Finn cocked his head back as he usually did when thinking, as though something in the corner of the ceiling held the answers he needed. “No, not her,” he said. “She's innocent. Pure. Pure is the word I would use.”
Galen snorted. “She works at a bawdy house.”
“I rode through a muddy field in Derbyshire once where a single blue flower bloomed in the midst of all that mud. That's Miss O'Malley.”
“That, my dear boy, is a flower that is about to be plowed under mud.”
“There's no joy in crushing a thing of singular beauty. I rode around it. As, apparently, did everyone else who rode through that week, because upon my return it was still there.”
“A week, eh? In a week your little flower will be throwing herself under my horse's hooves no matter how much I try to ride around her.”
Finn's smile became brittle. “Don't abuse her, Galen, I shouldn't care for that.”
“I've never abused a woman, I've no need to. You will see that she isn't as different as you think.”
* * * *
Maeve realized that for most of her life she had risen with a glad heart to face what the day had to bring. Apparently, that glad heart had gone missing. She dragged herself downstairs as though she had fallen to an ague. Today was one of the days that, upon completion of her household chores, she would lead the sisters through their fighting practice. Then tomorrow she would work with the girls who were the most novice. Willy hoped to showcase fights at least four nights a week eventually. The first month they were open he had tried to spread out the fights to four nights, but found that combining the four best girls into one long night on Saturday yielded the best crowd and profit. The other nights had been inconsistent since then, with the girls coming and going and Maeve trying to teach the new ones enough to at least not hurt themselves and their opponents.
But for now, it was the sisters. And Bridget wasn't concentrating.
“Stop throwing that arm out there like that,” Maeve said for a fourth time. “You're tiny. If you don't follow through with the shoulder than you might as well slap her.”
“Maybe I want to slap her,” Bridget said testily, eying Eva.
Eva turned and shook her bottom. “Then do it here. You know I like a spanking.”
“Girls,” Margie said. She was barely the oldest, but with her stern, practical demeanor tended to be their mother hen.
Eva shrugged. “I thought maybe she wanted to play.”
“Play with your men, not each other,” Margie admonished.
Maeve bit her lip. Was this what the rest of her life held? Saucy, catty women? Endless attempts to teach boxing to women who didn't even really care about it, so long as it provided them blunt and raised their reputation among the men who paid them for sport? There were lives of far greater suffering, tasks far more onerous. But her soul quailed at the thought of weeks, months, years spent in this horrid pursuit. And that such a fate would be the kindest one. What would she do if the Enchanted Cave turned her out? Where could she find another house that would not force her into distasteful acts? If she couldn't find work in a fine house or at a shop, both things she had already failed once, then what else could she do?
She turned her attention back to her sisters and the matter at hand. Though to what advantage it really was to train the girls rigorously, she didn't know. But for now it was all she had. All she could hold on to when everything else she thought she knew, thought she was, shifted away from her.
THE ENCHANTED CAVE
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Galen's intention had been to take the week to flirt with Miss O'Malley, but an emergency had called him out of town. Now it was Saturday eve and he would be lucky to make it to the Enchanted Cave before the bouts started. He resisted the temptation to thump on the roof of his carriage to encourage his driver to go faster and stewed instead. Had Finn done anything foolish in his absence? It was possible that Galen should take it upon himself to give the earl some idea of what might happen, but he knew in his heart that Finn would take such meddling as betrayal, even if done in Finn's best interests.
Upon arrival he saw that the Cave was already busy for the evening. Ruby saw him and excused herself from her current paramour to stroll over.
“Do you need help, Lord Mornay? You seem to be looking for someone.”
Who to look for first? “Do you know where Miss O'Malley is?”
For the briefest moment her eyes held irritation, but then she said, “Since it's you. Come this way.” She tossed her head toward a side door and then preceded him to it, undoubtedly hoping the movement of her hips proved distracting. It did, a bit.
After going down two hallways, some steps, and through another room, they walked into the kitchens. Miss O'Malley stood near the ovens and seemed to be exercising. She wasn't alone in the kitchens, but it was a large space and no one seemed to be paying her any mind. Or him, for that matter. Galen leaned on the doorway to observe her. Stretch, crouch, jump, a series of punches into the air, and finally hopping from foot to foot. Then she repeated it again.
“Does that help?” he asked.
She halted her movement suddenly, a frown on her face. “How did you get here?”
“Considering I was in Winchester this morning, it's a rather long, boring story. There's a lot of carriage wheels and horse smell involved. I can't recommend it.”
Her face was flushed from her exertions, and perhaps from the heat of the ovens. It was infernal hot down here. She padded over to him on bare feet, but stopped better than a foot away and crossed her arms. “All right. Why are you here?”
“To see you, of course.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. Her demeanor was tired, more so than her exertions accounted for. Well, he was tired, too. Not only weary of body, but tired of trying to save this dumb lot from themselves. Finn thought she was some paragon, but she was just a woman. Like all of them, something would tempt her. If it wasn't the opportunity for the luxury and riches of being a kept woman, then it might be the pleasures of the flesh. There was, of course, one quick way to determine that.
He smiled. “I thought you might like a good luck kiss.” He moved quickly to forestall any missishness on her part. Sometimes all a girl wanted was to be able to blame a brute of a man for forcing her to seek her pleasure.
It quickly became apparent that Miss O'Malley was not such a girl. Not only had she failed to respond to his kiss or melt into his arms, she was actively struggling to free herself. It was like trying to kiss a bag full of angry cats.
When he released her she not only pushed away but struck him in the arm.
“How dare you!” Another punch. “Don't ever think to do that again.” A third punch.
Rather than suffer her ire he walked away.
* * * *
Maeve was still trembling from anger when Willy came to fetch her. How dare the man kiss her? And when he let her go his face had been as coldly impassive as the shale cliffs he had originally reminded her of. What did he think to gain from kissing her? She had thought him kind once, and passably charming. He was a horrid brute. He'd made her feel every inch the soiled dove she knew society now thought her to be. How was she to survive a life like this?
Her opponent for the evening was Ruby. Having given up on being one of the Irish Sisters, Ruby had dubbed herself The Scottish Lass and was making headway on increasing her popularity. While Willy did his boisterous calling to the crowd, Ruby stepped close.
“I saw that kiss you gave Lord Mornay. Our little Virgin isn't so chaste anymore. I wonder how long it will be before Willy has you strip to the waist like the rest of us.”
Having delivered her barbs, Ruby stepped away to strip off her blouse but leave her tartan in place, calling out to the crowd and playing to their desires. When the red-head turned back, Maeve didn't even look to Willy. She came in with a hard jab that laid Ruby out like a dress in want of pressing.
The sudden and decisive violence stunned the crowd. They were used to
at least a few solid minutes of sparring before anything of consequence occurred. Maeve saw the malice in Willy's eyes, but he turned his attention to the crowd.
“Our Mighty O'Malley!” Willy cried. “She has shown that women are no longer a challenge for her. Is there a man in the house brave enough to take her on? Yes, that's right. Just like the amazing Elizabeth Stokes, Maeve O'Malley could fight any one of you. Who is man enough?”
Maeve could hear some shouts of no, and saw the lords Cole and Mornay trying to jostle their way to the ring. There were some younger boys near the fight that the crowd tried to push forward, but only one of them was even Maeve's height and she easily had a full stone on him. She wouldn't fight a boy, no matter what Willy might say.
Then a young buck nearby called out, “I'm your man.”
His friends quickly hustled him to the ring. He was clearly drunk, but that might just mean he was twice as dangerous. Maeve put up her fists and began to pray.
THE ENCHANTED CAVE
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Galen was still trying to push his way through the crowd when Finn's voice stopped him.
“Look at her.”
Galen looked over the cheering, jeering crowd to see Miss O'Malley. If her exercises in the kitchen had been the rote recitation of dance steps, this was the dance. The fool she faced was deep in his cups, and she kept him at bay as she decided how to handle him. He only got one lucky strike in before she put him down.
Finn and Galen finally fought their way to the front just in time to have Willy crow about her being the winner.
“Come back next week to see her against a real fighter,” the little peacock called. “Someone trained by Gentleman Jackson himself.”
“No!” Galen protested.
The smarmy little worm had the arrogance to gloat. “You've no say over it, Mornay.”
Galen considered wiping that smirk off the toad's face with a show of his own violence. But what was more important right now was Miss O'Malley. Further, how Finn was fussing over her. She seemed resistant to his friend's ministrations until Galen approached, then she shrank into Finn's shadow. Dammit, but he only had himself to blame for that. And Finn, damn his eyes, noticed her reaction. Bloody hell, Galen thought, he might as well have stayed in Winchester.
Since the paragon didn't want his attentions, he turned back to Willy Cage.
“What are you thinking, this idea of bringing one of Jackson's fighters here?”
“I'm thinking Miss O'Malley had best earn her keep.”
“Certainly bringing in a fighter like that who can hurt the girls will cause problems for the other side of your business.”
“My only contract with Miss O'Malley is for fighting. A broken nose ain't gonna ruin her for it.” He cackled. “Ain't gonna ruin her for the other, neither! That girl's a looker no matter what you do.”
Rather than punch the man, Galen walked away.
* * * *
Maeve finally escaped Lord Cole's ministrations and fled to her room. Her heart was still racing, her breathing harsh and uneven. When she looked at her bloody, bruised hands they were shaking. This was to be her future? Would Willy have her face ever larger and more experienced opponents until she was broken? She would live her father's story over. In his prime, Mick O'Malley had been unstoppable. Now there was hardly a bone in his body that didn't ache. He'd not complain of it, not ever, but she and her mother knew. He'd worked as long as he'd been able, but now his broken body couldn't even make it to the church or the public house, much less put in a day's work. Everything had fallen to the children to do. As the oldest, Maeve had struck out looking for work. Now here she was, aimed toward the same life her father had led. But without children to sustain her when her injuries overtook her. If she were lucky, she might be able to rely on one of her siblings to care for her in her old age. If they were able. If she were still capable of making the journey home.
Perhaps Bridget had the right of it. Wouldn't being kept by a rich man be better than the life she saw unfolding before her? Certainly she would have some pence to send to her family from time to time. The girls said that rich men gave expensive gifts like jewelry that could be saved as succor in an uncertain future. If she could not have a virtuous life, then what good was her virtue in the face of possible starvation for herself or, worse yet, her family?
If she were to be a kept lady, then she knew there would be far worse protectors than Lord Cole. He had always been charming and polite. Tonight he had checked over her wounds while his friend yelled at Willy Cage. But she had thought his friend, Lord Mornay, to be at least passably charming himself until he grabbed her this evening. Was that just the way of most men? Thinking they could take what they wanted? Some of the girls complained about how rough and aggressive the men could be. It wasn't something that Maeve had seen as a child. Yes, her father had been a fighter, but he'd never raised so much as his voice to his wife, much less his hand. Theirs had been a home of relative peace.
If she continued on the path she now trod she would find herself broken and unable to work, but to accept a lover would be a betrayal of all she held sacred. Certainly if the Lord meant for her to choose between the destruction of her body or spirit, He would want her to choose losses of a physical nature. Jesus was crucified, but his treasure lay in the Kingdom of Heaven.
Was this yet another test of her spiritual fortitude? Was she being weak by considering the advantages of allowing a rich man to use her outside of marriage?
Further, what would she do when such a man set her aside, as obviously he would? Could she possibly save enough money before that to return to Ireland and survive? Help her family to survive?
Not sure what else to do, she bent her knees to pray.
THE ENCHANTED CAVE
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Galen was even less sure what to do. The Mad Clan had never been in a mess such as this, where the attempts to solve the problem only seemed to make it worse. Was Finn more or less enamored of Miss O'Malley now than he had been before? Last night there had seemed to be a note of awe in the man's voice over her fighting prowess. What sort of man admired a woman for her capacity to fight?
But the question wasn't whether it made sense to Galen, it was whether it mattered to Finn. Certainly that wasn't the sort of thing the man was looking for in a wife. Perhaps in a lover, odd as it might sound to Galen himself, but Finn said he didn't think Miss O'Malley would change her mind about such a thing. S'blood, but Galen had a bruise on his arm today to prove that she had no patience for tomfoolery.
Throughout the early morning he wrestled over the question if it was even worth remaining involved in what the Mad Clan was up to at the Enchanted Cave. Perhaps they had lingered so long because they were now older and more stable, less likely to rove Town looking for trouble. And it seemed like the Cave had enough trouble to keep them all entertained.
As much as he counseled himself that his best course of action was to give up on his campaign of interceding for his friends, his curiosity got the best of him. As everything seemed to hinge on Miss O'Malley, he lingered just up the street from the Cave to intercept her as she returned from church.
She stopped warily when she saw him and he bowed to her.
“Miss O'Malley, I hoped to apologize for last evening.”
He saw a number of emotions flicker through her gaze but all she said was, “Very well, then.”
Unsure if that meant she accepted his apology or gave him permission to apologize, he continued. “It was brutish behavior on my part and it was horrid of me to assume you might like it.”
“No woman would like such treatment.”
He decided to hold his tongue over the differences in the women they knew. “It's a lovely day, would you care for a stroll?”
She took a step back and he could see the refusal on her lips. But then she thought for a moment and acquiesced with a nod. “Yes, please. I have some questions for you.”
As she seemed disinclined to touc
h him, he didn't offer his arm and just fell into step beside her. “Of course. How may I be of assistance to you?”
“I wondered.” She trailed off, then took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I wondered, since you spoke of wanting a mistress, if you could tell me what such a position entailed.”
Galen wasn't sure if Finn's little mud flower could have come up with a more surprising topic. However, her curiosity bolstered Finn's assertion that she was innocent. Pure, he'd said. “I can,” he said cautiously. “If you really want to know.”
He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a more reluctant nod. But it was, indeed, a nod. Then she raised her chin as though bracing herself for what was to come. Willy Cage had said she was a looker, and she was that, but her reaction to the idea of being a mistress definitely didn't make seduction come to mind.
* * * *
Maeve steeled herself to hear what Lord Mornay had to say. She didn't have to choose this path. This was only to ensure she was informed of her options.
Her companion held his hands behind his back and looked deep in thought for the moment. When he finally spoke his tone was more somber than she expected. No attempt at charm or teasing at her subject. “I suppose that what you are most interested in are the job duties, as it were, and the benefits or remuneration. First, the smart thing to do is to spell all of it out in a contract. Then there can be no confusion over what is expected or owed.”
She realized that she had expected to be horrified by hearing something lascivious, but it was perhaps even more horrifying to hear a discussion of rights to one's body being the subject of a cold and detached contract.
Lord Mornay continued. “Were I in your position, my goal would be to have a contract that provided a house and an allowance. At least a thousand pounds per year.”
Once Upon A Regency: Timeless Tales And Fables Page 68
