“A rather one-sided match it would seem.”
“Not unlike this.” Jane grinned and lunged at him. The tip of the foil went wide, missing the Duke by a hair’s breadth.
“I am a point ahead of you,” the Duke pointed out, panting slightly.
Sweat trickled down his face. His cheeks were flushed, and his blue eyes seemed to sparkle in the daylight. Jane was sure her own face was red with exertion. She too was panting.
Curse corsets for being so hard to exercise in.
“Yes, but I am only a point away from winning.” The Duke lunged at Jane, but she parried his blow.
“Not for long.” Jane grinned, moving quickly, and her foil found the Duke’s stomach. “It would seem we are even.”
“So it would seem. The next point will decide it all.”
Jane stepped away from him, preparing to start for the final time. “Are you ready?”
“Always.”
“En garde.” Her foil darted towards him, fast and hard.
He moved, avoiding it, but only just. But she twirled to close the distance between them. He had the advantage of size, but she had speed.
Her foil darted forward again. Metal clashed against metal. She heard Emily and the Marquess both shout her name, egging her on. She grinned at the Duke.
“It seems the audience is on my side.” Jane parried one of the Duke’s blows, forcing him to dance out of the way.
“Of course they are. Who wouldn’t be?” The Duke brought his foil towards her, and she swiped it away with her own.
“Do not try and distract me with flattery—it will not work.” Jane advanced on the Duke, her heart racing.
“It was not flattery.” The Duke smiled as they began to circle one another.
“Of course, it wasn’t.” Jane rolled her eyes.
The Duke lunged at her, and she sidestepped. Her foot caught on the fabric of her dress. She stumbled, only just managing to parry his blow. She tried to find her feet, but his blows were coming in too fast, and her dress was proving to be incredibly difficult.
She lunged at him in her desperation, but he moved away easily. A moment later, his foil gently touched her stomach. Their eyes met. She was panting just as hard as he was.
“I believe I am the winner.”
Both of them were sweating profusely, but each had a grin on their face. Jane held out her hand for the Duke to shake. He moved towards her, and at the last moment, she withdrew her hand, jabbed him lightly in the stomach with her foil, and laughed.
“And that, Duke, is your final lesson—never let down your guard.” She bowed to him and then ran back to the castle, laughing in a way she hadn’t in years.
Behind her, she heard the Duke’s laughter, and his words that had haunted her suddenly seemed to be something else entirely.
“Prove it.”
It was an invitation. And Jane found herself inclined to accept.
ChapterEight
Chance Encounters
“Sorry, Mister.” Something collided with Blake.
He glanced down and found himself staring at a young, rather grubby boy who was sprawled on the grass. The boy had fallen when he had slammed into Blake’s legs, and he seemed rather stunned. By Blake’s estimation, the child could not have been more than seven.
