A Dandy in Disguise

by Meredith Bond

  Perhaps it was him. He had had a most difficult time of it recently. In a very short period of time his entire life had been turned upside down.

  But what still disturbed him the most was...

  “Good morning, Fungy.”

  ...Merry.

  Fungy stopped hitting the punching bag just in front of his face. Turning he saw his cousin and Sin strolling past him on their way to the punching bags next to his.

  “Doing well,” Sin said, shedding his coat and waistcoat.

  “He always has excellent form,” Merry commented, taking off his own coat.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” Fungy said coldly.

  Merry paused to look at him before taking off his waistcoat. “Haven’t seen you around recently. Is everything all right?”

  “Fine. Just fine, thank you. Yourself?” Fungy asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

  “I’ve been well.”

  “Teresa and the baby?”

  “They are doing very well. Teresa finally settled on a nursemaid, so we have all been getting more sleep.”

  “Glad to hear that.” Fungy turned back to the bag, but it no longer looked so interesting.

  He took a step toward his cousin. “Care to spar with me, Merry?”

  Both men turned in surprise to him.

  “You want to fight, Fungy?” Sin asked.

  “Yes, is there a problem with that?”

  “No, it is just that I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you actually sparring with anyone before. You usually just work the bag.”

  “Today I am in the mood for something different,” he shrugged. “What do you say, Cousin?”

  Merry gave him a little bow. “I would be happy to.” He then gave Fungy a teasing smile. “Do you really think you stand a chance? I’m a bit heavier than you are.”

  “No matter. I can take you on,” Fungy responded quickly.

  Merry laughed. “That’s what you always said when we were little and I would still always beat you.”

  Fungy found nothing amusing in this. He just flexed his hands. “And I thought you had completely forgotten our youth.”

  With that parting shot, he stepped into the ring in the center of the room, and waited for his cousin to join him.

  “What was that supposed to mean?” Merry asked, following him.

  “Only that you and Sin both seemed to have conveniently forgotten both our youth and me.” He hit Merry hard across his jaw.

  Merry wasn’t prepared, and he dropped to the floor like a stone.

  Sin jumped into the ring to help him up. “I say, Fungy, that was not fair.”

  “Why not? He should have been ready.” Fungy moved from foot to foot. “Come on, Merry. What’s your problem? Have you forgotten your boast of just a moment ago, as well?”

  Merry shrugged Sin off of him and put up his fists, now ready for an earnest fight. “I don’t know what your problem is, Fungy, but if you want a fight, I’m ready.”

  Merry ended up mostly defending himself, as Fungy held nothing back. In a surge of flying fists, he released all of his anger and hurt on his cousin.

  How could Merry think him irresponsible? Hook right. How could he not trust him? Uppercut left. Why could an utter stranger see through his façade while his own best friend and cousin whom he had grown up with could not see past it? He punched him a doubler with a quick left–right combination, coming down hard.

  How was it that Merry had so conveniently forgotten how responsible Fungy had been when they were together in school? All he saw now was Fungy’s precise dressing and his outward demeanor of ennui. Merry had forgotten who St. John Fotheringay–Phipps really was—and that hurt more than anything else.

  Fungy landed another well–placed right hook to his cousin’s jaw and Merry went down, but Fungy wasn’t finished. He dropped to one knee and continued pummeling his cousin, giving free rein to all of his latent anger.

  He was past caring or even thinking about what he was actually doing. All he cared about now was beating out all of his fury on the one who had caused it.

  A strong hand grabbed his arm as he was about to land another blow to Merry’s jaw, and pulled him back and to his feet.

  He spun around, ready to attack whoever it was who had pulled him away, but found his nose within inches of Gentleman Jackson himself. The man, although shorter than Fungy, was a good deal larger and immeasurably stronger.

  “I think that is enough, sir,” he said quietly, but firmly.

  Fungy backed down.

  “My God, did you see that? He floored Merrick like he was nothing.” He heard one onlooker say to another.

  “Got a bit out of control there, didn’t he?” the second gentleman said.

  “Not quite a fair mill. Merrick didn’t stand a chance under that onslaught,” said another.

  They were right. Fungy took a deep breath then turned around and extended his hand down to his cousin.

  He was still breathing hard, but the pounding in Fungy’s head was beginning to subside. Never before had he ever wanted to hurt anyone as much as he had wanted to hurt Merry. And as he helped his cousin to stand up, he prayed that he never would again.

  Merry’s face was already beginning to turn black and blue. Sin quickly handed him a handkerchief to stem the trickle of blood that was dripping from his nose.

  Fungy walked from the ring and began to dress. He was carefully tying his neckcloth in front of a mirror when Merry came up behind him, still buttoning his waistcoat, and touched him on the shoulder.

  “Shall we dine at Whites?”

  “Happy to.”

  For the first time in a while, Fungy felt quite light–hearted, and much more like his old cheery self.

  As he walked out with Sin and his cousin, still smiling and joking even through his slightly battered face, Fungy felt a pang of contrition. He wondered for a moment whether he ought to thank his cousin for understanding him so well, and for letting him take out his frustrations on him.

  But he kept his own counsel, knowing that the thanks would be more uncomfortable for his cousin than the injuries he had just sustained.

  Chapter Thirteen

  WHO is that, Rose? That is certainly the finest horse I have seen yet,” Thalia said, looking ahead to their left, where a black gelding ridden by an straight–backed gentleman was coming toward them.

  “I believe that is Lord Hawksmore. He is a duke. I am certain that he would not even look my way.”

  “Oh.”

  “What about the gentleman over there, driving that high–perch phaeton with the bright yellow wheels? He is very handsome,” Laia said, straining her neck to get a better view.

  “Laia, sit properly. You look like you are about to fall off your horse,” Rose reprimanded her sister.

  Laia shifted herself back into her proper position and frowned at Rose. “Well, I don’t see how we can see anybody, with this line moving so very slowly,” she complained.

  “But that is the way it is in the park at this time of day. If you want to see anyone, you must be patient.”

  “Oh, look!”

  “What, Thalia, is it another handsome horse?” Laia asked, sounding extremely bored.

  Thalia whipped her head around and looked like she was about to stick her tongue out at her sister. She refrained, however, and merely said in her haughtiest voice, “It is a very handsome man, if you want to know.”

  “Where?” Laia was instantly very interested, and stretched her neck out once more to see where her sister had been looking.

  “Ha! You are only interested in the men.”

  “Well, that is what we are here for after all—not to look at horses! Rose doesn’t want to marry a horse.”

  “All right, that is enough,” Rose said, with as much authority as she could muster through her suppressed laughter.

  They had been riding around the park for nearly thirty minutes, tempers shortening as the ride grew longer.

  It wasn’t even only her sisters
whose tiredness affected their tempers; she knew that she, too, was becoming rather downcast. Looking at handsome gentlemen and fine horses was not going to help her to find a rich husband. And she was not entirely sure that this was the best use of her time.

  What she needed was another opportunity to play cards. It was the only way out of her current dilemma.

  She had to win back the vowel she had written to Lord Kirtland. Then she could resume playing to pay off the bills, and only then everything would finally be all right. But just now, it was her debt to Lord Kirtland that was worrying her the most.

  Of course, if she married Lord Kirtland the problem would be solved, a little voice in the back of her head reminded her. And it was possible that she could. He did try to kiss her last night.

  The salty taste of blood told her that she’d been nibbling too long and too hard at her lip. No one was going to want to kiss her if she kept doing that.

  “It’s not fair! Thalia is much taller than I am, she can see more,” Laia complained, abruptly bringing Rose’s mind back to the present.

  Rose ignored her and asked, “Thalia, who did you see that you were exclaiming over just a moment ago?”

  “It is Fungy, Rose, over there.” This time she pointed her finger, despite Rose having told her not to do so numerous times.

  Rose did not reprimand her sister again, and just turned. It was indeed Fungy, driving a beautiful bright red phaeton pulled by a very fine looking black horse.

  Not to be outdone by his equipage, Fungy himself was wearing a deep green, double–breasted coat, which showed off his broad shoulders and narrow waist. If Rose had not already known that his shoulders and arms were muscular from having seen him without his coat on the day he saved Thalia from the river, his clothing today would have left no doubt to it at all.

  “Oh, my,” Laia sighed.

  Rose echoed the sentiment, but had the presence of mind not to say so out loud.

  Then he leaned back, laughing at something, and Rose caught a glimpse of his companion. She felt as if the breath had been taken from her body.

  Fungy had invited Miss Halsbury out for a drive!

  “Who is that young lady with whom he is driving? Do you know her, Rose?” Thalia asked.

  Rose’s mind was in a whirl making it difficult to answer her at first, but then she reprimanded herself for her petty jealousy and said, “Harriet Halsbury. She is a very nice girl. I met her at Lady Anson’s soiree.”

  There was no reason why she should be jealous of Miss Halsbury, Rose told herself, sternly sucking the blood from her lip again. She was not interested in Fungy. She was going to marry Lord Kirtland.

  That thought stopped her for a moment. Had she actually made up her mind to marry him? She shrugged mentally. She supposed she had.

  She then nodded to herself. Yes, she had. She was absolutely right. She was going to marry Lord Kirtland. Fungy was just a very kind, and handsome, friend—nothing more.

  In fact, she told herself, she was very happy he was out with Miss Halsbury. She liked Miss Halsbury.

  “What is he doing driving with her?” Laia asked, peevishly.

  “Why should he not?” Rose asked.

  “Because he should be out driving with you,” Thalia answered for her older sister.

  “Yes,” Laia concurred.

  “No,” Rose replied. “He should be out driving with whomever he wants. And clearly, he wants to be with Miss Halsbury.” Rose spurred her horse toward Fungy’s phaeton. “Come, let’s say hello.”

  Fungy reined in his horse as soon as he saw Rose and her sisters approaching.

  “How do you do, Miss Grace, Miss Thalia, Miss Laia,” he said, nodding his head to each of the sisters in turn.

  “How do you do, Fungy? How nice to see you, Miss Halsbury. It is a lovely day for a ride, is it not?” Rose said, brightly.

  “Fungy, it is good to see you again,” Laia said warmly.

  “How do you do?” Thalia added, nodding to both Fungy and Miss Halsbury.

  Rose introduced her younger sisters to Miss Halsbury, who smiled sweetly at them, but said nothing.

  “I do hope you haven’t had the urge to go swimming again, Miss Thalia?” Fungy asked, smiling at her.

  Thalia laughed. “No, sir. I think I shall follow your advice and wait until we go out into the country to do that again.”

  “Do you enjoy swimming, Miss Thalia?” Miss Halsbury asked with a polite smile.

  “Yes, I do, but that is not what Fungy is referring to,” she said, giggling.

  “Unfortunately, Thalia had a little mishap at the docks the other day and ended up in the river. Fungy was kind enough to help her out again,” Rose explained briefly.

  “What do you mean, help her out again? You make it sound so tame, Rose,” Laia objected. “She fell into the water, Miss Halsbury, and her dress caught on something so that she could not swim back to dock by herself. Fungy was incredibly brave and dove in after her. He nearly drowned in the process of saving her!”

  “Oh, my!”

  “Miss Laia’s version does make it sound much more exciting, but it was nothing, really,” Fungy said dismissively. “Glad to see you suffered no ill effects, Miss Thalia.”

  “None at all. Did you? You seemed to be a little upset by the whole thing,” Thalia said, looking at Fungy with concern.

  “Thalia!” Rose protested her sister’s blunt honesty.

  “It is all right, Miss Grace,” Fungy said. “I was, indeed, upset by it. Diving into the river is not very pleasant, nor is nearly drowning. However, Miss Thalia, thanks to your eldest sister, I am perfectly well to tell the tale.”

  Laia and Thalia looked to Rose in surprise, but she had no idea what he was talking about. She was no less shocked by this pronouncement than her sisters seemed to be. “Me? Whatever did I do, sir?”

  Fungy looked at her with disconcerting warmth in his eyes. “Why, you called out to me, Miss Grace. It was your sweet voice that called me back from the watery depths.”

  “Oh.” Rose did not know what to say, but for some reason she found herself with a great desire to reach out and take Fungy’s hand, or to touch him in some way. Their eyes locked for just the briefest moment, but in that short space of time she knew that he was feeling the same way.

  The tingles that she had been thinking about just that morning went rushing through her body. His deep blue, smiling eyes took up her whole world.

  Her horse shifted under her and she was brought back to reality with a jolt.

  “You were so long under the water,” she stammered by way of explanation. She could feel the stares of both her sisters and Miss Halsbury, and she knew that she must be blushing furiously.

  “Ah, well, now my little secret is out, I suppose.” Fungy’s cheeks turned slightly pink as well. Had he not meant to say such a personal thing?

  There was an awkward silence, and then a voice called from behind Fungy’s phaeton. “I say, Fungy, are you going to begin moving again or do I have to try and go around you?”

  A look of relief swept over his face before Fungy turned around and waved at the gentleman behind him. “You will have to excuse us, Miss Grace...” he began.

  “Of course,” she said, and turned her horse quickly so that she and her sisters could reenter the flow of traffic going the other way. “Good bye. It was very nice seeing you again, Miss Halsbury, you will have to stop by and pay us a visit sometime,” she said, just before riding away.

  It wasn’t that she was anxious to get away from Fungy, she thought as she kicked her horse into a trot, it was simply too embarrassing a situation, and to have had to endure that with her sisters watching... well, she just hoped that they wouldn’t question her about it later. And it had nothing to do with her feelings for Fungy. He was simply a friend, she reminded herself firmly, despite the tingles.

  ~~~~

  Fungy saw Miss Halsbury looking shrewdly at him as they continued on their drive through the park.

  He was s
ure that the ever–perceptive Miss Halsbury knew exactly what was on his mind—why in heaven’s name he had told them all that Miss Grace had saved him from drowning.

  The problem was that he had no answer whatsoever. He had not wanted to make Miss Grace feel awkward—which she had, of course. He had not wanted Miss Halsbury to feel as if he wanted to be with Miss Grace rather than her—which just might be the truth, but that was not the point.

  The point was that he should not have revealed himself in such a way. It was very unlike him to do so. And the look which they shared—it was simply not something one did in public!

  “Miss Halsbury, you must excuse my lapse. Cannot imagine what caused me to even mention that Miss Grace had called out to me.”

  “It is quite obvious why, Fungy,” Miss Halsbury said quietly.

  “Indeed, no. Not at all what you think. Why, I have rarely enjoyed an afternoon spent in a young lady’s company as much as I have enjoyed our time together today.”

  “That is very kind of you to say...”

  “Not just saying it, Miss Halsbury, I truly mean it. You are as delightful as a summer’s day, as sweet as the most delicious confection—although thankfully, not sticky at all.”

  Miss Halsbury laughed, distracted. “You shall soon have me blushing, Fungy.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little flirtation, Miss Halsbury. Rather expected, I would think.”

  “Yes, I suppose so, but entirely unnecessary, I assure you.” She turned her attention back to the people all around them, with a smile on her lips. Fungy felt as if he’d had a narrow escape.

  He stole a glance over at Harriet Halsbury. She was a very pleasant young lady, but definitely not his type. He sensed that she knew that, and therefore did not expect him to woo her. It was a good thing—she deserved better than him.

  Miss Grace, on the other hand, was surely the road to his destruction. She caused him to lose control over his carefully constructed persona, to say such ridiculous things as he had done today. With barely a word, she encouraged him to do more and to be more. She had him quoting De La Rochefoucauld, reading Greek, wanting to save her and her sisters from the awkward situations they got themselves into, thinking of things he had not thought of in so long. Things he hadn’t thought of since before Georgiana left him and took his heart with her.