***

“Nick, you are not attending me. What is it you are finding so fascinating outside the window? Come, my boy, another hour and we shall take a stroll in the park and look at the flora and fauna.”

Nick sighed and, patting Piddle’s head, turned back to look at the book in front of him.

“Now as you can see, an equilateral triangle is one in which the length of all sides are equal. I shall draw one here for you, and assign a numerical value to one side. If we know the length of this side, what does it tell us about the lengths of the other two sides?”

Nick frowned at the triangle and muttered an expletive he’d heard his father use. Rogerson dropped the slate and stared.

***

“Where are you off to then, Crouch?”

“’Er ladyship’s off on one of ’er wild ’ares. She wants me to employ a couple of Runners for ’is nibs’s protection.”

“Does she really, now?” Devereaux rubbed his chin. “That’s most interesting. Does she know about his lordship’s newest footmen?” He nodded toward one of the Runners, currently engaged in chatting up one of the under parlormaids.

“No, I didn’t tell ’er. I figure if ’is lordship wants ’er to know about them, ’e’ll tell ’er.”

“You’re not actually going to go along with this wild scheme of hers, are you?”

“Aye,” Crouch said, slapping a powdered wig onto his head, adjusting it so it sat at a rakish, dashing angle. “I’m thinkin’ it might not be a bad idea for ’is lordship to ’ave a bit of comp’ny when ’e’s out and about.”

“But, but—” the round little man sputtered. Crouch gave him a cheeky grin, saluted him with his hook, and sauntered down the back steps toward the mews.

***

“My lord, if you would allow me to call for my physician…”

“No need, Jackson. The swelling will go down in time. I believe your man set the bone correctly.”

John “Gentleman” Jackson, that renowned pugilist and famed instructor of the science of boxing to half the men in the ton, the man who won the championship when he beat the infamous Mendoza senseless, watched with worried eyes as the Black Earl tipped his head back to allow his neck cloth to be tied.

“I’d never have suggested you go against young MacDonald, my lord, if I’d thought he would give you a pasting.”

Weston flinched, but Jackson wasn’t sure if it was due to the injury or the reference to having been bested in the ring by a much younger, and less skilled, man. “You’d best put something cold on that until the swelling goes down.”

Lord Weston nodded stiffly, muttered something, and left the establishment. Jackson sighed with relief as the earl departed.

“Did you ever think you’d see the day?” his man asked, peering out the window to watch Weston get into his carriage. Jackson shook his head. He never wanted to see such a day again.