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“Well, at least a little pleased. You know your father cannot manage this place on his own, and our Scottish swordsmen need somewhere to train.”
“You train here already.”
“Indeed we do, but we also need a base for our fencing masters and our warriors and our new knights. The palace is no use. Between you and me, the King is not much of a swordsman. He is more interested in hunting and riding and does not take much stock of sword skills. He does not think they will be needed once the peace with Spain is signed.”
“There has been talk of peace for years, even when old Queen Elizabeth reigned. It all came to naught. It is not likely to be any different now. Father says you cannot trust the Spanish. They are still in bed with the Irish and brewing up trouble. Father fought over there, and he should know.”
“Ah, but it is different now. The Spanish are already here. Bar a bit of arguing over how much the Catholics should be tolerated, the treaty is almost sealed.”
“Should you be telling me any of this? I could be a Catholic for all you know.”
“I trust you. And I know you are not a Catholic.”
“How do you know?” Her eyes narrowed, waiting for the answer but there was none forthcoming as she started to undo the binding on his head wound. “Perhaps your trust is misplaced.” She tugged at the binding where it was stuck to dried blood in his hair, careful to tug in such a way as to cause discomfort but not set off the bleeding again.
“How long will this take? I have work to do for my uncle. Plans do not come into being without action.”
“If you could sit still and stop talking it will be done all the faster.” She could not bear any more talk of how he would be her father’s savior. How dare he cast himself as the hero? It was clear he was simply his uncle’s pawn, and Cavendish planned to fill Whitefriars with his vassals and spies using her father as a channel to infiltrate the English Masters of Defense. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was her suspicions were true. He must have been checking up on them to boast of knowing so much about her. She glared at him when he fidgeted again, grasping his head firmly until he sat still enough for her to continue.
“Trust must go both ways you know,” McCrae said slyly, running a finger along the outside length of her arm as she finished unwinding the cloth. “I know what you have been up to with your swords and your interesting lady friends. I am sure you understand the value of discretion.” Without missing a turn in unravelling the binding, she slapped him smartly on the cheek.
“What was that for?” he said clutching his cheek with his hand.
“For taking liberties. I am here to nurse you, not for you to paw at nor to suffer your idle threats. I am neither a weakling nor a trull.”
“Do you ever think you could let a man try and help you? You are the most maddening, ungrateful—”
“Help me? Only if I needed help. I certainly do not appreciate a man helping himself to me as you can attest by the mark upon your cheek.” Far from being cowed, her slap seemed to have had the opposite effect. The glint of mischief was back in his eyes, and he was giving her that look, the look that made her uncomfortably hot, with no idea which way to turn her head. The expression on his face suddenly shifted from mischievous to staidly serious.
“I am sorry,” he said. “Please forgive me. I would never betray your trust or reveal your secrets. I am a man of honor. I do not go back on my word.” He looked so earnest she could not stop herself from bursting into peals of laughter. “First you hit me, now you laugh at me? I do not think I will ever understand the workings of a woman’s mind.”
While they were talking Nathan had arrived to help for the day, coming up behind Lucinda and catching the end of her exchange with McCrae.
“I do not think any man will ever understand the workings of a woman’s mind, especially not Lucinda’s.” While there was a grin on Nathan’s face, the smile did not reach his eyes and there was a palpable undercurrent between the two men that made her wonder how much of the exchange he had witnessed.
“Did your mother never tell you not to sneak up on a person? It is both dangerous and ill mannered,” she said.
“She is prickly today. I am afraid it is my fault. I kept her awake half the night,” McCrae said with enough intimation to cause Nathan to bristle and her to bite back.
“She will be even pricklier if you gentlemen keep talking about her as if she isn’t here! There, you are done.” She finished securing the fresh binding on McCrae’s head, tucking the end of the cloth in on itself. “No fighting today or it could restart the bleeding. You really should not exert yourself for the rest of the week.”
“I am afraid my uncle cannot spare me, and there is much to arrange for the new fencing program here.”
“What new—” Nathan began to interject until she silenced him with a nudge from her elbow.
“You will be of no use to your uncle if the wound festers and turns your blood bad, the pustulence goes to your brain, and you drop down dead.” It was perhaps an over-statement but entirely justified simply for the satisfaction of seeing the look on his face. Ignoring McCrae she turned to Nathan. “There is much that has changed around here in the last few days.”
“There is to be a new Scottish fencing master joining Whitefriars,” McCrae jumped in, “and I am to assist him.” He did not bother to hide the gloating in his boast.
Lucinda levelled McCrae with her most malevolent glare.
“You are pleased at this development?” Nathan asked, picking up on her obvious distaste at the arrangement.
“Why would she not be?” McCrae jumped in again. “Her father desperately needs the help. He has been struggling under the workload.”
Turning away abruptly from McCrae she spoke only to Nathan. “Come and help me ready the morning’s weapons, and I will explain.” If she stayed any longer, she would not be held responsible for her actions. Simple murder would be wasted on the man. “And you,” she pointed at McCrae, “go home and rest. I need to return this bed to our sleeping quarters where it belongs.”
“Let me help,” McCrae jumped to his feet but was overcome by a bout of dizziness. She caught him by the elbow just in time, steadying him with her other hand around his waist, a position that was all too intimate, but without her intervention he would have crumpled.
