Forever a Lord
“Egan, Boxiana (1823) Later that nightThe Weston House “WHAT THE DEVIL were you thinking?” her brother roared through the flapping towel still hanging over his head, which covered not only his face but the expanse of his robed shoulders. He swung a rigid fist down against the bed he was confined to. “Aside from your ailing health, have you no goddamn respect for your reputation?”
Awkwardly lingering beside the bed, Imogene eventually offered, “’Tis very difficult for me to take you seriously when all I see is a flapping towel. I suggest you take it off.”
“I am not letting you see my face. And you are not changing the subject. Respectable women don’t associate with nameless men, much less boxers. Whether you are investing money in him or not!”
She sat on the edge of his bed, trying to pretend she was more occupied with arranging her gown than listening to him. “If it makes you feel any better, he isn’t all that nameless.
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