An Unlikely Debutante. Laura Martin
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work with his horses kept him physically fit and quick on his feet. Although he didn’t expect to win this fight he was confident he would at least be able to leave with at least his pride intact. It wasn’t really about winning or losing anyway. Alex knew it was his character that was being tested, not his skill—whether he was the sort of man to stand and fight or run and cower.
Slowly the two men circled each other, both light on their feet and constantly moving. For Alex all sounds of the surrounding crowd faded to a distant hum as he concentrated fully on his opponent. Suddenly Raul jabbed, a blow that was made to test Alex’s reactions more than anything, and Alex easily blocked it before returning a couple of lightning-quick body blows that elicited quiet grunts from Raul.
Backing off slightly, they circled again. This time Alex struck first, a powerful blow to Raul’s face that the gypsy wove away from at the last moment. Alex’s fist connected, but the impact was glancing and put him slightly off balance. Raul took full advantage of the situation and began hammering down blows, forcing Alex to go on the defensive. He retreated, using his arms to protect his face, and felt the swell of the crowd behind him.
Sensing Raul’s confidence at victory, Alex allowed him one more punch before feigning to the left and darting right. Before Raul could recover, he delivered a hard blow to the other man’s cheek, followed by a left hook to the jaw. At exactly the same moment, Alex felt Raul’s fist connect with his temple and a tearing pain in his eyebrow followed by the warm trickle of blood over his face.
Both men backed off, lifting their hands to their faces. Both sets of fingers came away wet with blood.
‘First blood.’ Raul grinned, wincing as the movement pained his split lip. ‘For a toff, you don’t fight badly. Now, let’s drink.’
Allowing himself to be led to where the cider was flowing, amid handshakes and claps on the back from the dozens of spectators, Alex realised Lina was nowhere to be seen. She had a habit of disappearing—she was quick and nimble and seemed to weave with ease through the crowds. He supposed it was from a lifetime of working at packed fairs, but right now it was a damned nuisance; he wanted to finalise their arrangement and maybe just see that sparkle of admiration in her eyes.
‘You will look after her?’ Raul asked as the two men knocked back their cups of cider.
‘I will care for her as though she’s my own sister,’ Alex promised.
‘Then I have no more objections. No idea how you got Lina to agree, though.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She hates your lot. Toffs. Always has...’ Raul paused, tapped his cup against Alex’s and grinned. ‘I don’t think you’re so bad myself.’
* * *
‘What a cosy little arrangement you’ve landed yourself in,’ Tom crowed, making Lina shudder as she caught a whiff of his horrific breath. ‘Whoring yourself out to a gentleman.’
‘I’m not—’ Lina caught herself and took a step back. It never paid to get into an argument with Uncle Tom.
‘Shall I expect payment today?’
‘He’s not paying me,’ Lina said.
‘Giving yourself away for free? Your dear mother would be turning in her grave.’
‘He has promised me gifts, certainly enough to cover the debt I owe you.’
‘I want the money.’
Lina shrugged. ‘I will just sell the gifts and then you can have the money.’
‘The deadline is still the end of the week, Lina.’
‘I won’t have the gifts for six weeks.’
‘Not good enough. I need the money now.’ There was a hint of panic in Tom’s voice that made Lina pause for a second.
She closed her eyes, steeling herself for the suggestion she was about to make, and then ploughed ahead. ‘If you give me the six weeks to raise the debt, I will pay you twelve pounds instead of ten.’
Uncle Tom regarded her thoughtfully. ‘Four weeks and I want fifteen pounds.’
Lina swallowed nervously, but still nodded. She didn’t exactly have a choice. She just hoped Lord Whitemore was generous in his gift giving.
‘And I want information.’
‘What information?’
‘Raul tells me you will be staying with this toff. You’ll be privy to his security arrangements, the layout of his house.’
A faint sensation of nausea started to build deep in Lina’s gut.
‘I’m not stealing anything for you.’
‘I’m not asking you to steal. Just to pass on a little information. What’s information amongst family?’
Lina shook her head.
‘That’s the deal, Lina. Either fifteen pounds and a little information in four weeks, or you pay the ten by the end of the week.’
Squeezing her eyes tight, Lina tried to suppress the image of her mother’s disappointed face as she nodded.
‘Good girl. I’ll be seeing you in a few days.’
The grass was wet beneath her feet as Lina crossed the field, hopping over a shallow ditch and scrambling up a bank before joining the road again. She had caught a ride on a farmer’s cart from Pottersdown to the village of Hilstone and from there a friendly shopkeeper had assured her it was no more than twenty minutes’ walk across the fields to Whitemore House. Lina had dallied, stopping to pluck some wildflowers to weave into her hair, resting on a tree stump and turning her face up to the sun and even pulling off her boots to dip her toes in the cool waters of a gurgling stream. The twenty-minute walk had turned into an expedition that lasted more than an hour, but now Lina knew she could delay no longer.
She wasn’t sure why she was quite so nervous. This was what she had been waiting for: an opportunity to change her life, to do something different, be somewhere different, at least for a short time. For every one of her twenty years she had lived and worked amongst her gypsy family, travelling through England, performing at fairs in the summer and doing whatever work she could find in the long winter months. For a while she had been restless, unsure what was bothering her, torn between a desire to actually belong somewhere and a carefree and adventurous spirit that wanted to experience everything the world had to offer. She couldn’t decide what she truly wanted from her life, so everything had just stayed the same.
‘New experiences,’ Lina murmured to herself as she stopped beside a pair of huge wrought-iron gates, pushed open to reveal a sweeping drive. Fingering the metal for a moment, she peered inside, trying to catch a view of the house.
The drive curved away to the left through immaculately kept lawns and disappeared over a dip with no house in sight. Swallowing her nerves, Lina pushed herself to enter the grounds of Whitemore House, aware of the pounding of her heart in her chest.
When the house did come into view, set back at the crest of a small hill with the drive sweeping dramatically in front of it, Lina had to stop and pause for a second. Then she laughed out loud. It was easily the biggest building she had ever laid eyes on and Raul had taken her into London twice and York once over the course of their travels. It was perfectly proportioned, one central structure with two symmetrical wings flanking it, all in a beautiful sandy-coloured stone.
After more than ten minutes of walking, Lina finally reached the front door and was self-consciously adjusting her dress as it opened before her.
A middle-aged man greeted her with a tight smile.
‘Miss Lock, I presume?’
Lina nodded, her mouth too