Never Marry a Scandalous Duke by Renee Ann Miller

Author:Renee Ann Miller [Miller, Renee Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zebra Books
Published: 2022-02-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

The East End was full of questionable activities. Opium dens, illegal gambling hells, along with houses of ill repute where flagellation was practiced. And then there were the underground boxing clubs where one could engage in a bare-knuckled brawl if one were so inclined.

His carriage pulled up to an alley between two brick buildings, and Ian stepped out of the vehicle. At the end of the dark alley was a green door with chipped paint. He knocked three times, waited a few seconds, and knocked again. As he did so, he wondered if the code and the question one asked to gain admittance had changed over the years.

A small wooden door set inside the massive door opened, revealing a man with a crooked nose. “What’s your business?”

“I wish to know if you have the time of day.”

The man held his gaze for a long minute, revealing that the question one asked had most likely changed. The fellow’s dark eyes drifted over Ian, then he closed the small door. Ian was about to knock again when he heard the click of the bolt being slid back and the door opened. He stepped inside and moved down a long corridor to another door. He opened it and immediately heard the boisterous crowd inside. The place smelled the same as it had years ago—a mixture of sweat and ale. His gaze shot to the ring where two men were throwing punches. One man was dragging his feet as if ready to collapse.

He hadn’t visited this establishment in years, but it looked the same. The people gathered here were a mixture of those privileged and those not, but mostly those who were a bit rougher around the edges.

The fellow wobbling in the ring took a facer to his jaw, then folded to his knees before he hit the mat facedown.

The crowd cheered and the count started. When the felled bloke didn’t rise, two men stepped into the ring to drag him out.

A man stepped up to the winner and lifted the big brute’s fist in the air, declaring him the champion. “Anyone brave enough to challenge McCullum here?” the off iciator asked.

Ian shrugged out of his coat and moved toward the ring.

* * *

After a late dinner, which Sara had eaten alone, she paced back and forth in her bedroom while staring at the door that connected her bedchamber to Ian’s.

Had he really gone to Julien’s, or had seeing Lady Randall and Lady Cleary made him regret the bargain he and Sara had made? Once again, she questioned if he had pledged fidelity, or if she had only made herself believe that. She replayed the conversation in her head. He’d said if they lived like husband and wife in every sense of the word, he would not take a mistress. That didn’t exclude single assignations, did it?

She needed to know. She changed into her nightgown and settled in bed with a book on the various species of African butterflies. She would wait half the night if need be.

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