“W hy don’t you just give her the money and send her to America?”
Maximus groaned as his twin, Octavian, gleefully wrapped his arms about him, picked him up off the ground, and slammed him down.
Dust puffed up around them, mixing with the scent of flowers from his grandmother’s and aunts’ gardens.
“Bad play,” Hartigan Mulvaney called as he watched just a few feet away. “No breaking backs today, Octavian.”
“I dropped him on his side, and you know it was a small drop. But apologies if I was too vigorous.”
Maximus chewed dirt for a moment, then spat. He focused on his brother before memories of another day of being pounded into the earth could take hold of him. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think, Mulvaney?”
“Alas, I’m not quite as fast as I used to be, boy,” the Irishman said to Octavian. “I won’t be able to stop you if you decide to commit fratricide.”
“I’ve always wanted to be an earl,” Octavian teased.
Maximus rolled his eyes as he tried to get his breath back. Octavian loathed the idea of being the earl one day. His brother had been in a complete panic when he’d been wounded, though he’d tried to hide it. Mostly, it was because they were twins and so close, but also because Octavian had no wish for that sort of power and was committed to stopping Napoleon.
“Just mind you don’t crush my spine and interfere with my ability to make an heir, and all will be well,” Maximus managed to say, still sprawled in the dirt, not quite ready to stand. “Father would be most disappointed if I couldn’t. Though he has you and our little brother, just in case. Perhaps next time, you can shout at him a little earlier, Mulvaney.”
Mulvaney knelt down on the ground and gave him a solid grin before he patted him on the shoulder. “Will do, will do. I’ll try to do better next time. Now, you, sir,” he said, turning to Octavian. “That was dirty. I love it. It wasn’t his side. If you break his back, the Duke of Westleigh will kill me, and I prefer to stay on his good side.”
Octavian tsked, tugging at his linen shirt. “Uncle would never do anything to you, Mulvaney. He thinks you’re the best thing in the world.”
“Dukes can always do something to men like me if they so decide, and don’t be a fool. Things can change in an instant. We’re good friends, loyal, and have been for years, but if I start letting his nieces and nephews kill each other, I don’t think that I’ll be kept around very long. Do you?”
“Right. I’ll be careful with my big brother,” Octavian teased.
And Maximus was grateful for the banter, and the fact that his brother wasn’t treating him like he was a delicate porcelain vase. It had been one of his fears after being wounded, that they would all treat him differently.
“Still,” Mulvaney said, helping Maximus stand up, “the boy has a point. Why don’t you just give her the blunt and let her go to the New World?”
Maximus ground his teeth, took one look at his brother, and then rushed forward. He grabbed his leg and started to pull him down to the ground. His brother wasn’t having any of it. His brother was an excellent fighter, though this sort of skill was not usually required of an officer of the British Army fighting Napoleon on the Continent.
Octavian grabbed his waist and started to whip him around to get a good grip on his neck, but Maximus turned faster. He wrapped his arm around his brother’s throat and began to form a perfect chokehold.
“Brilliant,” Mulvaney said. “That’s it. That’s it. Make sure he can’t breathe. A little bit more. A little bit more, boy.”
Octavian slammed his hand against Maximus’s leg, twisted, then tried to get another hold, but Maximus was having none of it. Not after the whole thing about Peggy.
“Why won’t I just give her money and let her fly?” he growled, as he increased pressure. “What’s the answer to that? Well, that’s not how our family does things. We don’t throw money at problems.”
“Is she a problem?” Mulvaney asked, as he watched the two of them grapple.
Octavian let out a bleat as he slammed his head back.
Maximus jerked back before his brother could crack his nose with the back of his head.
“Oh, I think he says he’s done. Well done on the return,” said Mulvaney.
The two of them staggered apart. Mulvaney looked from man to man. “Are we good? Do we need to go further?”
Octavian braced his hands on his knees and sucked in air. “Why do you always have to go for throat holds?”
“Because I like it,” said Maximus, grinning. “It’s great fun when people can’t breathe.”
Octavian shot him a deathly stare. “I understand that you think you’re the biggest and the toughest.”
“I am the biggest and the toughest,” Maximus said. “I only had to leave the war because my bloody eye got popped out.”
Octavian shuddered.
Maximus arched his patch-free brow. “I’m sorry. Too vivid?”
Octavian arched a brow back.
“Apologies. It really is grim, isn’t it?” Maximus teased.
“Why are you apologizing to me?” Octavian said, “You’re the one who lost an eye.”
“It’s true,” he said.
“I should grab your eye patch and rip it off, shouldn’t I?” Octavian gave him a merry grin—the grin only a twin could give. “Then you’d never put me in a chokehold again.”
“I swear to God, if you grab my eye patch and rip it off, I’ll grab your balls and—”
“That is a good threat.” Octavian let out a laugh.
“And I believe him,” Mulvaney said. “I’d leave the eye patch alone.”
Mulvaney had been in war and fought hard. He’d never been an officer. No. He’d been on the ground fighting. The sort of fighting that left one face down in the mud, the sort of fighting that made one cannon fodder. The sort of fighting that left everyone’s mates dead, and yet Hartigan Mulvaney had survived. And he’d come back to England to start a business in which he taught gentlemen how to fight. Not that silly business over at Gentleman Jackson’s, where people pranced about and tried to punch each other in the face.
No, this was proper fighting, the sort of stuff that kept men alive in dire situations or made it possible to have a little foray into the East End without a pistol and without needing to worry about being killed. Though even then, it was chancy. It was difficult going into a place where somebody could be jumped by multiple individuals.
“You should let this one go,” Mulvaney said to him quietly.
“What?” Maximus said, blinking.
“She’s not someone you’ll understand.”
Maximus sucked in a shocked breath. “I don’t understand why you would say such a thing, Mulvaney. Why would you try to…”
“Because you two come from such different worlds. It’ll be like an officer and a foot soldier. It might have worked for your grandfather and your grandmother. But lightning doesn’t always strike twice…”
“What about Aunt Giselle? She was the bloody governess,” he demanded. “I don’t see why Peggy is different.”
Mulvaney groaned. “You are lost, boy. And that, Octavian, is why he’s not giving her money so she can go. A good man would just hand over the blunt, let her get on the boat, hie off, and have the life she wants, but he wants her to stay. He wants her for himself.”
“He wants to marry her,” Octavian said brightly. “What a countess she will make. I can’t wait to see it. The ton will have conniptions. Which they should have every few years, if you ask me.”
“Can you imagine Peggy Cutmore,” Hartigan Mulvaney said softly, “as your wife?” But then Mulvaney smiled. “Maybe it’d be just the thing. I just worry that you two will never really understand each other.”
“Do you know her?” he asked, wiping the dust from his hands on his fawn breeches.
“No. Of course not. But I know a few girls like her. Raised hard. Skilled at thieving. She’s grown up to trust no one. She’s fiery. She’s tough. And I would wager on her in a fight with you two gentlemen.”
“You’d wager on me for what?” Peggy asked.
Maximus jumped and turned to see her.
Good God, she was something.
She was dressed in a flowing yellow gown, cinched just below her breasts with a blue ribbon. Her hair was arranged in curls about her face. She looked as if she’d been born to live at Heron House.
Maximus didn’t care what anyone said. This was where she was meant to be.
It’s why it had been him who had found her stealing the clock. His grandmother was right. This was what Peggy was meant for.
Hartigan let out a laugh. “Peggy, my dear, I have heard many things about you this morning. I am Hartigan Mulvaney. I teach these two what you do on a daily basis.”
“Oh, and what’s that?” she teased merrily.
“Fight.”
“Fight.” She laughed. “These two? Maybe, perhaps. They’re so handsome that they might stun everyone in the East End before everyone rushed them, stole every piece of their clothing, and left them naked and staggering out of that part of town.”
Mulvaney threw his head back and laughed because it was true.
Maximus eyed her. “I see you’re taking sides against me, even though we are meant to be friends.”
“We discussed it. You and I aren’t to be friends. We’re partners. We teach each other things, and I’m teaching you now. Besides, I did tell you I thought you might stand a chance in the East End, didn’t I? Now you can prove it.”
Maximus groaned. “All right. So you could take one of us down. Is that what you’re saying?”
Hartigan smiled. “Oh, that one? Look at her. She’s agile. She’s sharp. She’s canny. I bet if you two went down an alley together, she could leave you face down in the mud in a trice and have your purse in her pocket. Isn’t that true, my dear?”
“I’m not going to brag, Mr. Mulvaney.”
“Just Mulvaney,” he said.
“You know that if I brag about it,” she continued, her eyes dancing, “it means that it’s not true, so I won’t be caught by that trap.”
“Ooh, this one is dangerous, lads,” Mulvaney said, clearly enjoying the morning. “Would you like to have a go at one of them, Peggy? I’m sure you could put one of them on the ground.”
Peggy looked from one gentleman to the next. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”
“I think it’s the best idea I’ve had in a long time. These two are so arrogant, nobody can touch them in London. And, of course, the real toughs, well, they’re scared of upsetting the Duke of Westleigh. But you are not, are you?”
She looked at Maximus. “Is it what you want?” she asked.
Maximus eyed her. “To tangle with you? Of course it is. I’d love to get a good feel for how you move. Again.”
“Oi,” Mulvaney said, “that could sound wrong, but I know you. So let’s give it a go.”
Octavian stood to the side and folded his arms across his broad chest. “This I have to see.”
Peggy stood in her beautiful linen dress, eyeing him.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said warily.
She smiled at him. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
Then suddenly Maximus had an odd feeling race through him. She was taking this very, very well. “All right,” he said. “Here we go.”
Mulvaney took a step back. “Peggy, use whatever means you need, aside from outright murder. Maximus, just don’t throw her onto the ground. All right?”
“I would never.”
Mulvaney gave a tight nod. “I know it, but she might surprise you, and you might act out of instinct.”
“Right then.” Mulvaney clapped his hands together.
And the two of them began to circle each other, except he was circling like a grappler, and she was walking around like a cocky barnyard rooster. She was smiling at him as if this was the most amusing thing in the whole world.
But surely, she couldn’t win. He’d already tossed her over his shoulder once and kept her there. Then again… She’d sunk her teeth into him.
That smile of hers only grew as she took her time, looking as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
“Peggy,” he said, “you are scaring me.”
She laughed. “I don’t know why. Don’t I look perfectly pleasant?”
“Yes, and it’s frightening,” he said.
“Good,” she said.
And then he went in to grab her about the waist. He expected her to resist, but she didn’t. As a matter of fact, she threw her arms up in the air, went completely limp, slipped down through his grip, then grabbed his booted foot and yanked it up in the air. He fell hard like a tree landing.
His head nearly hit the ground, but he caught himself just in time before he would have seen stars. And then before he could even think, Peggy was crawling up his body like a wrestler, wrenching him over and grabbing him from behind.
She wrapped her legs about his waist and went straight for his throat.
“I saw you doing the same sort of hug to your brother,” she said brightly. “I thought it looked like a most excellent plan,” she whispered in his ear.
And her hold grew tighter. He started to press her back into the ground.
And then he knew the only way he’d actually be able to stop her would be if he crushed her back. And there was no way he was going to do that.
Mulvaney knew.
He tried to roll over onto his hands and knees. But here was the thing. If this was a real battle or war, she would have had a knife on her. She would have been able to choke him and stab him if he tried to kill her by dropping her on her back.
He let out a groan as the vision in his one good eye dimmed a bit.
Her hold was shocking. And the next thing he knew, he was tapping the earth.
Octavian was laughing louder than anything. “I want a turn,” he cried out. “I want a turn.”
Peggy turned to him. “You’ve already had an experience today. You don’t need another. I don’t want anyone accusing me of stealing your wits.”
Octavian choked on a laugh. “The great Maximus fallen by a girl. It’s the best thing ever.”
Mulvaney looked at Octavian. “I think that she should do it to you too.”
“No, thank you. One brother is enough,” she said. “I like this one better than that one. Though, Octavian, I do think you’re an interesting fellow.”
Octavian gave her a bow. “Thank you, Peggy.”
“Someone help me up,” Maximus groaned.
Peggy turned to him and offered her his hand. “Come on then, you great big man,” she said. “Let’s get you up.”
“You could have escaped in the hall,” he rasped, rubbing his throat.
“No. Not really,” she said. “You had too good a hold on me, and you’re fast. A fight like this? It’s very different. I know you’d never really hurt me, Maximus. But I didn’t know that then. If I’d fought back hard, you could have done me real harm.”
“I’d never—”
She offered her hand again. “I know. Truly.”
And with some effort, she managed to help him stagger to his feet. “So, I’ve showed you a little bit of my world, and now you might be able to imagine what my life is like.”
“This is my world, Peggy,” he said gently, gesturing to the gardens surrounding them, Mulvaney, and his brother.
She frowned. “I see.”
He rubbed his throat again. “Do you often do that to people?”
“Not generally,” she said. “People can tell from the way I walk in the East End to avoid me. Even the toughest blokes know I’m usually carrying something in my reticule when I’m walking that could make their life quite hard.”
“Peggy, I think you’re marvelous,” the Irishman said.
“Thank you, Mulvaney,” she said happily. “You’ve taught them quite well. Though they don’t fight with enough tricks.”
“They’re gentlemen.”
“I can see that. And the truth is,” she said, looking up at Maximus, “if you weren’t a gentleman, I wouldn’t be able to beat you unless I was armed.”
He smiled down at her. “Thank you for saying such a nice thing to me.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she whispered.
But he wanted to. Oh, how he did.