“Then there’s only one thing to do. How ‘bout a bit of sport?”
Darcy was listening. Until Alex wink-winked at him, just as she had before she had him thrown over the side of her ship.
CHAPTER 15
Darcy’s blood froze in his veins. Whatever scheme Alex devised boded ill for him. They always did.
Plopping her hands on her hips, raising her chin and her voice, Alex said, “I challenge ye to a sword fight. First to draw blood—”
He cast her a look.
She raised her fingers, pinching them. “Just a little nick, a bit of pink—”
Darcy stopped her there. “No blood.” He would insist on some degree of propriety while she did not hesitate to put his life in peril. The irony was not lost on him.
She pouted. “That’s no fun.”
“I will not fight a woman.”
“I’ve been fightin’ men me whole life. I’m just as capable than ye.”
“I do not doubt you are more capable than I am.”
“Then why won’t ye fight? I’m not goin’ to kill ye.” She motioned to Elizabeth, who still stood between them. “Not with her here. Although ye’re blasted stubborn enough to tempt me. Ye know, I ought to have me men string ye up by yer thumbs—see how bullheaded ye be then.” She looked behind her, shouting, “Jaffa, get—”
“The first to disarm the other,” Elizabeth raised her hands, pushing Darcy away, her fingers splaying over his chest. Her touch sent a jolt through him that was capable of convincing him of anything. Such fine bones and narrow fingers, and yet, so powerful. One touch, and he was under her spell. Their eyes met, and Darcy mourned when she moved her hand.
Looking pointedly away from him, Elizabeth addressed Alex. “The first to deprive the other of their weapon, you understand? There will be no cutting off of limbs or stringing up by thumbs.”
“I know what disarmin’ means,” Alex grumbled. “So blasted honorable. Must run in yer blood…”
Her sentence trailed off, and Darcy knew she was thinking about her Nick—the man for whom she had mistaken him. Darcy was curious to learn more about Nick. Perhaps they were related somehow.
With a blink, her eyes focused and sharpened. “If I win, Elizabeth stays, and ye stop schemin’ yer escape. If ye win, I’ll have me two best oarsmen see her safely to shore with enough blunt to send a message to herfamily and pay for a room at a decent inn until they can fetch her. Ye’ll stay for the remainder of the time we shook on. I need lady lessons.”
Darcy considered. He had seen Alex’s skill with a knife. She would be a formidable opponent. It would be dangerous for him to underestimate her, but he was not without skill. He had trained with the masters—had bested many of them.
Therein, however, lay her advantage. He was accustomed to level floors and spacious arenas in clubs that enforced certain rules. He needed to even out his deficiency. “Proper fencing rules. No kicking, hitting, or attacks outside the boundaries accepted by any fencing club. I take it you are familiar—”
She twisted her mouth. “Of course I know the rules. I’m not a complete savage, ye know.” She fiddled with the top of the shiv hidden in her boot. “Very well, I accept. Let the game begin.”
Elizabeth stumbled forward. “Mr. Darcy, you do not have to do this! I know what I said, but what about your freedom?” Darcy and Jaffa reached out to steady her.
Darcy softened his harsh focus, trying to reassure her with a smile that felt pinched. “I have to try. I know how much you prize your freedom.” His smile relaxed, feeling more genuine.
“But I do not want it at the price of yours.”
Her tender words caressed Darcy.She cared for him, perhaps not as much as he loved her, but it was more than he had dared to hope for.
Alex stepped toward the door, ruining the touching moment, but Darcy blocked her path. Holding out his palm, he said, “Your knives, please.”
With a huff, she removed the knife from her boot, the other strapped to her side, and another one Darcy had not noticed in her hair. These, she handed, with a pointed look at Darcy, to Jaffa.
Jaffa nodded, doing his best not to smile.
She breezed past him, and Darcy followed past the aftercastle and down the stairs to the main deck where Jaffa handed her two sabers.
Elizabeth gripped the railing on the deck above them, her emotions playing out in her eyes. She was worried about him. Darcy supposed she would be distressed for any man in his position, but he gloried in her concern all the same.
