Page 69 of The Swordmaster's Daughter

“Best thing I’ve seen since…”

“Do you think she gives lessons?”

“Teehee.”

“Ha-ha.”

She was still so fired up, it all bounced off her. She did a circuit of the room. Nothing seemed to be broken or damaged other than Spanish pride. She waited until the Spanish had all left before standing atop a small chest and announcing to the room. “Show’s over gentleman. Kindly resume your training and might I draw everyone’s attention to the rules.” She pointed to the sign once again. “Even in my father’s absence, the rules will be enforced.”

“Give us another crack,” someone shouted.

It was then she saw McCrae and her father come in through the door. Father’s hand was on McCrae’s back, and he did not have the look of a man who had been told his daughter’s recently proposed courtship was now a thing of the past. Coward. He must not have told him. She would have to put that right. It would seem she was destined to spend the whole day cleaning up the mess of hot-headed men. Climbing down from the chest she bolted for the courtyard. She had no desire for any more conflict and had a need once again for some air. The courtyard was still scattered with a few groups of fencers, so she let herself into Grandma’s storage shed in search of some time on her own. She had only just closed the door behind her when a faint knock sounded at the door. If that was McCrae!

“It’s me,” a voice shout-whispered at the keyhole. “Let me in.”

She checked to see if anyone was watching. After all Moll was to all intents and purposes “Mal” and there was enough talk about her without adding to the gossip. Moll had brought her a drink. Oh how she loved Moll. She might be a cutpurse and a rogue, but she could always be relied upon to help.

“Wait until I tell the other Sisters about this!”

“Do you think you will have a need to? The story will be all over London within the hour I am sure.”

“Swordmaster’s daughter whips Spanish arse?”

“Something to that effect I expect.” Lucinda leaned her back to the bench and sank to her haunches.

“Oh Moll, what have I done?” She began to tremble, her teeth chattering. She could not make them stop although she was not cold.

“They’ll be singing songs about you in the taverns by nightfall.”

This was not what she wanted to hear at all. She looked at Moll with a pained expression. “Father will be livid with me.”

“I do not see why. He was not here. You enforced his rules. I thought you were magnificent by the way. Where did you learn to crack a whip like that?”

“A bullock master was a fencer here when I was a child. Father let him practice his whip skills on the piste. They do not use them to hit the beasts, only to make a noise in order to herd them so you must be very accurate and flick it in such a way that it makes a very loud noise.”

“It certainly did that. So he taught you how to do it?”

“Yes, and he gave me a gift of that whip. I have not used it for a long time. I am so glad my aim was not off, or it could have gone horribly wrong.” She held her hands out in front of her. “See, my hands are still shaking.”

“Tis the aftereffects of the battle. I used to be like that after I took a purse. Which reminds me. I have something to show you—”

“Lucinda!” It was the voice of her father. “Lucinda!”

“I had better go.” Moll helped her to her feet. “Stay in here until we are back inside,” she whispered. “Coming Father. Won’t be long.”

Moll tried to tug her back. “I really do need to show you something.”

“Later. Meet me here when everyone is gone.”

She stepped out to face her father, which was bad enough, but he was not alone.

“Well, well,” Robert McCrae said, “every day I am more amazed at the talents of my betrothed.”

”Is it true?” her father said.

”Is what true? I do not know what you have heard.”

Father gave her a look that sent her heart scuttling back to childhood, waiting to see if her punishment would be a mild rebuke or the back of his hand. “The whip?” Father looked at her, waiting expectantly for her reply. She did not speak. What could she say? She did not look up, or her face would instantly give her away. He held up one hand. “That is what I thought. I shall deal with you later, but for now I shall take my leave. I believe you two have much to discuss.” He spun on his heel abruptly turning away. Was that a smile or a grimace he concealed?

Moll was right about one thing. This incident would be the talk of the town, and Robert McCrae did not look at all pleased.

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