First Comes Courtship (A Gentleman's Guide to Courtship Book 4) by Charlie Lane

Author:Charlie Lane [Lane, Charlie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WOLF Publishing
Published: 2024-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

They stayed all afternoon with the vicar and his wife, and when they finally left, it was not entirely in their own clothes. Cora wore a gown new to her, a bit too short and a bit too snug about the bust. Mrs. Green, when she’d returned home, had been happy to loan an old gown and had helped Cora change clothes. The gown fit, mostly, as they stepped into a darkening village just as the sun began to droop in the sky.

Liam strolled at Cora’s side with a lazy sort of lope, hands shoved in pockets. He suffered a similar, tight-fitting predicament. While he and Mr. Greene were of a height, they were not of a similar build. Mr. Green had the slender physique of a scholar, and Liam’s shoulders were broad and thick and, frankly, straining the hard-working stitches of his friend’s shirt.

“Keep your head low, Cora,” he hissed, tipping his hat low over his face. “While we’re here, we can’t be recognized.”

“I don’t see why not. You can be who you are without worrying about censure. So, you like to watch a good fight now and then. That does not make you an irresponsible bounder. You hold yourself to unreachable standards, Liam. Let’s have some fun.” She took his hand, squeezed it.

He squeezed hers back, pulling her close to his side as he slipped them both through a break in the crowd around the inn. “I should not have allowed this. You should not be here. If the magistrate gets wind of the fight, there’ll be trouble. Matches are illegal, Cora.” He hissed the last bit.

“Would you have come if I were not with you?”

“No. Because they are illegal.”

“But you would want to.”

He did not answer that.

“Keep the hat low and no one will recognize you. No one will think to look for the former vicar, current viscount at a boxing match. Remember, Liam, it’s illegal.”

He snorted, and her mood surged up to the skies. Despite his worry, the world seemed electric, charged with the excitement of the forbidden. What excellent research for her poem! She had no knowledge of battles, of men crowded together on a field, and she’d been using her experiences on the packed London streets to draw the scenes. This would prove so much more useful.

“How does the magistrate not already know? There are so many people here!” And many wearing superior silks and quality boots. London swells with… “Are those fishing poles slung over their shoulders?”

“It’s part of the game. Pretending they’re here for a bit of innocent sport. Participating in a violent sport instead.”

“Then we should have a fishing pole.”

He stopped, swung around, and she slammed into his chest, looked up into his sizzling and astonished green eyes. “You’re… enthusiastic about this.”

“I am.”

“You, who remain calm and aloof every other time, are vibrating with eagerness.”

She shrugged. “It’s exciting. I’ve never seen boxing before. To know we are not supposed to be here…” She exhaled a whoosh of breath. “I suppose I like the thrill.

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