Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

W hile Ripley’s boxing club was stuffed with rich fops during the morning and early afternoon hours, the late afternoons were closed to his membership and open to those who truly made their living at the sport. Today Esme stood outside of one of the raised rings, watching two young women spar. They were both much younger than she was, probably just barely eighteen, if not even younger. God, she could hardly remember those days. Hers had been so much different, raised in a world far removed from this one.

That world she didn’t belong in, even if she couldn’t stop thinking about one infuriating earl who haunted her dreams. It had been two days since she’d last seen him, since their argument where he had denied her his permission to spy on his sister’s engagement ball and his meeting with her cousin. Afterward, he’d sent her away with a promise to reach out to her when it was over. And a kiss. One searing kiss.

She jolted from her distracting thoughts and shouted out to the women in the ring, “Oy, keep those hands up. Never forget you’re in a fight.”

The two young women both adjusted their stances and continued.

“I could say the same to you.”

She turned to find Ripley coming toward her. His dark hair was mussed from his own training sessions with some of the other fighters scattered across the gym. He unwrapped his hands as he reached her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, refusing to meet her old friend’s dark eyes.

“You’re distracted. I’ve seen it for a while now. You don’t fight distracted, Esme. That’s how you end up dead.”

She shook her head. “I’m not in a fight,” she muttered.

He arched a brow. “You’re always in a fight, you know that. Better than most.”

She took in a long breath. He wasn’t wrong. Her life was a fight, she had grown accustomed to that. Finn had been a distraction to it. Her thoughts of him, those images and feelings that intruded in her dreams and her waking hours, that took the edge off of her. It had to stop.

Even if the idea stung.

“I know,” she said softly. “I know.”

He turned away and she watched him smile broadly as Jane approached. “There’s my Janie.”

Jane’s cheeks darkened in an uncommon blush. “If you keep promising to make me yours, be careful or I’ll take you up on it someday.”

Ripley chuckled as he strolled away and left the two women alone.

“Someday you’re going to have to make good on all those promises you two tease each other with,” Esme said with a false smile.

Jane looked over her shoulder at Ripley. He was standing at a different ring now, speaking to one of the fighters, but he glanced back at Jane and winked.

“Maybe someday,” Jane said. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to steal a little bit of that?” She handed over a towel. “But you realize he’s right, don’t you?”

“Oh good Lord, you two aren’t my guardians. I don’t need you parenting me.” Esme snatched the towel and began to tangle it between her hands.

“Don’t you?” Jane asked. “How do you figure that when you’re planning to be so reckless tonight?”

“Please don’t tell me you told Ripley about my plans to sneak into Finn’s home tonight and observe the ball. The last thing I need is for him to get involved, I’m sure he’d have a great deal to say about me fucking a man who is a member of his club, not to mention all the rest.”

“ I have a great deal to say about it,” Jane said with a shake of her head. “That earl of yours isn’t wrong when he tells you that exposing yourself to Society is an enormous risk.”

Esme stared at the tightly corded ropes of the ring. “He isn’t mine.”

Jane was quiet for what felt like a very long moment, then she said, “That’s what stood out to you? That I told you he was yours?”

A glare from the corner of her eye was all Esme could muster. “You are blowing all my reactions out of proportion. I know exactly what this situation is, Jane. I know what I can and cannot expect and what I must and must not do. I’m not a fool. I cannot depend on some man to determine my fate. Even this one who hasn’t proven himself to be anything but?—”

She cut herself off and Jane raised her eyebrows. “Oh, Esme.”

“Don’t,” Esme said, and hated how her voice became choked. “Please don’t. I’m going to his ball tonight, and I’m tired of arguing about it.” She pushed the bottom ring rope down and ducked under the top one to join the other women who were sparring.

Jane shook her head and as Esme stepped up to one of the other women to begin her own practice session, she heard Jane say, “It seems the worst danger might be him, not anything else.”

Esme ignored her, but in her heart she knew those words were true. She was becoming increasingly attached to Finn, and that could lead to nothing but pain, heartbreak and potentially worse if she couldn’t regain some control over herself.

F inn had always enjoyed a ball. Unlike his unlucky sister, he had been popular from the first time he stepped out as a man, always surrounded by friends and admirers. He was a proficient dancer and a practiced flirt, so ladies always flocked to him, filling his time with mindless conversation. And sometimes after the balls, he’d been able to manage encounters with willing widows or bored ladies who were desperate for pleasure outside of the bounds of their awful marriages.

None of it had ever meant anything, but tonight as he stood in his ballroom, there was a great deal of meaning to everything.

First, it was his sister’s engagement gathering. She was currently surrounded by cooing ladies, all of whom seemed to hang on her every word as she spoke about her long friendship turned love with Sebastian. If the couple had feared a scandal over the sudden engagement, it seemed they would not have it. Sebastian’s utter and obvious devotion to her had squelched any talk about wallflowers forcing marriage upon unwilling rakes.

And so, Marianne had a celebration instead of a refutation of changes against her character and worth. Finn couldn’t have been more pleased.

That would have been his only emotion had he not kept looking at the door, waiting for the arrival of his second reason for this gathering: an excuse to connect with the current Marquess of Chilton. The man was late and more than fashionably. If he didn’t come, well, Finn would have argued with Esme for nothing. There should have been more to it but there it was.

He hated that they’d quarreled. Hated that she’d hardly looked at him when he said goodbye. Hated that they hadn’t interacted since that moment. He missed her, strange as an idea as that was. Missed her touch and her company, but also her smile and the sound of her voice.

As he pondered that thought, he felt someone touch his elbow and turned to see that Marianne had approached him as he brooded. She smiled up at him, face lit with pleasure and happiness.

“Do you have a dance for your sister?” she asked. “Or have the debutantes forced their claim on you for the entire night?”

He didn’t tell her he’d been studiously avoiding anyone who looked as though they wished to dance, but smiled. “I’ll always have a dance for you.”

He took her arm and guided her to the floor where they began to twirl in time to the music. Marianne was quiet as they did so, studying his face with a worried expression.

“You don’t appear happy, Finn,” she said at last.

He made himself smile. “For you? I’m over the moon.”

Her hand gripped his a little tighter. “Thank you. But what about you ?”

“What do you mean?” he asked past a suddenly dry throat. He didn’t want to reveal too much to her about his current dilemma. It wasn’t safe for one and he wasn’t certain he could make her understand for another.

She shook her head. “Phineas, I’m not blind, you know. I can see you’ve been troubled for a while.”

“You and Sebastian might have had just a little to do with that, you know. A brother can only take so many shocks to the system, even if they lead to great happiness.” He said it in a teasing tone and was pleased that she blushed and smiled.

“I admit our imprudence in the countryside adding to your overall discomfort was something I’d thought of. But…but it’s more than that, isn’t it? Larger than us. Isn’t there anything I can do to assist you?”

The music had begun to filter away and the couples were bowing and curtseying to each other before they filed off the floor. Finn caught Marianne’s hand and lifted it to kiss her knuckles gently.

“Be happy. I promise you that there is nothing in this world that helps me more.”

She touched his cheek before she took his arm so he could lead her from the floor. As he did so, an announcement echoed from the ballroom door.

“The Marquess of Chilton.”

The partygoers paused and looked toward the newcomer, then returned to their conversations as the other man entered the fray. Finn couldn’t help but track him, his heart beginning to pound.

“I didn’t realize Lord Chilton was invited,” Marianne said with a slight wrinkle of her nose. The same one she always got when she smelled something unpleasant. “You and Sebastian aren’t in his circle, I don’t think.”

“No,” Finn said, trying to master his tone so his interest wouldn’t be marked and discussed. “I invited him. A late addition.” Her disgusted expression didn’t change and Finn laughed. “You don’t like him?”

“No.” She smiled up at him in return. “He isn’t a very pleasant man. He’s always rude and too loud. And there is something about him that makes me…nervous. Not in a good way.”

Finn glanced toward his quarry again. It was odd that he’d never sensed a feeling of discomfort around the new marquess. But then again, he wasn’t a woman. He wasn’t under threat.

“You were close to his uncle, though, weren’t you? The last marquess seemed a far superior man,” Marianne continued.

Finn nodded. “I was. The man took me under his wing after I inherited and was never anything but kind and helpful. Far more of a father than our piss-poor paternal figure.”

Marianne’s expression grew sad. “I’m happy you had someone like that in your life, Finn. Is that why you invited the nephew? As some sort of recognition of the uncle?”

He nodded, for it was a good explanation. Better than to tell her he’d been tupping the long-missing Lady Charlotte in secret. What would his sister say to that? “I think I owed it to Chilton to make some effort. This was a sought-after invitation but a large enough gathering that his presence wouldn’t be uncomfortable or odd.”

Marianne watched the gentleman again. Chilton had moved to a small group of men and was talking in a rather animated fashion that seemed to be off putting to his audience. She shivered. “You know I always liked Chilton’s cousin, your friend’s daughter. Charlotte? Though I didn’t know her very well, as she was a bit older than I was.”

Finn tensed. Esme had mentioned Marianne a few times, but he hadn’t thought to ask Marianne about her in return. This was an opportunity to do just that.

“Her disappearance is still one of Society’s greatest mysteries,” Finn said as cautiously as he could.

Marianne glanced up at him. Now she worried her hands before her. “Yes. I know there are many theories on that score.”

“Such as?”

She sighed. “Her cousin has always implied she left to pursue an imprudent affair on the continent. An attempt to ruin her reputation in absentia.”

Finn nodded slowly. “I’ve heard the same from time to time when the subject came up. Do you believe it?”

He didn’t know why he needed the answer. Needed to know what the gossip was amongst the ladies who had once called Esme acquaintance and friend. But he did.

“I don’t know. There are friends of hers who say they’ve never heard from her again after the disappearance. Not a letter, even to people she was very close to. Perhaps that’s merely indicative of her truly taking to a new life. Or…or…”

She trailed off and shifted with discomfort.

“Or?” he pressed.

She swallowed. “There are those who think she might be dead. That everything her cousin has said is a lie, meant to cover up his misdeeds. Not that he has to. His position seems to have protected him, and not her. As is the way of Society in a great many instances.”

Finn bent his head. The statement gave some credence to Esme’s belief that her cousin was dangerous. If the other ladies of the ton even hinted at it in gossip, that meant a great many of them had experienced that flutter of intuition that the new marquess was not a safe companion.

“You are pale as paper, Finn,” Marianne said, and gripped his hand in both of hers. “Are you well?”

He didn’t have a chance to answer when Sebastian crossed the room to them, his gaze focused firmly on Marianne rather than Finn.

“I am here to steal my love for a dance,” Ramsbury said, holding out a hand to her.

Marianne’s concerns seemed to have floated away as she laughed up at her fiancé. “We have danced two times already, Sebastian! We shall cause a scandal at this rate.”

He shrugged. “Oh no, what will happen? Will we be forced to marry?”

She shook her head at Finn. “He’s a cad.”

Finn forced a smile at their teasing. “You knew that before the bargain was struck, my dear. There is no escaping now, not that I think you wish to do so for one moment. Now off with you two. Scandalize away.”

Sebastian winked at him before he whisked Marianne to the dancefloor and spun her around, holding her too closely as he murmured words to her that made her blush. Finn sighed and turned his attention back to Chilton. He had removed himself from the company of the group he’d been socializing with earlier and now he stood alone, watching a small circle of women chat.

Finn smoothed his waistcoat and drew in a deep breath. He’d orchestrated this man’s arrival here with a purpose. It seemed now was the time to pursue it. He just hoped he would have something to report to Esme when it was all over.