My Brown-Eyed Earl by Anna Bennett Page A

blocks. Damned difficult, since Alec had the highly annoying habit of initiating conversation while they sparred.
    â€œI saw Marina at the opera last night,” he gasped.
    Will dodged a punch intended for his jaw. “That’s nice.” It had only been a week since Will had broken things off with his mistress but seemed more like a year.
    â€œShe asked about you.” Alec swiped a forearm across his brow. “Said she misses you. I’d wager she’s willing to take you back.”
    Will deflected a blow with his left glove and landed a punch to Alec’s abdomen with his right. “Lucky me.”
    Alec grunted and stumbled back a few steps before sticking out his chest and clapping his gloves together. “You could go back to your old arrangement. I thought you’d want to know.”
    â€œDon’t care.” A week ago, Will might have. But seven days without Marina had made him realize that he was better off without her—and there was no doubt that she was better off without him.
    â€œWell, well, well,” Alec drawled, “isn’t that interesting?” He wore a grin that begged Will to knock his teeth out. “One of the most beautiful women in London invites you into her bed”—he feinted to his left, just out of Will’s reach—“and you don’t care ?”
    â€œNone of your concern.” Will wiped a trickle of sweat from his temple with his forearm and shot his friend a warning look.
    â€œWould this sudden disinterest in your former mistress—by all accounts a skilled seductress—have anything to do with your new governess?”
    A lightning quick burst of power surged through Will’s arm as he swung and connected with Alec’s cheek. He felt the satisfying smack of leather against skin, and—
    Bam.
    Alec hit the ground like a felled tree.
    Shit. Will dropped to his knees beside his friend, who was out cold. “Somebody bring water,” he yelled to the half dozen men who’d been watching, “and smelling salts.” Then to Alec, “Can you hear me? Say something, you blazing idiot.”
    Alec groaned, pushed away the salts being waved under his nose, and blinked. “Jesus, Will. You almost took off my head.”
    Relief flooded his veins as he helped Alec to his feet. “I should have. Next time, don’t ask so many damned questions. We’re in a boxing club, not a bloody ballroom.”
    Alec rubbed his face and winced. “Thanks for clarifying.”
    â€œYou know, you might be a decent fighter if you could manage to keep your mouth shut.”
    Alec tugged off a glove, sipped from a ladle of water, and poured the rest over his head. “But then I’d never know what was going on in that mind of yours.”
    Will snorted. “Careful what you wish for.”
    They moved to the side of the room, where Alec slung a towel around his neck. “I struck a nerve when I mentioned Miss Lacey. Or is it Meg now?”
    Will gave his shoulder a shove, backed him against the wall, and glared. “Tread lightly, Torrington. Tread very, very lightly.”
    Alec raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. But I happen to have some experience in this area—navigating a relationship with one’s governess. You know where to find me if you want my advice.”
    Will blinked then laughed out loud. “The day I seek relationship advice from you, my friend, will be a cold, cold day in hell.”
    Alec started to laugh, too, but quickly stopped and cupped his cheek. “Damn, that hurts.”
    â€œI’ll buy you dinner at the club later— if you vow not to speak of governesses.”
    â€œFine,” Alec said sullenly.
    But as Will toweled off and dressed, he was thinking of Meg. Of how she’d responded when he’d kissed her and how he’d looked for her around every corner for the past two days. She seemed to spend all her time teaching the