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N o sooner had he handed his clothing to Lewis, for the earl would serve as his corner man during the bout, which meant he wasn’t allowed inside the ring once the fight started, than the crowd roared as the first rays of the sunrise broke the horizon.

Duncan would be his knee man, with Lydia acting as water boy.

Though it was the high summer, being stripped down to only his breeches left him vulnerable to the bit of a chill in the dawn air.

His gaze fell on Lydia, who knelt in the corner. “I will make you proud.”

She snorted. “I am already proud of you, nodcock,” she said softly. “Clean his clock; he is not a nice man.”

Then Lewis clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Focus and remember what Papa taught us. Footwork will win the day.”

Finally, Duncan perched on a convenient large rock sitting in the corner. “Hell with that. Make it ugly. Bring the beast down any way you can.”

That prompted a grin from Alexander. “Thank you, everyone. I’ll do my best.” How much did he love his family?

Then a shrill whistle blast pierced the air. It was time.

With a little shove from Lewis, Alexander approached the center of the boxing ring.

He narrowed his eyes on the large, beefy man who was his opponent—Colin MacIntosh.

Damn, he was built like a rock and had about six inches on his own five-foot nine-inch height.

The size of his hands were like small hams. Black hair that had a tendency to curl covered his head, not done in any sort of style, and a thick mat of matching hair decorated the upper portion of his barrel chest. Pure dislike glittered in his beady eyes beneath shaggy eyebrows, and there was no doubt in Alexander’s mind this man wished to pound him into the dirt.

“Once I break you, Wexley, I’m going to reclaim Miss Tetford,” his opponent growled as he slammed a fist into the palm of his other hand.

“I’ll wager you would need to kill me first.” Under no circumstances would Alexander allow this man anywhere near Lydia.

Not again.

“Gentlemen, keep it civil until we start.” A tall, bespectacled man stood in the middle of the boxing square and held up a hand.

No doubt he would act as a caller this morning, and he might also have invested funds into the bout.

It was difficult to tell. “We’re about to begin.

” When the noise from the crowd died down somewhat, he continued, “Today’s match is between one of the darlings of the bare-knuckle world, the Honorable Mr. Alexander Stapleton, or you may know him as the Viscount of Wexley.

” A roar erupted from the men assembled as spectators.

“And his rival, the man who’s beaten countless boxers in the Lake District as well as in Scotland, Mr. Colin MacIntosh.

” Another cheer rose from the crowd. Clearly, the man had supporters.

It didn’t matter that the onlookers’ loyalties were split.

Alexander didn’t care about any of that.

He would do what he was capable of and make the people closest to him proud.

When he risked a glance back at his corner, his gaze met Lydia’s.

She stared back with rounded eyes and her lips set in a hard line, but she gave him a nod of encouragement.

It was enough, and damn but he wanted to clean Colin’s clock.

By this time, another man had entered the ring to stand next to the tall fellow. He held up a hand for silence.

“I am Mr. Applegate, your judge for the bout this morning.” The man was someone easily forgettable with absolutely no discernable features that would be remembered.

Even his brown hair beneath the top hat was mousy and plain.

“We will, of course, keep the bout going until one of these men manages to pin his opponent for ten seconds, or one of them manages to knock the other out cold.”

A roar from the crowd followed. Spectators of bare-knuckle fighting were a bloodthirsty lot.

Then Dr. Tetford joined the other two men. “Good morning. I’m the physician here, so if you do suffer any sort of injury, I’ll help you through it.” When his gaze met Alexander’s, one of his eyebrows slightly lifted. “May the best man win.”

Just as surreptitiously, Alexander nodded.

From his position in front, Colin uttered a growl and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“This fight will go quickly, Wexley.” He flashed a grin of premature victory.

“I can’t imagine an ineffective boxer like ye will last past perhaps two rounds.

” The Scottish brogue was more than a bit prominent in his voice.

Hot annoyance surged through his chest. “Bragging a little too early, are you, MacIntosh?” For lack of something to do and to hide his nerves, he fisted his hands, then relaxed them a few times in succession to crack the knuckles.

Afterward, he lifted his arms above his head and stretched out the muscles in his torso, for he had a feeling it would be better to feel loose during the first round.

“No man is invincible. Even you,” he couldn’t help but add.

The bigger man snorted. “I’ll wager my record is better than yers.”

“That means absolutely nothing.” Again, he glanced over to his corner where Lydia was quietly talking with Duncan.

In the dim illumination of a not yet full dawn, she appeared as a slight young man, but he would do anything to touch her cheek, share a brief kiss for luck and strength, merely to know she believed in him.

When she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, confidence surged through his veins.

When the other three men left the boxing ring, Alexander assumed his first position, fists at the ready, body taut and balanced.

“May the best man win, MacIntosh, in body and spirit.”

Because, after all, no matter who was declared the victor at the end of the bout, he would still be proud of himself.

He hoped.

A whistle blast split the air. The judge shouted, “Remember, rounds will continue until one man is put on the ground and unable to stand after three seconds. Go!”

The crowd roared in anticipation.

Alexander and his opponent circled each other, prowled through the meadow grass of the eight-foot roped-off area.

The doctor as well as the host walked the outside edges of the ring.

How the devil should he bring this beast down?

Knowing how difficult it was the last time he’d come to blows with Colin in Hyde Park, he might need to change his tactics and fall to what Lydia had taught him last night.

Excitement buzzed at the base of his spine, prompting him into movement.

I need that prize purse. And the one person standing in his way of that goal was his opponent.

Hoping for the element of surprise, he threw the first punch. It connected solidly with Colin’s cheek, but the bigger man didn’t seem to notice.

The other man grinned as he struck out a powerful fist that barely clipped Alexander’s shoulder. “Is that the best ye’ve got, Wexley? I expected more from a son of the great George Stapleton.”

He danced away, much to the crowd’s roar of approval. “I’ve barely started.” He swung a fist, but the bigger man easily dodged the punch.

“This round belongs to me.” MacIntosh struck with a fast uppercut to his chin that jarred his teeth together. He followed it with a jab to Alexander’s middle.

Pain exploded through his face and stomach, but he held his ground and returned the volley, tagging the bigger man in the chin and abdomen.

After that, they were into the thick of the first round as blows rained and fists pummeled, landing on solid flesh in rhythmic intervals.

The thud of fists hitting skin echoed in his ears.

One of his right hooks had MacIntosh staggering backward, but at the last second, the man didn’t fall.

Neither did Lewis when retaliation occurred.

Much to the roar of the crowd. For or against, it didn’t much matter who they wanted to win, for Alexander largely ignored them.

Minutes ticked by that seemed like hours. Blood trickled along the side of his face from a wound that had opened at his left eyebrow from one of his opponent’s blows. His breath grew labored, but he defended well enough before the round was finally called.

Grateful for the brief reprieve, Alexander trudged to his corner, as did MacIntosh.

Winded, he sat heavily on Duncan’s offered knee. “I might have underestimated MacIntosh’s stamina.” He met Lydia’s gaze as skies lightened as the sun continued to rise. “What are his weak points?”

“Being illiterate?” She shrugged while Lewis snorted with derision from outside the ring.

“Truthfully, though, he is a powerhouse, but he does favor his right ankle. I remember him saying that he’d broken it once in his youth.

” She handed him a ladle full of cool water from an oaken bucket. “Just stay alert.”

“Right.” He nodded. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Stop complaining.” Duncan gave his shoulder a little shake. “You are unconsciously letting his size faze you. Keep your strikes fast and low, then use your power for punches to the head.”

“I will.” Alexander wiped sweat from his brow with a rag. “Thank you.” After taking a deep sip of the cool water from the ladle, he handed it back to Lydia.

“You’ve faced similar men before.” Lewis kneaded the muscles in Alex’s shoulders. “If you must, try to wear him down, or if you want to play dirty, use your heel in his weak ankle.”

“I trust my skill, but if worse comes to worst, I’ll try different tactics he might not expect.” And he could thank Lydia for that.

Another whistle blast announced the start of round two, and with a groan, Alexander stood. He returned to the middle of the ring to face off with his opponent once more.

“Give up, Wexley,” MacIntosh growled. “Accept ye aren’t as good as yer brothers.”

“You don’t think I already know that?” It was always a worry, but he didn’t take the statement personally. “But I’d rather die,” he tossed back.