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“See! What did I tell you? You are the one who is struggling at the moment, and not I nor anyone in my family. Sit over there with your back against the wall. I shall bring you something to eat and drink, and then you can get up slowly. You may need someone to accompany you home.”
Like chastened puppies both men obeyed her. Not before time. Please God save her from the folly of men. She did not need any of this. Scotsmen taking over her beloved academy. Women attacked and raped in their own homes, and no one willing to help them. Men so full of their own importance it made her want to scream.
Where to begin? So much had happened since she had last seen Nathan, and she did not have enough time to tell him all. She had told him about giving lessons to Annie and Moll but not about Lizzie or the new name for her class. So she told him what had happened since he last came to the academy, moving quickly on to her suspicion that McCrae was following her and had caught her twice coming out of the Cardinal’s Cap. As she talked Nathan wore his thinking face, the face she had learned to pay attention to.
“When he said he was on his uncle’s business, perhaps he was telling the truth. If Cavendish was looking to use your father’s academy as his own base, he probably tasked McCrae with spying on you and gathering as much information on your family as he could before committing to an alliance.”
The logic of Nathan’s argument hit her like a bucket of slops. So the betrayal was worse than she had imagined. How could McCrae dare to look her in the eye if this was true?
“The only bright side is that he may lose interest in my movements now they have what they want,” she said, thinking aloud.
“I would not be so sure of it. You may have to stop your women’s fencing class for some time,” Nathan said, dousing her optimism with a cold splash of reality.
“I have promised the others. I cannot go back on my word.”
“Now you are sounding like him,” Nathan said.
“So you were listening in!”
“I do not like the way he stares at you,” he said sheepishly.
“He is not the only one. Many men stare at me. I find it most perplexing.”
“You have no idea why men stare at you?”
“I know men like to look at women. I also know I do not like it. Neither, it would seem, do you. I believe you might be jealous?” As she brushed a strand of hair from her face, Nathan took the buckler shield from her and added it to the neatly stacked row she had set out for father’s first lesson with his scholars. Nathan looked at her again in a manner which set off a swirling mix of feelings, one she recognized as desire, along with a hefty dose of wariness and a pinch of terror. Such feelings were dangerous. Feelings led to weakness and recklessness. She could not afford to give into foolish impulses or recklessness.
“You have grown into a very striking and beautiful woman.” As she started to protest, he held up his hand. “Hear me out. I beg you. Tis your disdain for the power of your beauty that only adds to your allure. I worry for you, Lucinda, not out of jealously, though that I am. I worry because beauty in a woman bestows power on the one hand and vulnerability on the other. Men want to possess you as a prize, and women are envious of the attention you garner. A woman such as you will have many admirers, as many lovers as you desire, but few true friends.”
She picked another shield off the hook where it hung and hugged it to her chest. “Is that speech from one of your plays?”
“It is not. I speak as a friend from my own observations. As a friend, and someone who loves you.” The old familiar squeeze gripped her heart. It was painful, so painful to long for what could not be. She placed the shield on the floor with the other weapons, leaving her chest as unprotected as her heart. Nathan’s dark eyes were brimming with a melancholy that matched her own sorrow and regret. “I know we cannot be lovers,” he said, gently brushing the side of her hand, “but that does not stop me from loving you. One day I will be famous and have enough money to support a wife. I will be a shareholder in a theatre, or maybe proprietor of my own theatre, and then I will marry you, Lucinda Evans. That is, if I am not too late and someone else snatches you away first.”
She scoffed and pushed him off. “I have no desire to marry anyone. At least not for a very long time. Father and Grandma need me too much. Besides, I am only twenty. Only noblewomen are unfortunate enough to marry young.”
“What about him out there? He is always making eyes at you.”
“No he is not. Do not be a fool. He is the last man I would have any interest in. Besides, he is a nobleman, and I am a swordmaster’s daughter.”
“Ah. So I am right, and you have noticed after all.”
“All I have noticed is that he is insufferable. He is convinced I need protecting.”
A sly grin passed across Nathan’s face. “Then I pity him when he finds out how wrong he is.”
