Page 32 of On the Ropes of Scandal (With Love in Their Corner #3)

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

The multitude of lanterns cast eerie shadows over the ground and gave the bout an otherworldly feel.

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

What was the best way to bring down a mountain? Then he grinned to himself.

One bloody rock at a time.

Even though patience wasn’t his strong suit, he pulled all that he had around himself. With his father’s voice in his head, he threw the first punch. It connected solidly with Burlington’s cheek, but the bigger man didn’t seem to notice. Clearly, he considered Duncan like an annoying mosquito.

The other man grinned as he struck out a powerful fist that clipped Alexander’s shoulder, almost spun him around. “Come, little man. I expected more from a Stapleton.”

“So do many people, but we can’t be all things to everyone.” Damn, wasn’t that a truth he should have learned earlier in life? He danced away, much to the crowd’s roar of approval then Duncan swung a fist, but the bigger man easily dodged the punch.

“This bout will be mine.” Burlington struck with a fast uppercut to his chin that jarred Duncan’s teeth together. He followed it with a jab to Duncan’s middle. “I’ll be known as the man who put the youngest Stapleton into an early grave.”

“Shit.” 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.

And because he was a bastard, he slammed a knee into Burlington’s groin.

When the other man bent over with a cry of pain, Duncan once more delivered a punch to his opponent’s chin.

Which Burlington didn’t like. Then they were into the thick of the first round as blows rained and fists pummeled, landing on solid flesh in rhythmic intervals.

Shadows danced and the lantern light had the capability of blinding him, but Duncan refused to give ground.

The thud of fists hitting skin echoed in his ears.

The roar of the crowd built up his confidence.

One of his right hooks had Burlington staggering backward, but the giant didn’t fall.

He seemed rather frightening in the golden illumination.

But then, neither did Duncan hit the ground when Burlington few back at him.

Minutes ticked by that seemed like hours.

Blood trickled along the side of his face from a wound that had opened at his right eyebrow from one of his opponent’s blows.

His breath grew labored, but he defended himself.

A quick jab to his lower lip had the metallic taste of blood flooding his mouth, but he kept his feet before the round was finally called.

Grateful for the brief reprieve, Duncan trudged to his corner, as did Burlington.

Winded, he sat on Alexander’s offered knee then spat blood from his mouth.

“Burlington has stamina, I’ll give him that.

” He met Phoebe’s gaze in the lantern light.

“Are you doing well watching us beat each other like we’ve got no sense? ” It hurt to chuckle.

“I’ll admit, it’s both thrilling but disgusting.”

From outside the ring, Lewis snorted. “The man’s a force, this is true, but if you’ll watch closely, he favors his left knee. And his weight doesn’t make him as light on his feet as you.”

“Listen to your brother,” Phoebe said softly as she handed him a ladle full of cool water from an oaken bucket. “He’s been examining Mr. Burlington non-stop since the bout began. He and Alexander believe you can take him down in the fourth round sheerly by tiring him out.”

“I’d rather knock him out, but he’s massive.” But he nodded. “Thank you.”

“Focus.” Alexander gave his shoulder a shake. “You are letting his size intimidate you. Papa was larger than you, but you managed to take him down during sparring once. Keep your strikes fast and low then use your power for punches to the head. Use your strength to run him around.”

“Makes sense.” Duncan 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 Phoebe. “I appreciate your support.”

“Where else would I be?” she said with a shaking smile.

“Enough of that. You can romance each other later.” Lewis kneaded the muscles in Duncan’s shoulders. “It’s bare-knuckle boxing. If you can’t bring the beast down in his torso, use the bad knee to your advantage. Kick the back of it and sent him off balance.”

“I trust my skill, but I also know that prize fighting gets a bit dirty.”

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

“I’ll pummel you into death, Frampton,” Burlington growled. “Not as good a fighter as your father.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. There is no one like George Stapleton.” And perhaps there never would be, but none of that mattered. “I’m going to make his memory proud this night when I take you down.”

“You can try, but I’ll win the night.”

“I don’t believe I’ll give you that chance.”

“Break his nose, Duncan!”

Holy shit. That cry had been from Phoebe, and it warmed him from head to toe. I’m doing this for her , he reminded himself. For us.

With that small moment of distraction, a hard uppercut to his jaw had him staggering back several steps.

The crowd roared. Pain exploded through his face and jawline, but he kept his feet and hoped his teeth weren’t broken.

With a growl, Duncan lunged at Burlington.

He landed a few jabs to the bigger man’s stomach, cheek and chin, and then flitted behind the mountain to jam a fist into his ribcage, hoping to bruise a kidney.

The large man reeled and retreated before gathering himself. Seconds later, he charged at Duncan to exchange blows in close combat style.

Again and again, Duncan drilled his fists into the bigger man’s body, and in some places on the hard form, his blows felt quite ineffectual; the boxer simply wouldn’t fall.

Burlington got off a few good punches of his own, but Duncan had learned his craft well from his father.

Quick footwork kept him on his feet and out of the other man’s reach.

Though he was winded and aching, he was constantly looking for an opening, a weakness.

“All that flitting like a butterfly will see you unconscious soon.”

“It hasn’t failed me before,” he said in response. When the pain in various portions of his body became too insistent, he shoved it down and ignored it as best he could.

Annoyance lined the other man’s face. “You aren’t as good as your brothers.”

“That is all in the eye of the beholder, yet I’m still standing. Against you.” And he delivered a swift right hook to the other man’s cheek that sent the other man spinning about. As the crowd cheered, Burlington stumbled but he didn’t fall.

Seconds later, the round was once again called without a clear victor.

I grow weary of fighting a mountain. This needs to end.

Duncan strode back to his corner. He dropped heavily onto Alexander’s bent knee, panting.

The urge to vomit all over himself was strong, but he willed it away.

His body hurt and throbbed with pain; the ache in his head kept up a thrumming pulse.

“The man won’t go down. It’s like literally trying to tunnel into a mountain with a spoon. ”

“You are going to need to come up with a plan, for he’ll wait you out as your strength flags,” Alexander hissed, as Phoebe plied him with water. “Dig deeper.”

“I’m fucking trying.”

“Use his knee against him,” Lewis cautioned.

“I tried to get behind him, but he favors it too much.”

“Try again, man.”

“Right.” Duncan stood. He gave Phoebe the ladle. “Perhaps you should go keep Mama company in the coach.” The last thing he wanted was for her to see him defeated again.

“No. Don’t think to order me away just because you’re feeling insecure.

” When their gazes connected, she offered a tremulous smile but worry clouded her blue eyes.

“You are a lovely fighter, Duncan. Don’t let him into your mind.

If you need motivation, pretend that man wished me harm.

If you care at all for me, you wouldn’t stand for that.

” Her voice wavered. “Now go out there and defend against him.”

Did she think he didn’t care? Damn, but he needed to do a better job of showing that—saying it.

“Right.” While Alexander wrapped Duncan’s battered knuckles with thin strips of cotton, he shared a look with Phoebe.

Emotions he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—identify shadowed her eyes.

“I would never let any harm come to you.” Heated sensation went through him, followed by a blossom of hope that lifted his flagging spirits.

Their future together glimmered just out of sight.

And he wanted it more than anything.

“Get your head out of your arse, Duncan,” Alexander demanded as he finished wrapping Duncan’s knuckles and palms. “Romance can only happen if you win.”

“Indeed,” Lewis said with a huff. “Papa taught all of us to fight, and he never believed any of us were terrible at it. We have different styles, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Put him down like a rabid dog.” Alexander gave him a push, which refocused his thoughts.

“Thank you for that.” Shoving a hand through his sweat dampened hair, Duncan made his way back to the middle of the ring while the crowd roared its approval, of who he couldn’t say.

The judge blew his whistle again. The next round had arrived.

There was no time to think, for Burlington immediately took a swing at him, catching him on the shoulder so hard that he spun about.