Page 34 of The Villain
She shrugged one shoulder, brushing past him and pulling on her mask. “I told you … I’ve been fencing since I was a girl. I am no novice.”
“We shall put your skill to the test,” he replied, walking down the gallery a few paces before turning to face her. “En garde!”
Daphne reacted swiftly to the command, assuming her starting position and thrusting her épée out before her, legs bent, one hand folded behind her back.
“Rules?” he asked once he’d sank into his own beginning posture. “First to five points wins the bout … three bouts total?”
She nodded in agreement. “The winner of two out of three bouts claims their prize.”
“Very well,” he affirmed. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she replied just before he called out the starting word.
“Allez!”
He followed the command with a swift lunge, his long limbs serving to thrust the épée squarely at her center. She danced back and circled her own weapon to parry the thrust, easily knocking it aside. He lunged again, feinting left, then swiftly striking right when she moved to defend herself. The tip of his épée struck her shoulder, earning him one point.
Clenching her teeth, she moved away from him, sinking back into her beginning stance while he did the same.
“En garde,” she growled, thoroughly irritated that he’d scored the first point.
Bertram had always accused her of being competitive in everything, often goading her into wagers over even the most mundane thing. Her need to win was now more than a desire to ferret more secrets from Adam. It had become a matter of pride. This man had humiliated her far too many times since they’d met, and she was owed recompense.
“Allez!”
This time, she attacked first, lunging, then backpedaling when he feinted and tried to counter-attack. She feinted again, lower this time, forcing him to protect his legs. Then, she swiftly flicked the épée, striking his lowered shoulder.
Glowering at her through the mesh front of his mask, he backed off, taking his position once more. They went at each other three more times, dancing around one another as they learned each other, testing with various attacks and discovering each other’s weakness.
After becoming tied with four points each, Adam managed to beat her in the first bout, countering her attack and landing his épée upon her thigh. Despite the loss, Daphne grinned, circling him to get back in position for the second bout. She’d always enjoyed fencing and had not faced so worthy an opponent in quite some time.
“You possess admirable skill with the épée,” he said as he faced her and crouched into position. “En garde.”
She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Funny … I was going to say the same thing about you …Allez!”
He laughed, swiftly backpedaling away from her attack before countering with one of his own. The second bout lasted longer than the first, both of them giving as good as they got, the tentative learning from the first fight making way for displays of style and flair. She proved lighter on her feet than him, her slender figure making her a smaller target and therefore harder for him to strike.
She stole the second bout, gaining her five points to trounce his three.
“Well met, little dove,” he panted, lifting his mask for a moment and using his sleeve to dry the sweat causing his brow to glisten. “But you shall not fare so well in the final bout. I can feel your sweet lips around my cock already.”
Determination clenched her jaw, and she ignored his teasing, remaining silent as she resumed her starting position. Laughing as if he knew he’d struck a nerve, he circled her, returning to his place and preparing for the third round. She fought against the urge to so much as blink lest she miss any hint of his moves as he went on the offensive, using brute force to beat her back. She danced away from him, spinning and parrying to avoid the touch of his épée. Yet, he did not allow her to land a single blow, becoming far more ruthless in this bout than he had been in the previous two. He landed two blows in quick succession, sacrificing himself and allowing her to land one in the process.
His laughter taunted her, her breath quickening into enraged pants as he landed a third blow and then a fourth. He’d thrown her off balance so quickly, causing desperation and anger to make her careless. The fifth blow fell so easily, she might as well have stood still and allowed him the point.
The épée landed in the center of her chest, its blunt edge resting between her breasts. Adam kept it there while he removed his mask and tossed it aside. Sweat dampened his forehead, but his eyes danced when he grinned at her, triumph squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin.
Tossing her épée to the floor with a huff, she tore off her own mask and dropped it, hands clenching into fists at her sides. She wanted to bat his sword aside and rush him, pummeling him with her fists, possibly even delivering a slap that would leave a handprint upon his face.
However, she had been fairly beaten and could find no fault with him this time. Remembering how he’d punished her for acting like a harridan the night before, she took a deep breath and calmed. No need to provoke him further, especially when he would now have her in a vulnerable position.
“You aren’t half bad, little dove,” he quipped, lowering his épée and bending down to retrieve hers before going back to hang them on the wall. “Only Niall ever proves as much of a challenge, so it is nice to have someone new about to cross swords with.”
As he began stripping away his jacket, she was taken aback by his downright jovial tone. Just that morning, he had been so harsh with her; yet, it would seem fencing had put him in a good mood. She had expected him to tease her, to rub her nose in her defeat before throwing her to her knees to claim what he’d fairly won.
“I am out of practice,” she admitted, reaching up to begin unbuttoning her own jacket. “It has been some time since I’ve had someone to spar with daily. Bertram and I …”
She lowered her eyes when his gaze fell upon her, heavy with reproach at the mention of her brother’s name. The urge to kick herself overwhelmed her, and she could not believe she’d gone and said the one name guaranteed to drag him back into a dudgeon.
