“If you did, then the foil should be around here.” He started to search the ground, but she stopped him.
“Let me think. I lost the fencing match and put the foil…” She winced, trying to slog through her confused memories. It was like walking in the mud. Finally, a glimmer of light shone through the darkness. “Over there! In the rose bush.”
Alexander shoved the branches aside, and there it was. His foil was stuck in a crack in the low brick wall closing the flowerbeds, as a sort of Excalibur. He pulled it out and admired it. The blade, covered in mud and twigs, sparkled in the moonlight.
He put the blade down and lifted her by the waist. “You’re wonderful.”
“Hardly. I started the problem.”
“But you found my foil.” He kissed her hard. “Marry me and bring all your happiness into my life.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Alex, I accept your proposal.”
Fourteen
Esther couldn’t sit still on her seat in the town hall.
Alexander was warming up, throwing shadow thrusts with his foil. She didn’t understand much about fencing or swords, but the foil was a piece of art. The guard had the carved pattern of a bunch of roses, and the blade shone with a silver gleam every time he moved it.
He paused to wave at her, and she waved back.
Mother, sitting next to her, poked her with an elbow. “The duke looks smitten with you.”
“As I am with him.”
As the defending champion, he would fence only against the fencer who qualified for the final.
Alexander’s rival was none other than Lord Warwick, whose sour expression ruined the festive atmosphere.
The official raised an arm. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final of the National Fencing Championship. Alexander the Great”—the crowd cheered—“will duel with twice county champion, Lord Benedict, Viscount of Warwick.”
Esther tapped her heels on the floorboards as the two fencers faced each other. The official stepped back, and they began fencing, and she didn’t understand anything of what was going on. There was a lot of thrusting, sword crossing, and yelling, but she had no idea who was winning.
When the official shouted, she cheered.
“What are you doing?” Mother said.
“Alexander scored.”
“No, darling. Lord Warwick touched the duke with the tip of his foil when he performed an Italian lunge.” She put her lorgnette on her nose.
Esther angled towards her mother. “Since when do you understand fencing?”
“Since I started practising when I was fourteen.” Mother’s voice lowered as she blushed. “Then my father ordered me to stop because he said fencing wasn’t for ladies, and I’ve missed it terribly since then.”
She held Mother’s hand. “You never told me.”
“I wanted to give you a good example, but then you started playing cricket, and I couldn’t forbid you to practise something you loved, and I was proud of you. Despite your father grumbling, you kept playing. I wish I had your strength when I was young.”
“I had no idea.”
The official shouted again.
“What happened?” she asked.
“The duke scored. The next round is decisive.” Mother patted her cheek. “I was strict with you, but I’m glad you had the courage to keep doing what you wanted.”
Not really. She hadn’t truly been herself, not as she was with Alexander. “Why don’t you start fencing again?”
