The Misplaced Prince[COMPLETE]

Finally A Challenge

"Damn it, Dashwood—you're a beast!"

Joshua straightened, straightening his barely wrinkled clothes, and grinning at the man glaring at him from the floor through a profusely bleeding nose. He reached forward to offer his hand to his opponent, and after a pause of uncertainty, the man growled before grabbing his hand. Joshua hauled him up with ease, and the Marquess of Trent dusted himself off.

"Social suicide getting into the ring with you." the marquess wondered, "That took, what, five minutes?"

Joshua rubbed his slightly bruised knuckles, deciding it would be immodest to correct the man that it had taken four. "Next," he drawled, and the next opponent strode up into the ring, eyeing Joshua wearily. He was much taller and bulkier than Joshua, which was saying something with Joshua's six foot six frame, and yet when Joshua cracked his knuckles, the man flinched.

Joshua paused, "You're certain you want to do this?"

"Yes, damn it. I'll be the one to beat your record!"

Joshua crooked his brow, "You're on." he said mildly in his well cultured tones.

And the fight was on. Joshua, who had learned the merit of fighting dirty from a young age after his brother had left him in a dank alley as a joke, found it almost tedious the ease with which he bought the towering man to his knees with a few well places punches. He had always moved fast, despite his size, and he was able to dodge the incoming blows with slick ease before landing a few gut crushing ones of his own.

The man collapsed to the ground, and Joshua placed a firm arm against his neck long enough to be declared a winner, before straightening with a sigh.

God, he needed a challenge.

The next man came up to the ring, and Joshua went through the same motions. And then the next. And then...

He saw her.

He shouldn't have seen her. This was no place for a woman. And yet, as he landed a pounding blow on his opponents jaw, his gaze suddenly caught on a flash of the most vivid red hair, and his whole focus shifted in a moment of jarring clarity. He blocked his opponents punch almost as an afterthought before glancing back towards the sea of men watching them, his eyes searching.

That red hair could only belong to one person. But it couldn't be—

A punch landed in his gut, knocking out his breath, and he returned it with another almost thoughtless jab before looking at the crowd again.

His gaze found a thin, boyish figure walking amongst the crowd, wearing too large clothes and a jaunty hat, and his insides vibrated with an almost visceral recognition. That thin, feminine frame had to be her, with that distinctive hair peeking from beneath the hat—if only she would turn her face—

And almost as if sensing his gaze, she did, turning her sharp little profile to look at him, her yellowish green eyes almost glowing across the room, and he felt the breath leave his body in shock. She was disguised—poorly, if he could recognize her from this far—as a boy, standing in the middle of a gentleman's ring proud as you please, watching him pummel his opponents without batting a lash, and—

A punch against his jaw suddenly blinded him, sending him spinning to the ground, and the crowd roared with excitement. It wasn't often Joshua Dashwood was brought down in the ring, so the noise was deafening.

He spit out blood, annoyed, and lumbered up on his feet. He glanced at the crowd again, but the ethereal little witch had disappeared, and then he turned back to the man, dispatching him impatiently with a few, messy jabs.

Joshua shook his head at the next man pulling himself up in the ring and grabbed a towel, jumping over the ring and stalking into the crowd.

His heart thundered more than it had in the past hour of winning again and again, and blood roared in his ears.

"Don't even think you can hide, m'dear." he murmured, a sly smile edging up his lips, "I'm going to find you."