You’re not used to this life,” he pointed out. “You’re still adjusting.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “But it’s only one night, and this is important, isn’t it?”

  “The fight? Not really. I’m just a last-minute stand in. Nat wanted Frank, but he’s not up to it.”

  Lizzie gave him a very direct look. “But that’s not the issue, is it? It’s this waistcoated person giving you another chance.”

  Benedict’s gaze dropped from hers. She had seen right to the heart of the matter. “Even if I do make a good showing, there’s no guarantee he’d book me again,” he said gruffly.

  “There are very few guarantees in this life,” she answered promptly. “Besides, this is more an opportunity for you to vindicate yourself than anything else. After what happened last time, I mean.” Benedict said nothing. “Did you tell him you would do it?”

  “I did.”

  “It’s settled, then.”

  “I could change my mind.”

  “But I don’t think you should,” she urged. “I’m sure you’re doing the right thing. Even if it leads to nothing, this is a way for you to be easy in your own mind over what happened and – ”

  Benedict caught her arm and tugged her off her own crate and into his lap. “I know,” he agreed, closing his arms tight about her. “But I still don’t like leaving you all the same.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “And waiting for you at Putney.” He nodded and Lizzie bit her lip.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said hurriedly, but he saw the color that rushed to her cheeks.

  “Tell me.”

  She reached up and lightly rested her hands on his shoulders. “If I was not so … prim and proper, would you ever take me to watch you fight?”

  Striving to ignore the powerful affect her unprompted touch had on him, he drew in a sharp breath. “You dislike the boxing tent,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, but you said this was different.”

  He winced. “It’s a good deal rougher, if anything. This fight’s in some barn and likely unlicensed.”

  “You mean it is an illegal gathering?” Lizzie asked, drawing back.

  “It’s in the middle of nowhere,” he reminded her. “I doubt there will be any trouble with officials.” When she continued to look alarmed, he added, “They only trouble with things like permits for the official fights. It’s a bigger purse involved for the fighters when they’ve paid less overheads.”

  “I see,” she replied, though she still looked unconvinced.

  To lighten the mood, he murmured, “Besides, you’re not prim and proper where it counts, Lizzie mine.” At her uncomprehending look, he added, “In my bed.”

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nbsp; “Benedict!”

  He laughed and pulled her forward to kiss her soundly. “If I win, I’ll buy you a new ring,” he muttered as he drew back.

  “A new ring?”

  He caught her wrist and held her left hand up. “Aye, a gold one this time,” he said eyeing the brass ring with disfavor.

  “I would rather we had curtains,” Lizzie replied, glancing at the wagon.

  “Curtains?”

  She nodded. “For the little windows.”

  “If you want curtains, then we’ll get curtains.”

  “I could sew them, if – ”

  At this point, a piercing whistle interrupted them. They both turned and saw his brothers approaching. Lizzie made as though to stand, but Benedict’s clasp of her waist prevented it. He turned on the crate to face them, his grip firm about her.

  “What have you decided?” Frank asked as they drew close.

  “I’ll take you up on your offer,” Benedict answered. “You accompany Lizzie and see her settled at Putney, and I’ll go with Jack.”

  Jack visibly brightened, rubbing his hands, and Frank looked relieved.

  “That’s settled, then,” said Lizzie. “Shall I make another pot of tea?”

  19

  Lizzie’s biggest worry about the journey was how to get Sebastian up into the wagon. However, when he realized that it was Frank and not Benedict who would be sat up beside her, the dog was quick to force his way between them.

  “I think you should point out I’m your brother-in-law,” Frank joked as Sebastian gave him a dark look. “I think his sense of propriety is offended.”

  Lizzie was so relieved to get the animal up on the footboard that she laughed at this witticism, and Frank looked gratified. Hearing the sound of an approaching cart, he turned in his seat and glanced behind them.

  “It’s Ma and Daphne. They’ll follow along behind us.”

  Lizzie braced her feet against the struts as Benedict had taught her and wrapped an arm about Sebastian’s neck.

  “You ready for the off?” Frank asked, and at her nod, he flicked his rein and gave Florence encouragement. The large horse obligingly began to move forward.

 

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