James rang the bell on Alexander and Elspeth’s door. It was opened swiftly by Baxter, his sister’s butler. His sister’s butler! He thought to himself and laughed. His sister, who was coming down the hall toward him now, had a butler.
“Oh, thank you, Baxter. I shall take charge of my brother from here. Come in, James. Alexander is waiting for you,” she said and linked arms with him.
“You’re looking lovely, as usual, Elspeth. Married life must agree with you.”
“Oh, it does, James.” She smiled. “I couldn’t be happier, especially . . .”
He stopped in the wide hallway as they approached his brother-in-law’s study. “Especially?”
Her face colored, and her lips trembled into a smile. “I will be presenting Alexander with a son or daughter by late summer.”
He felt tears prick the back of his eyes. His precious Elspeth, who they’d nearly lost eighteen months ago and who’d proven herself a fierce warrior in her own right. He loved her with all of his heart. He held her face in his palms.
“Elspeth. My sweet girl. You are glowing.” He picked her up by the waist and swung her around.
“I see you told him,” he heard Alexander say.
Elspeth hurried to her husband’s side. “I’m so sorry! I just couldn’t wait!”
He kissed her cheek and held his hand out to James. “Glad you could stop by.”
“Congratulations to you too, Alexander!” James followed them into the library. “Your note sounded mysterious. What is it you wish to discuss?”
“I will send in a coffee tray so that you two can have your meeting. I’m joining Mrs. Emory in a moment to discuss some renovations I have planned for the bedrooms.”
James watched her walk out after smiling shyly at her husband as if they had just met. He turned to his brother-in-law. “I was worried for her the last few years before her marriage. She seemed directionless and discontented. Then I was terrified for her when she was kidnapped. As proud as I was of her, she could have spent years being fearful and feeling guilty, but she has not. She has embraced her new life. You have my undying respect for caring for her and making her happy.”
Alexander looked embarrassed by the praise. “I love her. I love her more than I could ever conceive of loving anyone. She is the center of my world. I would do anything to make her comfortable and happy, including,” he said with laugh, “not admonishing her for scrubbing walls with the maids or sorting sheets in the laundry room. She claims that feeling useful makes her very happy. Perhaps that will stop when we have a child.”
James tilted his head. “Do you think so?”
Alexander shook his head. “No,” he said with a laugh. “She won’t change, and that is fine with me.”
“So what about this strangely worded note you sent me?”
A maid arrived with coffee and cakes, and James gladly downed a few. He needed to keep his weight up until the next fight, and all his workouts had made him drop a few pounds. He leaned back in his chair and stared at Alexander.
“I’ve a proposal for you via my father and uncle. They thought it might be best received from me rather than two old men,” Alexander said with a chuckle. “And I agreed.”
“A proposal?”
“Yes. A proposal. I’m sure you’ve thought ahead to the time when you are no longer able or no longer want to box to make your living. I also know you have a stake in your family’s canning business and don’t really know if the income from that would be enough to start a family someday.”
James was staring at him, listening, but he was unable to get past Alexander saying that someday he would no longer be able to box. That comment had stopped him dead in his tracks. What could he possibly mean by that? Why would he ever give up boxing? He loved it, and it paid him handsomely.
“The idea is to build a modern gymnasium for boxers to train and to hold matches with permanent rings. To have large seating areas and comfortable dressing rooms and training rooms with their own rings. Maybe even have other events in the main area, such as musicals or shows.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” James said, quelling the rapid beat of his heart.
“They want you to run it, use your name in the boxing world, from New York to the Carolinas, to build a modern, profitable business. They would put the seed money in to start it but allow you, and maybe a few others, to purchase it from them over time.”
James was flummoxed. Why would he want to quit boxing? Start a family? He was only twenty-five—hardly an old man. His future was his family, boxing, and willing women. Why would he ever stop?
But it occurred to him that it seemed like yesterday he was twenty and green behind the ears. Would five years seem that same short bit of time when he was thirty or thirty-five? And where would his family be then? In ten years, Kirsty would be married with children on the way, Aunt Murdoch could be bedridden for all he knew, and MacAvoy was already making his own family, much like Elspeth. Other than Muireall, his sisters and brothers would have their own lives. Would he just be the aging uncle, not quite right in the head from the number of years he’d been in a boxing ring?
He realized he’d been silent for some time.
“Just think about it, James. Maybe in a few years, you would be interested,” Alexander said smoothly and shuffled some papers on his desk. “When’s the next match I can look forward to?”
“I . . . I’m not sure of the date. I’ll have to ask MacAvoy. He always keeps those things straight,” he said and stood. “MacAvoy said he’d be here seeing Mrs. Emory if he was done at the mill in time. I’ll check with him and let you know.”
James walked out of the room and out a servant’s door to where there was abundant air to catch his breath.
“What is it, Giselle?” Lucinda said as she finished writing a letter to a friend in Virginia.
“There is a man, a gentleman, in the foyer, and he is causing a disturbance.”
“A disturbance?”
“Yes. He is saying he will not leave, and he is raising his voice to Mr. Laurent, who has told him he must have an appointment to meet with the family.”
“Thank you, Giselle.”
Lucinda waited until the maid had gone from the room. Her father was at his club with business associates, and Aunt Louisa had come into her rooms a short while ago, a crumpled letter in one hand and a lace handkerchief in the other, saying she was going to lie down and did not want to be disturbed. She would not bother her aunt with this as, although she had been dry eyed, she’d looked quite upset and Lucinda wondered who had written the letter.
Lucinda made her way to the wide marble foyer and saw Laurent talking to a man—a tall, slender, and handsome man—while two of the family’s burlier servants stood by the butler’s side.
“I will march past you and open every door on the family wing if you do not fetch her immediately.”
“Laurent?”
“Ah,” the man said. “You must be the niece. Miss Lucinda?”
“Please refrain from shouting at our butler. It is his job to guard our family. You have me at a disadvantage, sir. Who are you, and what business do you have here?” she asked.
But he did not reply. He was looking over her head to where Aunt Louisa was coming slowly down the steps.
“Mi querida,” he said softly. He went to where Louisa stood in the foyer and bent down on one knee.
“Do you know this man, Aunt Louisa?” she asked, and her aunt nodded, her gaze at some point over all of their heads.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“Won’t you look at me, my darling?”
The man stood slowly, taking her cheeks in his palms, bringing her face in line with his. The look of longing on Aunt Louisa’s face was an intimacy that made Lucinda want to look away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. He kissed her slowly then, Aunt’s arms and shoulders dropping.
Lucinda turned to Laurent, as she had no intention of allowing the only mother she’d ever known to be embarrassed in front of her or the staff. “Please get everyone back to work and have a tea tray delivered to the yellow salon.”
“Yes, Miss Lucinda. Right away,” Laurent said, and soon the foyer was empty other than Louisa, Lucinda, and the man now kissing her aunt’s knuckles.
“Should we adjoin to a sitting room, Aunt?”
“Oh, oh yes,” Aunt Louisa said, color flooding her face. “Yes. Please.”
“Would you care for some tea, sir?” Lucinda asked.
“Yes. And perhaps something a little stronger,” he said and smiled, following her down the hall, Aunt’s hand tucked over his arm.
The tea tray arrived as they were seated, and Laurent asked the gentleman his preference and soon returned with spirits in a crystal tumbler. Lucinda and her aunt were seated side by side on the sofa, and she poured the tea since her aunt’s hands were shaking so much she would have never been able to do it without spilling some in every saucer.
“Lucinda?” Aunt said and stopped to take a breath, her eyes closing as if in disbelief. “May I present Mr. Renaldo Delgado. Mr. Delgado, my niece, Miss Lucinda Vermeal.”
Mr. Delgado bowed over her hand. “How do you do, Miss Vermeal?”
“Well, thank you, sir. Won’t you please have a seat?” He settled in the chair directly opposite them.
“I was so sorry to hear of your wife’s passing,” Aunt Louisa said finally.
Delgado sat back in his seat and stared into the tumbler in his hand. “Thank you. Ann was British, you know. Her father was a diplomat, and after you left Spain, my parents arranged a marriage between the two of us; I think because they were concerned I was too depressed. And I was depressed. I didn’t believe there would be any joy in my life again and did not object to the match.” He looked up at Louisa. “Ann was not a happy person, not before our engagement and wedding, and not after our marriage either. But I was determined to be kind and faithful to her, and I owe her my respect as the mother of my children.”
“How many children do you have, Mr. Delgado?” Lucinda asked.
“Three. Millicent, only nineteen, recently married after the year of mourning had passed. She is very young, but I believe she loves Edward and that he loves her.” He looked at Louisa. “I don’t believe it is right to separate young lovers. It can have disastrous consequences. My two youngest are at my hotel with the governess. Geoffrey is sixteen and Susannah is twelve.”
“I’m sure they are saddened by their mother’s passing,” Lucinda said.
“They are. But Ann was not terribly involved in their daily lives. She was . . . ill and spent most of her time abed with her maid for company since Susannah was born. The children were with me mostly, even going to my place of business occasionally, and that has not changed. We breakfasted together every day, well, not Millicent after her marriage, of course. The four of us dined together each evening unless there was a social event I could not refuse. I tried to plan an outing with them a few times a month, to a concert or museum. Geoffrey is away at school much of the time now. I’d kept him home with tutors long after his friends were off at preparatory school, but it was time for him to begin to prepare for university. Susannah is still at home year-round and has a tutor and a governess for her education. We are all very close and hear weekly from Millicent by letter.”
Lucinda smiled at Mr. Delgado. He was obviously very proud of his children and had great affection for them. She glanced at her aunt, who had tears welling in her eyes.
“I would have loved to have had your children, Renaldo. I dreamt of it,” Aunt Louisa whispered, her lips trembling.
Lucinda rose and went to the door. Their conversation would become too intimate, too private for her to remain. She glanced back at them as she closed the door. Mr. Delgado was on the floor before Aunt Louisa, his head in her lap, quietly weeping. Aunt Louisa stroked his hair and gazed at him.
Lucinda climbed the stairs slowly. Finally in her suite, she pulled a worn, soft shawl around her shoulders and sat down in the tufted chair by the fireplace. Was it possible that Aunt Louisa could let go of the past and find a future with this man who clearly loved her? Their relationship could not be an idolized version of each other from their youth, but must be real, with all the hurts of their past put aside. Was twenty years too long apart?
Lucinda did not want to waste her life if she knew there was a soul that matched hers, even if it made her father unhappy, though she loved him dearly. What if James Thompson was that match? The memory of their kiss was enough to make her breasts tingle and the area below her waist throb. She blushed, remembering she’d told him he was never to dance with Edith again after he’d looked at her and winked over their intimacies. She could not understand her fit of jealousy, as there was really no other word to describe how she felt at the idea of him touching any other woman. What must he think of her? Perhaps she should get to know him a little better and ask him.
“Let’s call it a day,” MacAvoy shouted from outside the makeshift ring. “That’s enough, Nicholson. I’ve got your cash here, and we’ll need you back next week.”
James lifted his head from the filthy wooden boards he was sprawled on, the wood shavings at his nose reeking of sweat and other smells he didn’t care to think about. It took him a moment to realize he was on the floor or even where he was: a training session for his next bout. MacAvoy caught him under his arms and picked him up.
“Get your feet under you, James,” he said.
He rolled his neck and shook his head, sweat flying from the ends of his hair. “Where’s Nicholson? Let’s go again.”
“You’re not going anywhere except home, boyo,” MacAvoy said and led him to the small changing room.
James plopped down on the bench in the room and let MacAvoy look at the cut on his cheek. He handed James a wet rag, wrung out.
“Here. Wipe the sweat off of yourself and then get home,” MacAvoy said again.
James ran the rag over his face and hair. He looked up at MacAvoy standing by the door, his hand on the latch. “What happened?”
“What happened?” MacAvoy repeated as he turned. “You got clobbered by a slow, fat bumbler. That’s what happened.”
“What are you mad about? I’ve caught a lucky punch before.”
“You think that was a lucky punch? It wasn’t. You were getting handled,” MacAvoy’s voice rose. “By Nicholson!”
“I’ll get straightened out. I’ve got a few weeks to go.”
“I’m not so sure of that.”
James looked up. “You don’t think I can beat Jackson? He’s just a young pup!”
“Your head’s not in it, James. You’re distracted. What’s going on?”
He looked up after several long minutes, wherein he’d hoped MacAvoy would get bored or discouraged and leave him alone. But it looked like his friend would wait him out.
“Alexander asked me to visit with him last week. I hadn’t any idea why. But he proceeded to tell me some shit that his papa and uncle had cooked up about opening a real boxing arena with stands and training rooms and changing rooms. They figured that I might be considering what I’d do when I couldn’t box anymore. That I’d put my name on this place, manage it, and maybe be able to buy it outright at some point. I could hardly believe it!”
“My God,” MacAvoy whispered.
“I know! That’s what I thought. Why would I be thinking about quitting boxing?”
MacAvoy was staring at him and shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you turned him down.”
James shrugged. “I didn’t answer, and Alexander just changed the subject.”
“What do you mean, you didn’t answer? Can you still give him an answer?”
“I guess. I didn’t want to insult Alexander or his family. They’re so good to Elspeth and to the rest of us. He changed the subject, and I went along.”
MacAvoy ran a hand down his face and dropped to his haunches, eye level with James. “You’re my best friend. You were my only friend, and your family took me in when I had nowhere to go. I love you and Payden like brothers and the girls like sisters. So I’m going to talk to you, brother to brother. Go back to Alexander and tell him you’re in. Tell him to tell his father that you’re flattered by their interest and are ready to plan for the future.”
“What are you talking about? We’re not finished! At least, I’m not!”
“James!” MacAvoy grabbed his shoulders and shook. “You’ve only got a couple more years. That’s it. You’re at the top of your game now, but there’ll be a boy in the not too distant future who will take you down in front of a crowd. There’ll be a new king. It’s just the way it is.”
James was breathing hard, trying to control the wild beating of his heart. “I’ve got longer than a couple of years,” he whispered, his voice shaking.
“Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t. But if you don’t plan now how and where you’ll support yourself, you’ll end up washed up, nobody willing to hire you except to pour ale at the Water Street Tavern. Whatever this scheme Mr. Pendergast has cooked up will take years to come full-term. By then, you may need a job.” MacAvoy looked away and turned back to James with regret. “I wasn’t planning on telling you this yet, but I told Graham to keep me in mind for more evening work in the future. Not right now, with you still fighting, but in the future.”
James watched as MacAvoy straightened to his full height, pulled on his coat and hat, and left James sitting, his towel around his neck, his muscles tightening with the chill air seeping in around an ill-fitting window, newspaper stuffed into its sides. He was going to walk the long way home.
Lucinda was still in the tufted chair before the fire when there was a knock at her door. Her aunt came in the room, looking nervous and restless.
“Come sit down, Aunt Louisa. I’d call for a tray, but it will be dinner soon. Giselle has already been here trying to coax me into changing my dress, but I told her to come back in a bit. I was hoping you would come see me.”
“Oh, Lucinda. My head is spinning,” Aunt said as she sat on the edge of the chair next to her. “Your father will be home soon.”
“What will you tell him?”
“Mr. Delgado is coming back with his children to dine this evening,” she said breathlessly, holding her hand to her bosom. “I don’t know what to think.”
Lucinda smiled. “I think you’d best get Berta to lay a cold towel on your eyes. You don’t want to meet everyone looking as if you’ve been crying for hours, do you?”
Louisa smiled and bit her lip. “I would like to look my best. What did you think of him?”
“He’s very handsome. Well-spoken and charming. But what makes him so very appealing is how much he adores his children and how very much he has been longing for you for so many, many years.”
“He does love them, doesn’t he?” she asked, her eyes glistening. “And he is every bit as handsome today as he was twenty years ago.”
Lucinda smiled. “And he loves you. I think he always has.”
Louisa took a shuddering breath. “Is it possible? Do you think he has loved me as I’ve loved him all these years?”
“What did he say about the woman who was your friend?”
“My father spoke to Renaldo and convinced him that I was not really interested in him,” Louisa said and looked up. “I think my father was hoping that I would remain unmarried and care for him and my mother as they grew older. When I think back on everything now, it was my mother who insisted I move to America to raise you. I imagine she did not want me to become a nurse maid.”
“Go now. Let Berta get you into that lovely lilac gown. You look so beautiful in it. Not that you don’t always look beautiful.”
Louisa stood and went to the door. “Don’t worry, though, dear. I will never desert you. You are the daughter of my heart, and I would never, ever put anything over your happiness,” she said without turning and quickly slipped out.