His cousin and uncle were in the room along with all of the male guests, several of whom were holding foils ready for a bout with Jared. They had pushed the long table back to the side, leaving ample room for a pair of fencers, and making makeshift seating for the audience who were not leaning against the walls and gun cupboards.
The fencing master had casually thrown down a challenge when Cal had taken him on one side and suggested that it might be a good idea if he demonstrated that he was alive and kicking. Jared had promptly wagered an elegant new foil he had brought with him that no-one could disarm him.
‘What do the losers pay?’ Ransome had asked.
‘Nothing. I like to fight.’ Jared had shown his teeth in a smile that showed Cal that his friend still didn’t take to the other man, even though, naturally, he had said nothing about Sophie’s secret or his own deep suspicions.
‘I’ll start,’ he offered. Best to get this demonstration over while he could still stand up. But although it hurt like the blazes, although he felt weak, he found he could fight and find the strength from somewhere. He’d toughened up with all those years of travel, all the dangers and the adventures and the relentless need to keep fit to look after his little household. Jared was being careful, being more than careful – he was making Cal look good – but even so, he could feel pleased with himself. There. A sudden opening, a lunge, Jared’s expected feint, recovery, and Cal slipped through with a cut that would have sent a lesser man’s blade flying.
Only this was not a lesser man. Jared kept hold of his foil, twisted, met Cal’s eyes and Cal, reading the message, let his own grip weaken. His foil was flicked away and the blunt end of Jared’s blade touched his throat.
As a ripple of applause went round the room Cal threw up his hands, palm out, in the signal for surrender and headed for a chair, collapsing in it with a show of exhaustion that needed no playacting. ‘You’re too good, Hunt.’
‘You are not bad yourself, Your Grace.’ Jared had hardly broken a sweat. ‘But then I did teach you.’ Amidst laughter he turned to the other men. ‘Who is next?’
‘I’ll try.’ Jonathan Ransome picked up a foil and sauntered into the centre of the room as a movement by the door drew Cal’s gaze.
Sophie? She was white to the lips, but she slipped in, behind the row of men who were all watching the new contest begin, and knelt by the side of his chair unobserved.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded in a furious whisper. ‘You should be lying down, not exerting yourself, let alone fighting.’
‘Making a point,’ he whispered back, enjoying the sensation of moving his lips so close to her ear, feeling her curls tickle his nose, inhaling the light, spicy perfume she wore. ‘And the exercise has done me good, sweated the rest of the poison out.’
‘I was looking for you, and then I heard the clash of the foils – I was anxious.’
‘Thought Jared would spit me, did you?’ He kept his hand on her shoulder as she knelt by his chair. She shouldn’t be here, not in this room full of men, and he was not going to draw attention to her by standing up and giving her his chair. In a moment he was going to have to get her out of the room, but he enjoyed the feel of her warm skin under his hand.
‘I don’t know,’ she muttered resentfully, even as she arched her neck to give him better access. ‘You men seem to duel at the slightest provocation. Who is he fighting now? Oh.’
‘Don’t you like Ransome?’
Sophie shrugged. ‘He is too full of himself.’
‘Very handsome, or so I am told.’
She made a complicated sound, a cross between a snort and a huff. ‘I really don’t notice him.’
And that is a lie. His hand went still on her shoulder. Sophie did not lie to him, he would have sworn. But that was untrue. Her body was stiff now and last night she had deliberately ignored Ransome although he had reacted to her. All the suspicions of the night before flooded back. ‘Sophie…’ No, this was neither the time nor the place.
Jared was focused on Ransome who was a showy fencer, but good, Cal admitted grudgingly. There was a intensity about him, backed up by solid skills, that would make him very dangerous indeed. Just as he thought it there was a flurry of movement, Jared lunged and Ransome’s feet went from under him, landing him on the floor with a thud.
‘That was luck on my side.’ Jared extended his hand. ‘You turned your heel on that uneven slab.’
Not a good loser, Cal thought, seeing the fury in the man’s eyes, the artificiality of his smile as he waved away Jared’s hand and got himself to his feet. Sophie had joined in the applause with a will. He was going to get to the bottom of this. But not yet.
‘You had better slip out again,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘I’m leaving too, to see Isobel, you go first.’
She got to her feet and tiptoed out and Cal got to his feet, collecting the attention of the guests who had been in the middle of a technical discussion of Jared’s last move. ‘I need to go and check up on a few things. If you’ll excuse me gentlemen. Ring if you want refreshment.’
He pulled on his coat and caught up with Sophie around the first corner. She turned at the sound of his feet on the flagstones, then flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, full on the mouth. Cal let the impetus carry him back to the wall
, propped his shoulders against the panelling and enjoyed the sensation of being fiercely kissed by a furious woman.
‘I could hit you,’ she stormed at him when he came up for air. ‘You should be in bed resting and what do you do? You start a fight. And you were magnificent and I thought it was exciting and I am furious with myself and with you.’
‘Magnificent? Jared disarmed me.’
‘He is a professional, and besides, you let him get the better of you right at the end. I have never seen men fence before and you – ’ She broke off, biting her lip. ‘I found your… muscles quite distracting.’