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“Let’s go over here.” Jenny indicated a space a few yards away that was a little more open and where they wouldn’t have to look over the shoulders of the men in front of them.

Eliza agreed and they headed in that direction, but they got there at the same time as a group of young men. Eliza placed them for university students from their disheveled hair and the fine but worn look of their coats.

“What have we here?” One of them smirked. “I didn’t know the club provided this sort of entertainment.” He reached out to touch Jenny’s cheek, but her sister pulled away.

“Keep your hands to yourself, sir,” she said, none too kindly.

The friend to his left laughed. “You’re a lively one and an American.

” Damn, they’d meant to keep from talking to anyone so they didn’t draw attention to themselves.

“How about you?” Then he reached out and placed his hand on Eliza’s shoulder, but she managed to shrug away from his advance.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to make friends? ”

“We came to watch the brawl, not make friends,” she said.

The third student had used their inattention to walk around behind the sisters.

He put a hand indecently low on each of their backs at the bend of their waists.

Squeezing, he effectively blocked them in.

“Nice ladies don’t come to brawls alone not hoping to make friends.

” His voice was so close that Eliza could feel his breath tickle her earlobe and smell the stale liquor he’d drunk earlier.

“They’re not alone,” the clipped and cultured tones of a familiar voice said.

The men glanced to the newcomer as Lord David Felding strode up to them.

He was dressed impeccably in a dark suit with a maroon brocade waistcoat.

His dark hair was swept back with pomade, and he exuded a smooth confidence that gave his expression a slightly haughty cast. He was one of Devonworth’s dearest friends, so they had encountered him at numerous events over the course of the Season.

As the brother of the Duke of Strathmore, he’d been born to privilege, and every bit of that shone in his expression.

The student who’d spoken first didn’t seem inclined to give up his find, so he chose not to believe him. “Leave off—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Lord David’s hand moved faster than a striking snake and grabbed him around the throat just under his jaw. The boy made a choking sound but didn’t otherwise move. Lord David had lifted him so that he was poised on his toes, rendering him immobile.

Without turning his gaze from the leader of the group, Lord David said, “Let go of my wife.”

The one who held them immediately dropped his hands and moved back from them.

“I don’t want to see you again tonight.” With those words of warning, he released the leader. The students fled into the crowd like discarded fish that had been tossed back into the sea.

Lord David gazed at them, his eyes roaming over Jenny in a visual inspection as if checking for some hidden injury. “That should be all we’ll hear from them tonight.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Eliza said.

Jenny made a concerted effort to keep her face toward the fight ring, but Eliza knew her sister well enough to know that it was a struggle. She practically vibrated with energy. “Your wife ?” she said, her tone textured with a mixture of pique and amusement.

He didn’t talk for a moment, but the silence spoke to a deep well of complicated feelings.

Cora and Eliza often joked about how the man, a known rake, seemed entirely too preoccupied with their Jenny.

So consumed in fact that he often didn’t seem to know what to do with himself in her presence.

Finally, he said, “I didn’t…It…” Rarely one to be tongue-tied, he huffed out a breath. “It was convenient they believe that.”

Seeming to have recovered, Jenny glanced over and blinked her eyes at him. “Or your wish that it be true.”

He looked toward the ring, but his lips turned up in a smile. “I assure you that’s not the case. I thought we’d already established that I’m not in the market for a wife.”

“Ah yes. You’re in the market for something else entirely.” Jenny’s tone had become slightly mocking.

Lord David turned his head to look at her sister and, though Eliza wasn’t in his direct line of sight, the heat of his gaze nearly singed her. “That’s right. Something I’ve been told isn’t for sale.”

“You don’t possess the right currency,” Jenny said.

His gaze sharpened, catching that tiny opening.

“What currency do you mean?” he asked as if he’d comb all the sands of the earth to find it once he knew what it was.

Eliza imagined that he’d never been in such a position before, wanting someone who didn’t want him back, though Eliza knew for a fact that wasn’t true.

Jenny wanted him, she just didn’t want to be tossed aside by him after their fling was over, so she abstained.

Before Jenny could issue a retort, Eliza cleared her throat rather obnoxiously to remind them that she was there. She couldn’t listen to any more of this. They both glanced at her in mild annoyance. Jenny returned to her senses first and took several steps forward to distance herself from him.

“How did you find us?” Eliza asked him.

“Luck,” he said. “I happened to be in the crowd behind you and saw you when you lifted your veils.”

He moved to stand behind Jenny, far enough away that he wasn’t touching her, but close enough to keep her protected should the need arise again.

His attention was not on the ring. Eliza rolled her eyes.

The ground could swallow her whole and Lord David wouldn’t notice unless it took Jenny along with her.

“Aren’t you going to tell us to leave, that we have no business being here?” Eliza asked.

The corner of his mouth tipped up and he finally spared her a glance. “Why would I do that? As far as I’m concerned, Society and their rules can go hang.”

He had propositioned Jenny, a debutante, so Eliza wasn’t entirely shocked by his attitude.

Before she could reply, the lights along the wall dimmed and an expectant hush rumbled through the crowd. The fight was about to start.