Marry Me by Heidi Wessman Kneale Read Free Book Online

care. A plan formed in her head. It was bold, nay, it was shocking. Possibly the most shocking thing a young lady could do. By gum, if she was to end up on the shelf, as her mother feared, it would not be for lack of effort.
    ****
    Raymond had to go to the club. Mary invited him to dinner, but he had too much to get out of his system. Let Thomas enjoy his well-deserved wins without his uncle’s gloom dampening spirits.
    He was spoiling for a fight.
    Raymond’s club catered to all kinds of diversions for his alma mater’s alumni. A well-stocked library occupied the top floor. Social rooms and two dining clubs—casual and fancy—were always popular at this time of day. Even hotel rooms, should one wish to stay the night.
    But what he wanted most was in the basement.
    As he descended the steps, the spicy pungency of sweat greeted him. Down here, among the cement and pipes, single shaded bulbs illuminated spots on the floor. In one corner a few fellows lifted free weights and in another several skipped ropes.
    That was all well and good for keeping in shape, but Raymond wanted to punch something.
    There it was, the boxing ring, raised off the floor and encased by rope. Two men dressed in athletic gear circled each other taking experimental jabs. Another man, Jake Smith, lounged on the ropes, watching them with lazy interest.
    After a quick change in the dressing room, Raymond emerged to find his old school chum, Jeremy Quick. He was a large lad, but once you got him in the ring, he lived up to his name. Also, he sported a powerful right hook, as Raymond’s jaw could testify.
    He was perfect. “G-go a few rounds?”
    Quick grinned. His nose had been broken once and never set straight. “What? With a little shrimp like you?” He straightened and rewrapped his fists before pounding them together.
    After wrapping his own wrists, Raymond shoved his hands into boxing gloves.
    Oh, this was going to feel good.
    He and Quick climbed into the vacated ring. Smith, still leaning on the ropes offered to referee.
    “Just in case,” he said.
    While Raymond wished he could go freestyle, that was not the gentleman’s way. A bitterness of guilt sat in his throat. This was Quick, not Elliott, he boxed. They were fellows and should treat each other with respect. He bumped gloves with his worthy opponent.
    Smith rang the bell. Immediately Quick feinted a left hook then followed with a right. Raymond saw it coming and dodged. He followed up with a one-two-three combination, making light contact.
    The whole afternoon Raymond had watched Elliott squire Miss Moore about the park. Should he have been relieved the peacock didn’t bother to bill and coo? Or should he have felt angry on her behalf?
    Quick landed a tap on Raymond’s chin, bringing him back to the here and now. Raymond retaliated, perhaps a little harder than warranted.
    “Whoa,” Quick cried. “Something on your mind, chum?”
    Raymond exhaled. “M-man s-s-s—tealing m-my girl.”
    His friend bounced lightly on his toes. “Didn’t know you had one.”
    Well, maybe not yet, but after today’s conversation with the sweet Miss Moore, Raymond had every reason to believe his suit would be accepted. Tomorrow he would march over to the Moore residence and declare himself openly.
    Elliott might be a cad, but he, Raymond, would play fairly.
    He took a few swings at Quick, mostly to suss out his friend’s reactions.
    Quick retaliated with a few short jabs, ducked, and delivered a blow to Raymond’s breadbasket. “Who’s the blighter?”
    That last hit knocked Raymond’s breath out. “Ell-lliot.”
    “What? Guy Elliott? That toad?”
    Raymond nodded.
    Jab-jab-jab, hook.
    Quick blocked effectively. “He’s not a Harvard man, is he?”
    Raymond shook his head. He launched into Quick with a quick combination, only one of which landed its mark. Quick riposted and Raymond had to duck. Sweat dampened his brow.
    “Yale?” He blocked Raymond’s return delivery.
    Again,