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She shook out her arm. “It’s fine. Anyway, I’m terribly rusty, so it’s good to keep me on my toes.”
“The doctor won’t be happy if I give ye a bruise, though. He’ll give me a right dressin’ down.”
“He’ll do no such thing, and you know it. And you should call me Mrs. Kendrick, not my lady. I don’t want Dr. Kendrick to feel like he’s playing second fiddle to me.”
Or to Roger.
Donny shrugged. “He’s nae fashed about it. He said I should call ye whatever I liked.”
Samantha couldn’t hold back a smile. “He’s a very nice man, isn’t he?”
“Aye, he’s a good one.” Donny wistfully sighed. “The master would have approved of him.”
Samantha mentally grimaced. As well as Braden had adapted to their household, it was still a difficult change for the staff, especially for Donny, who had cared for Roger since he was a little boy. Having a new master took some getting used to.
It was true that Braden didn’t seem fashed about any of the living arrangements, including the fact that he was essentially banished to the spare bedroom. He was so accommodating, and so willing to stay out of everyone’s way, that Samantha was beginning to feel guilty. For a man supposedly in love with her, he had the patience of Job. Except for a goodnight peck on her cheek, he’d not made one move in the direction of sexual intimacy.
And that, she had to admit, was beginning to annoy her.
“Shall we go again, my lady? Er, Mrs. Kendrick?” Donny asked.
“Yes, but only if you feel able. You mustn’t overdo it, Donny, or the doctor will havemyhead.”
He scoffed. “I’m that sick of sittin’ around twiddlin’ my thumbs. And we have the chance to practice in the daylight, what with young miss off visitin’.”
Usually, they held their practice session, fighting with wooden blades, at night after Felicity had retired. Today, though, the girl was visiting with the Blackmores and wouldn’t return home till after dinner.
Samantha retucked her linen shirt into the waistband of her plain black skirt and resumed the stance. Donny engaged and for several minutes stick clattered against stick as they parried and thrust, sliding back and forth across the floor in their stocking feet. Despite her rustiness, she felt confidence flowing through her body as her training reasserted itself.
Their mission had been too long delayed due to Donny’s injury, Beath’s infernal meddling, and the commotion of her marriage. Thankfully, the Kendricks had stepped into the gap. She was immensely grateful for their help, but no one knew the situation better than she did, and it was time to get back into the game.
She saw an opening and slid her faux blade under Donny’s point, jabbing him in the armpit. He retreated, shaking his head in disgust.
“Ye got me there, missus.”
She grinned. “I certainly did. It’s good to get back to it, I must say.”
Panting a bit, Donny picked up a towel from the back of a chair and scrubbed the sweat off his flushed face.
“Perhaps we’d best call it quits,” she said. “We don’t want to push it, now that your ankle is finally better.”
“I’m just a little out of shape. It’s all that sittin’ around for so long.”
“Why don’t you rest for a minute and let me fetch you a glass of water?”
He nodded and sank gratefully into the chair.
Mentally kicking herself, Samantha went to the pitcher on the sideboard. Donny was getting older, probably too old for this work. While he’d always been her valuable right hand, she had another champion now—her husband. Braden had vowed that he would see this through to the end. She also had the entire Kendrick family on her side. Because of them, she was closer to cracking the case than ever before.
For the first time in ages, Samantha felt hope. Still, a fierce battle lay ahead of them, and her greatest fear was that one of those she most cherished, including Braden, could be hurt, or even killed. She would take a bullet herself before she allowed that to happen again.
She would not lose another man she loved.
After she brought Donny his water, she covertly studied him. Yes, he was showing his years. To keep putting him in harm’s way—
Donny interrupted that thought by scowling at her. “Just ye stop it, my lady. I’m damn capable of takin’ care of myself, as is Dr. Kendrick.”
Sometimes Samantha wished her servants didn’t know her quite so well.
