Читать книгу Once Dishonored - Mary Jo Putney - Страница 15

CHAPTER 9

“You’ve a talent for this, Miss Douglas,” Henry Angelo said approvingly as he blocked a thrust from Kendra’s small sword.

“You flatter me, Signor Angelo,” she said, smiling back. “But I do remember how much I enjoyed the lessons I had from my cousin, and how good it feels to exert myself physically.”

Angelo moved in with a teasing series of thrusts. “Your divided skirt works well for this exercise. Some of my regular ladies wear pantaloons and find them very good for fencing.”

“Pantaloons?” Kendra rather clumsily warded off her teacher. The idea of wearing male clothing was startling, but she could see the advantages. “I would like to meet some of your regular ladies.”

“There are usually several here on Wednesday mornings and . . .” Angelo stopped, frowning as he listened to raised voices from the main salon. “If you’ll excuse me, it sounds as if someone’s enthusiasm has gotten out of hand.”

Kendra followed him out of the small teaching room, then caught her breath in shock as she saw Lucas engaged in fierce, metal-shrieking combat with a burly man who had murder in his eyes. And their sabers had bare, lethal points.

The other patrons of the academy had gathered around to watch, some visibly uneasy about the fight, others ghoulishly excited. Angelo hesitated, perhaps considering the safest way to end the out-of-control duel.

Kendra gasped when the burly man slashed Lucas’s shoulder and spurting blood saturated the white linen of his shirt. She instinctively darted forward, but was stopped when a hard hand clamped onto her upper arm. Simon.

“Don’t distract him,” Simon said in a tight voice. “That could be lethal. Lucas is a first-class fencer and he’s trying to end this without anyone getting killed.”

“Someone needs to end this!” she retorted as she tried to yank her arm free. Maybe a woman trying to intervene would cause both men to back off? Or maybe she’d be cut to ribbons, but she could not stand idly by.

Simon wouldn’t release her, and in the next moments, Lucas did end it. With a movement too swift for Kendra’s eyes to follow, he knocked his opponent’s saber down and to one side while surging forward himself, reversing the saber and smashing the pommel of the weapon into his opponent’s jaw with an audible crack. The man pitched backward, dropping his saber as he lost consciousness.

Lucas swept his gaze around the circle of men, his aquamarine eyes blazing. “By the rules of duello, the matter has been settled in front of witnesses. Presumably my victory over this Patrick person proves right was on my side. Does anyone else want to try to kill me without knowing the facts of the situation?”

“I want to!” The ragged voice came from a black-garbed man seated in a chair by the wall, his thin hands clutching a pair of crutches. “And I do know the facts!”

“I doubt it.” Lucas’s voice softened. “If you want to explain why you want me dead, I’ll be happy to discuss the matter with you.”

The man in black spat at him, but was too far away to hit his target. Lucas shrugged. “I can’t refute charges that haven’t been made, Godfrey. Feel free to summon me if you want an honest talk. If not, you can damned well leave me alone!”

Released by Simon, Kendra slipped through the group of onlookers. “I want to take a look at that shoulder wound, Lucas.”

“It stings. Not serious.”

“Nonetheless.”

She’d almost reached him when one of the onlookers said under his breath, “Denshire’s whore! A good match for a cowardly oath breaker.”

Kendra had pretended not to hear such comments in the past, but not this time. She spun on her heel. “Mine is another case in which you don’t know the facts, sir!”

“No?” he said with a leer.

Kendra’s hands tensed and she realized that she was still carrying the small sword she’d been practicing with. She swung it upward and brought the point to rest in the middle of the oaf’s chest.

He gasped and tried to retreat, but his escape was blocked by other men. “When a dishonorable man wants to rid himself of a wife while stealing her inheritance, what better way to do it than by slandering her good name, hmmm?” she asked sweetly. “Don’t you agree?”

“I . . . I suppose so,” he stammered, his gaze locked on the small sword resting above his heart. Though the tip had a safety button on, it would be easy for Kendra to pull it off and do serious damage.

“Think about it then.” She pressed the sword just hard enough for him to feel the pressure through his shirt, then lowered the weapon and turned her back on him.

The crowd melted away, leaving Kendra and her two friends. Simon had taken off his cravat and was efficiently bandaging the wound in his cousin’s shoulder.

A man helped a groaning Patrick from the floor and led him to a seat by Godfrey. Looking up, he saw Simon and stiffened. “Colonel Duval! You’re a hero of Waterloo! Why are you supporting this . . . this oath breaker?”

“I have known Lucas Mandeville my whole life,” Simon replied in a voice that could freeze a regiment in its tracks. “I have known no man more honorable. I have personal knowledge; you have only hearsay. Consider your sources, sir!”

The man flushed a deep red and didn’t reply.

The conversation was broken when Henry Angelo approached. “Miss Douglas, Colonel Duval, Lord Foxton, will you join me in my office?”

They all nodded and followed Angelo into his office, which was behind the main hall. Lucas said, “I’m sorry for being the cause of trouble, Signor Angelo. I won’t come here again.”

“You were not the cause of the trouble,” Angelo growled as he pulled a bag packed with bandages, salves, and other medical items from a large drawer at the bottom of his desk. “That slice on your shoulder needs attention.”

Lucas looked uncomfortable, but relaxed when Simon said, “I’ll take care of this. I’ve done my share of dressing wounds in the field.”

Angelo poured water into a basin and set it beside the medical supplies. As Simon removed the bloody cravat and washed the wound clean, Lucas asked, “Do you have any idea why that fellow Godfrey is hell-bent on seeing me punished for crimes unknown?”

Angelo frowned. “Godfrey Rogers. He’s the youngest of a pack of brothers, and they’re all very protective of him. Patrick, the one who attacked you, is the oldest, a former cavalry officer. Godfrey was a midshipman in the Royal Navy, captured and imprisoned by the French. He was seriously injured in a fall while trying to escape, I believe, and returned home crippled.”

“I don’t remember meeting him, but he might have seen me in one of the French prisons.” Lucas sucked in his breath as Simon cleaned the wound with stinging gin. “I don’t know how that translates into my being responsible for his crippled state, but there must be a connection in his mind. I wish I could talk to him without being skewered by one of his brothers.”

“If the Rogers brothers can’t control themselves, they’re not welcome here,” Angelo said firmly. “I shall talk to them, and I hope to see all of you in the future.”

Simon applied a fresh bandage to the wound, then helped Lucas into his coat. With the bloodstains covered, he looked normal enough.

Kendra collected her shredded nerves and said, “Wednesday morning, Signor Angelo. I look forward to meeting more of your fencing ladies.”

As the three of them left the academy, Simon said, “Will you join us for lunch, Kendra? This morning I sent a message to Lord Kirkland, saying we wished to talk to him. With luck, he’ll be available soon.”

“Yes, thank you. I’d like that.” Kendra climbed into the carriage, thinking that after months of paralysis, events were beginning to move. Almost too fast for her.