Chapter Twenty-One

"I hugged her." Niles looked around the sack of grain hung from the joists of the outbuilding Digby had given him use of. Aldric stood on the other side, stopping the bag from swinging. "I realize that's a pathetic thing for a gentleman of thirty to be both new at and exhilarated by, but—"

"Niles, I've known you for sixty years now—"

"Thirteen," Niles corrected with a laugh.

Aldric waved that off. "Semantics. The Gents have all known for as long as we've known you that you aren't one to feel an inclination toward physical shows of affection without a deep and abiding emotional connection. That does not and has not ever made you anything resembling pathetic."

"The ton would disagree."

"Pummel while you talk, Niles," Aldric said. "You need to be ready for this tournament."

Niles raised his fists once more. "I never ignore an order from the General."

"Rubbish. Every one of the Gents has ignored orders from the General over the years. To your cost, I would add."

Aldric resumed his braced position on the other side of the grain bag. Niles returned to his series of punches and jabs, repeatedly changing the angle and force in an effort to make certain his muscles remembered how.

"Do you suppose Penelope let me hold her because she... feels...?" Niles couldn't bring himself to finish the question, so he focused on his punches once more.

"When you were holding her," Aldric asked, "did she pat you awkwardly on the back while pulling away? Or look at you the way one would a cut of venison that had gone off?"

Niles paused and looked at his friend. "Does that often happen when a man hugs a woman?"

"Apparently." Aldric preened a bit. "Personally, I've never had any complaints."

"I remember quite a few complaints from Céleste Fortier." Niles landed a solid blow with his left.

"Those complaints were lodged against our idiot brothers," Aldric pointed out.

"I am going to tell Henri you said he's an idiot."

Aldric shook his head. "You know perfectly well I meant Jean-Francois."

"But you said, ‘Céleste Fortier's brother is an idiot.' Henri is her brother. Therefore..."

"People looking in on the Gents from the outside insist you are a quiet, sheepish person," Aldric said dryly.

Niles laughed again. "They'd never believe I was the only one amongst all of us who campaigned to be included in the group and the one most able to beat the others to an absolute pulp."

"Far too many people have underestimated you, Niles. Let us hope your opponents at the pugilistic tournament do as well."

"I heard it whispered in Hamblestead that there is some hope that Sam Martin will be among those vying for the purse," Niles said.

The revelation had precisely the impact it ought. Aldric looked both impressed and concerned. "Blazes, Puppy. He'll murder you."

"He's a clean fighter." Niles landed two successive punches at just the angle and force he wanted. "I might very well get pulverized, but I'm highly unlikely to actually die."

Aldric stepped away from the grain bag.

"Did I mention that my likelihood of death decreases significantly if I work very hard in the time I have left before the fair?" Niles watched his friend, unsure what strategy the General could possibly have in mind that involved halting the exercises prematurely.

"I wasn't going to suggest you give up," Aldric said. "I just thought it would be a good idea for you to practice swinging at something that's moving."

"And that something would be you?" Niles grinned. "I may not be Martin's equal, but I did win a decisive victory against Will Ward."

"I was there for that fight, Niles," Aldric said. "Absolutely brilliant. You were also young and spry then, not the aged Puppy you are now."

"I'm barely older than you are."

"But still, you are older." After tossing him a pitying look, Aldric grabbed two small horsehair cushions Digby had managed to procure. Knowing a good valet needed to be skilled with a needle and thread, Digby had talked Wilson through the logistics of sewing strips along the back that hands could be slipped under, allowing the one holding the cushions to do so with palms extended.

"Jab at the one I hold up," Aldric instructed.

It was one of Niles's favorite exercises, focused as it was on improving his speed and dexterity. He was not large, and though he felt he could land a fearsome blow, he was also well aware that he hadn't the bone-crunching power of fighters such as Humphries and Johnson. But Niles was quick, and that had seen him emerge the champion in what ought to have been easy victories for his opponents. He needed to make certain that aspect of his methodology was polished to a shine.

While holding cushions for Niles to hit, Aldric took up the topic Niles thought had been abandoned. "So, during this hug you were inflicting on Penelope—"

"Surely inflicting is not the right word." Niles was nearly certain the General was joking.

"She seemed to welcome the embrace, then?"

Niles jabbed at a cushion. "She was sobbing at the time, so it is a little"—he jabbed again—"difficult to say."

"Was she sobbing because you were hugging her, or were you hugging her because she was sobbing?"

"The latter." Another jab. "But also because I really, really wanted to."

"And she didn't object?" It did Niles's pride a great deal of good that Aldric didn't seem to believe Penelope had been repulsed by the embrace.

"I think she felt better afterward." Sensing he'd just opened himself up to a bit of Gents-style teasing, he quickly added, "And during."

Kes, Lucas, and Henri came bounding into the outbuilding in the very next instant.

"The talk at the Green Badger is focused exclusively on the tournament." Lucas gave Niles a shove as he passed, then mimed punching him a few times. "Word has spread that the Cornish Duke will be fighting for the first time in years." They all gave Niles a knowing look. "And the innkeeper has confirmed that the Bath Butcher will be fighting."

Sam Martin, the Bath Butcher. The man was a legend, though not an undefeated one. However, he also hadn't gone as long without fighting competitively as Niles had.

"My best hope," Niles said, "is that if Martin does join, he and I won't meet until the final match. Second place comes with prize money. Being knocked out of the tournament early does not."

A look passed between the three new arrivals. There was more they hadn't told him.

"What is it?" Aldric had clearly seen the unspoken exchange as well.

Kes spoke for them all. "With word that both the Duke and the Butcher are vying for the purse, all the other fighters have withdrawn. It's not to be a tournament any longer but a single fight."

"And the purse has been increased," Henri said. "It is now ￡200 for the victor, ￡100 for the one he pummels."

Niles nodded. "I can endure a pummeling for ￡100. It would be enough that I could try to negotiate to buy the property I've had my eyes on."

Aldric studied him. "Why are you so certain you won't win?"

"I've seen Martin fight. He wasn't felled by blows far more forceful than I am able to deliver. And he blocks blows very efficiently. Not to mention he's bigger than I am."

"Humphries is smaller than Mendoza," Lucas said, "but he was the victor in their last bout."

That wasn't the reassuring argument Lucas seemed to think it was. "I have a chance of not being killed by Martin; Humphries would annihilate me."

"I've seen Martin fight as well," Aldric said, "and he isn't as fast as you are. I think speed is the Cornish Duke's greatest asset."

"Even if I were quick enough to evade his blocks," Niles said, "I cannot hit as hard as most of the opponents he has defeated."

"But land enough blows and you'll have the same impact," Kes said.

"I do not intend to simply not try." Niles began to get the impression that his friends feared he had abandoned hope altogether. "I've learned over a great many matches that approaching the ring knowing what my disadvantages are decreases my chances of being carried away limp and lifeless."

"Best watch yourself, General," Lucas said. "Puppy is vying for your role as master strategist."

Though Aldric could give the impression of being hardened and distant, those who knew him best were well aware that he was thoughtful and considerate and not easily offended. To Niles, he said, "Add this to your stratagem: knowing your disadvantages is helpful in avoiding an unmitigated beating, but knowing your advantages is helpful if you want to win."

Niles emptied his lungs in a woosh of breath. "I wouldn't mind winning."

Aldric gave a single, almost curt nod, then held up one of the horsehair cushions again. "Hit the one that's up."