“Of course you would think so,” she mumbled. When she faced him again, Austin could have sworn he saw the faint sheen of tears in her eyes. She blinked and it was gone. “I am in no mood to continue the conversation. I should leave.”
She attempted to pass him again but he caught her wrist gently. “You don’t have to go, Lavender. Don’t let those ladies ruin your days.”
“If you think it is just the ladies, Austin, then you should think again.” She calmly pried her wrist away from him and walked away.
Austin wanted to chase after her. He would have, if he knew what to say to her. Frustration mounted in him with every step she took away from him and once he was alone in the drawing room, he let out a long breath.
He’d just made that situation worse, he realized. And as usual, he hadn’t a clue how to fix it.
Chapter Twenty-One
It didn’t take him long to realize that he couldn’t stay in the house stewing in his frustration any longer. Austin tried drinking something stronger than tea and it didn’t work. He paced around the house, barking nonsensical orders at his servants but that only worsened his mood, thinking about how disapproving Lavender would be if she saw him doing such a thing. By midday, he couldn’t handle it any longer and set course for the only place he could go to work off this anxious energy.
Had it been under the cover of nighttime, he would have gone straight to the docks. But since it was still during the light of day, Austin went to an old home in west London instead.
The house had once belonged to a baron who had lost his fortune to gambling. Austin didn’t know what had happened to the baron. All he knew was that the debts he’d incurred had made him quite a few enemies. A few of those enemies had chased him out of London. Others had taken his home and turned it into a den of sorts.
All sorts of shady characters came and went from this place. Austin had discovered it after he’d left university and had fallen in with a rough crowd out of rebellion to his father and stepmother. Since accepting the title, he thought that he would leave this life behind. But he supposed he was used to falling back into old habits once emotions ran high.
And his emotions were out of control.
He didn’t understand Lavender at all. He thought she would be pleased that he had invited Lady Lively into his home when she’d come to call on him. Albeit, he didn’t think that the conversation would turn to that but how was that his fault? Why would she think he deserved any of her anger?
Austin couldn’t understand it. And because he couldn’t understand it, he wanted to forget about it. And since he could not get Lavender and that look in her eyes before she’d left out of his head no matter how hard he tried, Austin sought distraction instead.
None of the men lingering in the yard of the den stopped him as he sauntered by. He had a bit of a name to these men. Ruthless, determined. Austin had always lived as if his life was dispensable and it had earned him a reputation that wasn’t easily shaken.
He entered and ignored the other men lounging about. These were men who had nothing better to do with their time than to plot and fight. Men from poor families, men from wealthy backgrounds looking for a tougher life. Walks of life that he shouldn’t be caught dead with. If Lavender knew he was here…
Austin shook his head, trying to banish her from his mind. It was easier said than done.
He made his way to the dining room. It looked the exact same as he’d last seen it. Most of the furniture had been cleared from the room and the art pieces had been sold a long time ago. In the center of the room, two men tussled with each other, while other men shouted around them. Austin ignored them, making his way to the left of the room.
“Well, would you look at this?” The lanky man lounged in a chair with his arm slung over the back of it. He was the only one with a chair. Everyone else leaned against the wall or sat on the floor. “I didn’t think I would live to see you walk back in here.”
“Never far from my mind,” Austin murmured, though it wasn’t quite true. He hadn’t thought about fighting since…well since he met Lavender.
“I suppose you cannot really take the fighter out of the man, even if you slap a title on his name.” The lanky man stood. He went by the name Sprout and had a reputation that earned him fear from nearly anyone who’d heard of him. One would never think that he was actually the third son of the Duke of Harrington.
Sprout had told Austin that in confidence and Austin never cared to tell anyone about his secret. Now that he looked at him though, he found it a bit amusing that discarded or ignored men of the ton usually ended up in the same place. He wondered how many others here were from titled families.
“I want a fight,” Austin stated.
“And a fight you will have.” Sprout shot from his chair. “Oi! Clear out!”
The two men who had been unsuccessfully trying to get the upper hand on each other followed the command quickly. They scrambled to their feet and hurried away from the middle of the room.
Austin went to take their place. In the corner of his eye, he saw Sprout shove someone else into the middle. The man who would now be his opponent had scars all over his arms and was already sporting a fading bruise under his eye.
It reminded Austin of the look of horror on Lavender’s face when he’d shown up to the tea party with his face bruised. Would she be upset if he did that again?
The answer came quickly even as the man threw the first punch. She would be upset. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to risk that again.
Austin dodged the punch and threw one into the man’s midsection. The feel of his knuckles colliding with flesh took the edge off. Austin would just have to make sure that he didn’t get punched in his face. Easy.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the man recovered far quicker than Austin expected and rammed his elbow into Austin’s chin. Austin’s head snapped back, stars filling his vision. But he was aware enough to dodge the kick aimed for his side. He caught another one, slamming his elbow on the man’s knee and shoving him back onto the floor.
His opponent was large and absorbed hits as if they were nothing. Nothing kept him down for long. Every blow Austin dealt felt as if he was hitting an unmoving wall that was all too eager to hit him back. Before long his attempt to keep his face bruise-free had failed. His entire body would be covered in bruises, his nose bleeding, and hopefully not broken.
