Standing before her, he was almost mesmerised seeing her with the small, silver dagger in her hand, its tip still pointed at him. “Where did you get this?”
She shrugged. “A friend gave it to me.”
“I see.” He nodded, remembering the piercing eyes of Henrietta Turner. The woman didn’t look like one who knew how to wield a weapon, but she was the only logical answer.
“Do you?”
He grinned. “I believe I do, yes.” Seeing the spark of resistance in her eyes, the desire to not be dominated by anyone, Edmond suddenly knew how to draw her out. “Meet me at the back door to the kitchen before the break of dawn.”
“What?”
But he only winked at her and left without saying another word.
Chapter Twenty-Two − The Break of Dawn
As her mind resurfaced from the deep slumber that had claimed her that night, dancing on the thin border between sleeping and waking, dull thuds began to echo through her dreams. Mingling with them came her name, carried on the chilled morning air touching her skin.
Anna cringed, hands seeking the comforting warmth of her bedding, and drew the blanket up to her ears. Eyes pinched shut, she only heard the faint scraping of the door to her bedchamber sliding open. Light footsteps approached her bed, and she drew the blanket over her head.
“Good morning, my little vixen!” boomed her husband’s annoyingly cheerful voice right be-side her. “Up! Up! You’re late.” A hand descended on her shoulder, giving her a soft shake.
“Get out!” Anna snapped, equally irritated by the early hour of his visit as the exuberant tone in his voice. Rolling to her side, she turned her back to him.
Ignoring her, he stepped around the bed, grabbed a handful of the blanket covering her to her ears and in one fluid motion yanked it off her.
Eyes ablaze, Anna shot up. “Are you mad? Get out!”
That stupid smirk on his face, he shook his head. “Not a chance, my lady.” He turned and walked over to her armoire. Pulling the doors open, he rummaged around inside for a moment, then pulled out a simple riding outfit and tossed it at her, hitting her right in the head.
Anna fumed.
“Get dressed,” he said, no anger showing in his voice. Only amusement.
“I will not!” Yanking the dress off her face, Anna threw it on the floor.
The smile vanished from his face. Eyes fixed on her, he approached the bed in slow, carefully measured strides like a feline stalking its prey. “You will,” he said, his voice quiet like the air before a storm. “If you do not meet me by the back door in ten minutes, I will come up here and drag you out in your nightgown.” His eyes narrowed as he watched her face for the impact of his words. “I assure you, my lady, I mean what I say. This is no empty threat. You’d be wise to heed my words.” For a moment, his eyes lingered on hers, then he spun on his heel, walked out and closed the door.
When his footsteps echoed down the corridor, Anna drew in a sharp breath. How dare he?
Glancing about the room, Anna tried to calm her nerves. Was he truly serious? Would he force her outside in her nightdress? Should he decide on that course of action, Anna knew she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Kneeling down to pick up her crumpled riding outfit, Anna wondered what would be worse: acquiescing to his request or suffering the humiliation of having her will bent to his?
As she rose to her feet, her eyes met her own in the mirror on her vanity, and she knew without a doubt that she could not expect to win every battle. And so she scrambled to slip off her nightgown and slid into her riding outfit, brushing out the ruffles as best as she could. Staring at the tousled locks sprouting from her head, she quickly ran a brush through them, grabbed a ribbon from her vanity and forced her wilful locks into a braid.
Once dressed, Anna took her time descending the stairs to the ground floor. Upon hearing her husband’s impatient footsteps approaching from down the hall, a smile came to her face. As he saw her leisurely strolling downstairs, he stopped and shook his head. “Ever the vixen, are you not?”
“Give me one good reason why I ought to hurry?” she asked over her shoulder, brushing by him without a second look. He fell into step beside her, arm gesturing toward the kitchen area. “Pray tell where are we going at this early hour?”
He laughed, holding the door open for her. “That is none of your concern, my lady.” He grabbed two woollen cloaks from the table by the back door, donning one himself and handing her the other.
Holding it with only two fingers, Anna eyed the garment suspiciously. “What is this?”
“Don’t ask. Just put it on.” Clearly annoyed with her, he took the cloak from her hand and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then he drew the hood over her head. It fell deep into her face so that she had to lift her chin in order to see. “You cannot be serious,” she snapped, but he was already out the door, calling for her to follow.
Outside, two rather impatiently waiting horses where hitched to a post, their fur as dark as the cloaks that covered them. In the distance, the night sky began to clear as streaks of light blue and pale red announced the break of dawn.
“Get on with it, woman.”
Turning her head, Anna peered out from under the hood, then lifted her head to meet her husband’s impatient gaze as he sat waiting for her on his horse. He gestured at the other, raising his eyebrows. “I assume a woman who sleeps with a dagger has no problem riding astride.”
Anna took a deep breath. Although she had often wanted to try it, an opportunity had never presented itself. However, she would rather fall flat on her face than admit that she didn’t know how to do it! After all, how difficult could it be!
Approaching the horse, Anna brushed a hand down its nose, murmuring a soft greeting. Then she ran her hand along its neck until she came face to face with the task at hand. Drawing in another deep breath, Anna felt daunted by the sheer size of the beast. With no one to aid her nor a stool in sight, she grabbed the front of the saddle with her left hand, then lifted her left leg and with less difficulty than expected managed to fit her left foot in the stirrup. With her left leg lifted in such an angle, her skirts billowed up her leg, revealing more than was considered decent of both her legs. Glancing over her shoulder, Anna felt relieved that her husband was situated behind her horse’s rear, which fortunately barred his view.
“Need any help?” he offered, but Anna could clearly detect amusement at her predicament in his voice.
“Not at all,” she trilled, hoping that she would not prove herself wrong. Grabbing the back of the saddle with her right hand, she pushed herself off the ground with her right leg, trying to gain enough momentum to haul herself into the saddle. Unfortunately, the horse stood rather tall, observing her efforts with a critical eye. More than once, she had to lower herself back down, feeling beads of sweat pop up on her forehead. Cursing under her breath, Anna leaned forward, reaching farther around the saddle.
Although she couldn’t see her husband’s face, she knew it held the same self-satisfied smirk that always made her want to slap him. Channelling the anger building within her, Anna gritted her teeth, gave one final push and, pulling herself up with both hands, strained to fully extend her left leg.
For a moment, she feared her strength would fail her and she would have to lower herself back down. But willing herself not to give up, she finally managed to stand on her left foot and swing her right leg over the saddle. When her bottom made contact with the soft leather of the saddle, Anna sighed, closing her eyes for a moment to savour the relief washing over her exhausted limbs.
“Not bad,” her husband’s voice penetrated her thoughts. “Took you long enough though.”
Glaring at him, Anna snapped, “What now? You woke me in the middle of the night to go for a ride? What is this? A new form of marital torture?”
He grinned. “Oh, I am enjoying myself immensely.” Guiding his gelding around the house toward the front gate, he waved for her to follow.
Swallowing her prid
e, or what was left of it, Anna spurred on her mare while trying to balance herself in the saddle. One leg on either side was a strange sensation, but Anna soon discovered how easy it was to keep herself upright.
Cursing under her breath at the situation he had forced her in, Anna followed her husband through the still somewhat deserted streets of London. Lighter colours joined the dark blue still dominating the sky, and here and there faint sounds reached Anna’s ears. Wrapped in her cloak, she barely felt the chill of the early morning air, and she soon found herself at ease, curiously observing the world around her from a perspective never perceived before.
The early morning dark, unlike the dark of an evening dusk, painted the world in different colours. Although shadows danced here and there, Anna found that black was not simply one col-our but instead had a variety of shades to it. The more they ventured toward the outskirts of town, the more Anna’s ears picked up bird calls and the cool breeze rustling through leaves. A brook murmured in the distance as they finally left the populated area behind. Dense fog hung above the earth so that Anna could not see the ground before her mare’s hooves. “Where are we going?” she called ahead, but her husband remained quiet.
For another long while they proceeded through meadows, crossed a shallow brook until they reached the borders of a thickly growing forest. They followed the tree line in a half-circle, until they reached a small pocket of a meadow surrounded by tall standing sentinels, their branches almost forming a roof far above their heads. Here, her husband stopped his gelding and dismounted.
Looking around, Anna frowned. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Get down,” he said, tying his horse’s reins to a low-hanging branch.
Anna’s eyes narrowed. “Why?” She scanned her surroundings. “There is nothing here.”
He grinned. “Nothing but you and me.” He held out his hand to help her down.
Anna shook her head. “First tell me why you brought me here.”
For a long moment, he just looked at her as though trying to make up his mind. Then he turned and walked back through the tall grass to his gelding. From a long bag attached to the saddle, that Anna hadn’t noticed before, he drew a foil. A smirk on his face, he walked back to her.
“What is that? Did you bring me here to kill me?” Anna asked, feigning a mocking tone. Deep down though, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d pushed him too far. Standing in the clearing, the dense fog swirling around his feet, clad in a dark cloak and a glittering weapon in his hand, he looked like a vengeful spirit risen from the depth of the earth.
At least until a grin spread over his face. “I brought you here for a little bit of fun,” he said. “Judging from the constant scowl on your face you’ve had very little of it lately.”
“Fun?”
He nodded. “Yes, fun. Now get down.”
Anna hesitated, but then complied. She had followed him this far, she might as well see what he had in mind. Especially, since she felt absolutely certain she wouldn’t be able to find her way back to town on her own. Blasted fog!
Without warning, he tossed the foil at her.
Shrieking, Anna side-stepped it, and it landed in the knee-high grass.
Shaking his head, he laughed. “You better get that.”
“Why?” Glancing into the dense fog, Anna felt less than encouraged to dig around in the dirt.
“So you have something to defend yourself with.” The hint of real threat in his voice made her head snap up, and she found him wading back to her with another, identical foil in his right hand, its tip gleaming in the faint morning light.
Eyeing him warily, Anna raised her chin. “Is this a game?”
“Everything is a game.” He glanced down at her feet. “Pick it up.”
Anna shook her head.
“Afraid?”
A frown creased her forehead. She knew he was baiting her, and yet…
Eyes on him, she bent down and fortunately located the foil before her fingers made contact with anything vile. The hilt lay in her hand like a knife a few sizes too big, and she could see on his face that she looked about as ridiculous as she felt. “I picked it up, now what?”
“Here, put this on the tip of your foil,” he said, throwing something at her, that she caught only by instinct. “It’s called a blossom. It blunts the tip.” A grin drew up the corners of his mouth. “Contrary to popular opinion, I am not trying to kill you, my lady.”
Fastening the blossom, Anna shrugged. “Then what is the point of this?”
“As I said I want you to have some fun.” He moved toward her until only a few steps separated them, his intense, blue eyes fixed on her own. “Now listen, my little vixen, and listen carefully. I will teach you what you need to know.” Anna felt her muscles tighten at his flippant tone. “But only once, after that I’ll be collecting the spoils.”
“Spoils? What on earth do you mean?” Anna asked, as a sinking feeling settled in her stomach.
Eyes serious, he leaned toward her. “It means that should I win a match I collect a spoil of my choosing.”
Anna frowned. “What could you possibly want from me?”
A slow smile spread over his face, before his eyes ever so slowly dipped lower to her lips. As Anna drew in a sharp breath, he winked at her. “Of course, should you win, I will be prepared to grant you the same privilege.”
Gritting her teeth, Anna squared her shoulders. “What if I choose not to participate in this game?”
Her husband shrugged. “In that case, you forfeit, which means I win.”
“Drat!” Anna cursed.
“That’s the spirit,” he laughed. “Now first things first. Get into position.”
Chapter Twenty-Three − Truce
With her scarlet hair in wild disarray and a murderous gleam in her eyes, she looked like a warrior bride of the north. And yet the elegance with which she moved rather spoke of a dancer than a warrior. As she got back into starting position, her sword hand forward, front foot pointed at him, Edmond congratulated himself on this marvellous idea.
Fuming with anger, she lunged at him, but he easily escaped her foil’s blunted tip. “Your grip is too tight,” he counselled, seeing the murderous gleam in her eyes light up even more. “Grip the hilt as though you are holding a small bird in your hand.”
She gritted her teeth and attacked once more.
“Too slow,” he commented, knowing his languid tone would only enrage her further. “Your wrist needs to be loose or your movements will become slower. Here, let me show you.” Setting his feet apart, he began in the en garde position, demonstrating a straight thrust forward, leading with his right foot. Then he retreated backward, leading with his left foot. “Balance your weight evenly for greater speed.”
Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing as narrowed eyes shot lightning bolts at him. “It is time for a break,” she snapped, sinking into the high grass.
“I feel perfectly fine, my lady.”
“I am not at all surprised.” She glowered at him from under her lashes. “For you’re not doing much besides watch and comment, my lord.”
He laughed, tossing her a bag of water. Catching it, she drank in huge gulps and coughed as a few drops entered her wind pipe. Watching her flushed cheeks and the slight shake in her sword hand, Edmond smiled. Although she still wanted nothing more than his head on a silver platter, her anger was currently in control. She didn’t lash out at him like a wild beast, but instead attacked according to pre-set rules. This way, he could handle her. As long as she followed the rules, and he’d make sure she would.
“Up! Up! Idleness will not teach you.”
Again her eyes narrowed, but she got to her feet, and Edmond thought to detect a spark of ambition as she set her feet apart the way he had taught her. Her face concentrated, she watched him and managed to thwart his attack. Again and again they moved back and forth across the clearing, their lower garments soaked with the dense fog and morning dew clinging to the
high grass. The sun had long since made its presence known, casting its rays through the thick forest, slowly chasing away the night chill still lingering in the air.
“Well done,” Edmond praised. Although she tried her best to ignore his words, he noticed the change in her posture as she straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. He remembered well the joyous feeling that had swept through him upon first learning how to handle a weapon. Nothing had ever given him more confidence but the ability to defend himself.
At noon, they settled on a fallen tree stump, and Edmond produced a small parcel from one of his saddle bags. Inside, they found sandwiches and apples. A low rumble from Anna’s stomach confirmed just how welcome they were in that moment.
Biting into her sandwich, Anna closed her eyes, savouring the delicious food. “This is good,” she whispered around a bite, not bothering to swallow first. Grinning, Edmond watched her, almost transfixed.
Her hair an indescribable mess, her dress soaked with sweat and rain water, she chewed hungrily, her eyes ravenously studying what remained of their lunch. She had never been more lovely than in that moment. Her cheeks flushed with exercise and her eyes shining with success, she sat beside him, legs drawn up for comfort. It was not lady-like, but it was honest and comfortable.
Devouring his own sandwich, Edmond’s eyes kept shifting to the woman beside him. At first, she was too preoccupied with hunger to notice, but once the sandwich had disappeared and she reached for an apple, she caught him looking. “What?”
Grinning, he shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just you seem…”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You seem comfortable,” he finished. “Yes, I’ve never seen you like this before. You seem at ease for the first time since we met.”
Dropping her gaze, she bit into the apple.