Geek Girls Don't Date Dukes by Gina Lamm

Author:Gina Lamm
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

The carriage rolled into the outskirts of Holborn, bearing Avery nearer to the mill. Avery rode up top with the driver, with His Grace comfortable on the inside of the conveyance. Breathing deeply, Avery looked down as the ground rolled along beneath the horses’ feet. He must clear his mind, make himself ready to face his opponent. He must win this match. There was no choice for him.

A playful breeze tossed his hair, at odds with the churning in his guts. Prachett would be at the tourney today. He’d be expecting Avery to spin the match to his specifications. Though Prachett had never paid Avery for his participation in the underhanded dealings, he had forgiven a portion of Avery’s debt.

But now that Avery owed Prachett nothing? He’d fight honestly. And, if all went well, he’d win.

The apothecary had sent a messenger around just before they’d left for Holborn. The medicine for his aunt’s ailment would cost more the next time around, as the ingredients were becoming scarce. It was more critical than ever that he win today’s purse.

They arrived by the ring much before Avery was ready. He disembarked from the carriage with thinly disguised trepidation. Prachett would be here soon. Avery’s needs didn’t matter to Prachett. He wasn’t after the purse; he was after the hundreds, if not thousands, of pounds to be gained from betting on the right man.

“Hoy, Russell,” Jenks, Avery’s bottle man, called from the corner of the roped-off square that would serve as their stage.

“Jenks.” Avery nodded a greeting as he stripped to the waist. The crowds were drawing closer to the ring, each man attempting to get the best vantage for the upcoming brawl. The shouts and raucous laughter did nothing to calm his nerves or fray them. He’d stopped thinking of them as humans. They were cattle, mindless animals that brayed and milled about while he did his duty.

He moved lightly back and forth on his feet, relishing the feel of blood pumping harder through his veins. As he moved, Jenks spoke.

“You’re to face Martin Peters, a young scrapper just come up from Brighton. He lasted near two hours in his last fight, and would have won had Lockston not tripped him so underhanded-like. He’ll be spoiling for a tough ’un, s’truth.”

Avery nodded. “Then we shall give him what he asks for.”

Jenks laughed, tossing a rag over his shoulder. “That’s it, m’lad. His Grace will be glad of that, and the rest of the Fancy too, I’ll wager. Becoming quite their darling, you are.”

Jenks walked away from him then, leaving Avery to his exercises.

The earth was damp beneath his feet. Fortunately the rains had stopped early the day prior, or his bout would have been a much colder, more inhospitable affair. As it was, his breath fogged from his mouth and nose as he stretched his limbs.

Closing his eyes, he bent forward to stretch his spine. As it always did, the image of his mother leaped unbidden to his mind. He did not try to stop the horrendous memory from playing out, as he used to.

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