He lunged for Nathaniel before Arnold had the opportunity to call the beginning of the match, avoiding the usual “keep it clean” speech altogether. But Nathaniel had expected as much from someone like Jonathan. Smiling, Nathaniel feinted to the side and felt the rush of air as the punch missed by a mile. He came back to his original position, enjoying the sight of Jonathan as the wretch stumbled forward, following the momentum of his harmless fist.
I wish you were here to see this,Nathaniel mused though he would not have dared bring Leah to such a place, even if they were technically in Kensington Palace Gardens.
Infuriated and so red that Nathaniel waited for steam to blow out of his ears, Jonathan whirled around and charged back at Nathaniel. But Jonathan was clumsy and ungainly, too tall to be agile, too bulky to be light on his feet, too furious to utilize any skill whatsoever. It was like a windmill of flesh, coming toward Nathaniel, and Nathaniel knew how to leap unscathed between the blades.
Ducking underneath Jonathan’s flailing arms, Nathaniel delivered a hard blow to the man’s gut, winding him. Jonathan bent double, spluttering as the men around him booed.
“You can surrender whenever you like,” Nathaniel teased, leaning back on the ropes as the crowd lifted their boos into a cheer of approval for their reigning champion.
Jonathan snorted like a bull, thundering across the sawdust, drawing back his arm to land a powerful blow. Nathaniel weaved out of the way, bobbed under Jonathan’s arm, and landed a powerful blow of his own to the back of Jonathan’s ribs. The impact sent Jonathan into the ropes where he hung for a moment like a shirt that had been pinned out to dry.
“Any time you like,” Nathaniel repeated, enjoying himself for once.
Usually, when he entered the boxing ring, a sort of trance overwhelmed him, every thought and emotion and flare of anger concentrated into the fight. But it was not about him this night. It was abouther. And the more he saw Jonathan struggling, purple with humiliation, already slicked with sweat, the lighter Nathaniel’s soul felt.
For a friend,he reminded himself.This is no less and no more than I would do for anyone I cared about.But as he waited for Jonathan to recover, he wondered if he really would do something like this if another of his friends were to ask him.
“You wretched pig!” Jonathan untangled himself from the ropes and returned for more, fists flying, feet shuffling. Yet, he could not find a way to strike Nathaniel, no matter how hard he tried. The closest he came was the slight graze of knuckles against Nathaniel’s cheek, but it was no worse than a rug burn: a small sting.
“Should he give up?” Nathaniel called to the crowd as Jonathan swayed in the center of the ring; the recipient of countless expert rabbit punches designed to weaken the opponent bit by bit.
“Highwayman! Highwayman! Highwayman!” they chanted back.
A moment too late, Nathaniel sensed the air behind him change. He whipped around in time to see Jonathan barreling toward him with murder in his eyes though the man’s legs dragged with fatigue, sweat pouring from his face. Jonathan was using the very last of his strength to make one last attack.
Nathaniel twisted his body, just not quite quick enough. Jonathan’s knuckles made contact with Nathaniel’s cheek—a feeble punch by any boxer’s standards but more tangible than the earlier graze. There’d be a small bruise at least. But Jonathan did not have the strength to pull himself back to land another punch, and as Nathaniel delivered a finishing blow to Jonathan’s jaw, the short battle was over.
Jonathan teetered, and like a tree that had just received the final cut, he fell backward, collapsing onto the ground with a puff of sawdust. The tent erupted with cheers, everyone roaring Nathaniel’s nickname. Undoubtedly, he had earned many of them a healthy sum that night. Nathaniel’s own payment, however, involved no coin whatsoever.
He walked toward the panting, sweating, half-conscious figure on the ground and leaned over him. “Be careful, m'lord,” he said darkly. “I knew a man once who thought he was untouchable, thought he could do as he pleased, say what he pleased, and treat people however he pleased and never pay penance for it. Toward women, mostly. But his crimes came for him in the end, and he paid the greatest price of all. So, m'lord, let this be a warnin’ to you. Watch what you do, take pains to be a better man, or you might find yourself meetin’ the same fate as him.”
Jonathan blinked up at him, his right eye already beginning to swell. “You… dare to… speak to me… like that?” he wheezed.
“You’re not the high-and-mighty lord here,” Nathaniel replied, smiling. “I am. So, consider this a lesson learned.”
He walked toward his corner and climbed through the ropes, heading for the curtained-off rear of the tent to the glorious sound of “Highwayman! Highwayman! Highwayman!” He could have soared upon the feeling for hours, had it not been for the sharp jolt of someone grabbing him by the back of his trousers.
Thinking it might be Jonathan trying to save some dignity, Nathaniel whirled around and braced for another round, only to find Bill standing there with a scowl upon his permanently disgruntled face.
“What was that?” Bill hissed. “You’re not a peacocker. You’ve never been a peacocker. You could’ve got yourself worse than a graze on the cheek if you’d been any slower at the end there. Why were you tauntin’ him like that?”
Nathaniel sighed. “It would take too long to explain.”
“You think I’ve got anywhere else to be?” Bill shot back, like the father Nathaniel wished he might have had—a tough man with a gentle heart instead of a cretin with a heart of stone.
Nathaniel paused, dropping his chin to his chest. “I wanted to punish him.”
“Aye, I saw that,” Bill grumbled.
“He hurt someone I… care for. I thought it only fair that I humiliate him in front of his peers the way he humiliated her in front of all of society,” Nathaniel said, feeling somewhat chastened. Ithadbeen foolish of him to parade in front of the crowd like that, riling them up, making them see Jonathan’s shame, instead of just finishing the bout quickly. Yet, the thought of Leah standing alone in a church, realizing no one was coming, steeled his resolve that he had done the right thing.
The ghost of a smile lifted one crinkled corner of Bill’s lips. “You were defendin’ the honor of a lass?”
“I suppose so.”
“Thatlass?” Bill nudged Nathaniel in the ribs.
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “I have told you all you need to know, so do not scold me too harshly. I am tired, and I have other engagements to attend to.”
