She forced herself not to shift away.
“Is everyone present?” he asked.
“Seven of us,” she said evenly. “Yes.”
“Then, ladies. Please, might I have your attention?”
The room quieted.
Gideon was good at that. Annoyingly good. He did not raise his voice. He simply occupied the space with the authority he’d been born with.
“Thank you for coming,” he said. “I know this is not the usual manner in which ladies are encouraged to spend an afternoon. That is rather the point.”
A few smiles flickered.
“I should like to begin without delay. Lord Longstaffe and I will keep the instruction simple and repeatable. Nothing too strenuous. Nothing dependent upon brute strength. You are not here to learn how to win a fight. You are here to learn how to create the moment in which you may escape.”
The room seemed to still at that.
“With luck,” he continued, “none of you will ever have cause to use what we teach you. But luck is an unreliable safeguard, and preparedness is infinitely preferable.”
A few of the ladies exchanged glances.
Beatrice watched their faces. Doubt. Curiosity. Nervousness.
She knew the feeling.
“You have all been taught how to be agreeable,” he said, reminding her of her conversation with Persephone earlier. “Those lessons have their place. But today, we begin with something rather more useful.”
Lark’s mouth curved.
Persephone murmured, “At last.”
Gideon brushed his hands together. “A demonstration, I think, will be more useful than another speech. Lord Longstaffe will assist me in proving that a man’s size need not give him the advantage.”
It was not that Gideon was small. Far from it. He was tall enough, broad enough, and composed in a way that made him seem larger than he was.
But Lord Longstaffe was larger still.
Half a head taller, broader through the shoulders, and altogether too convincing as an example of the sort of man most ladies would never think to challenge.
“I don’t recall you mentioning this would involve public humiliation,” Longstaffe said mildly.
Gideon glanced at him. “I thought that was understood.”
Longstaffe chuckled and then gave the ladies a grave bow. “Then I shall endeavor to be humiliated elegantly.”
That earned the first true ripple of laughter.
Then Longstaffe lunged.
Several ladies gasped.
Gideon moved—not away, but through. A turn, a shift, one foot stepping forward into Longstaffe’s space, and in the next instant, the viscount landed flat on his back upon the mattress.
The thud was impressive, causing an almost shocked silence.
Then Persephone laughed.
