Page 105 of To Love A Spy
She flexed her leg. “I’m not sure I’m still sharp enough to give you a fight.”
Da Rimini tossed her a padded doublet and assumed theen gardeposition. “Old habits die hard, Valencia.”
It was strange how life could come full circle. The angled light on the walls, the rough canvas quilting against her skin, the very ground beneath her boots brought back memories of her days at the Academy. She had come here as a wild and wary orphan, raging with anger at the world. And though she had learned so many life lessons within its walls, she had left with her body broken and her inner conflicts still unresolved.
And now?As she looked around, Valencia felt a profound sense of peace. Da Rimini was right—and wrong. Some thingswere impossible to change, and yet, she was living proof that one could learn from past mistakes.
She knew her strengths, forgave her weaknesses. But most of all, she understood what mattered most was heart, not steel. Forged in friendship, tested by trust, love was something worth fighting for.
Lynsley had made her whole again.
Her gaze met his, and warmth of his look curled her to her very core. No more questions. No more doubts. This was who she was meant to be.
“On second thought, Da Rimini, perhaps you ought to step aside and observe the action. The better to comment to the students.” The marquess tested the torque of his weapon. “I wouldn’t mind a match with the lady.”
The fencing master yielded his place. “Have a care,patron. This could be embarrassing.” He mimed a scissor-like snipping near his testicles. “My girls are trained to unman an opponent.”
“I’m no longer a girl,Lupino,” said Valencia. “Nor, for that matter, am I a lady.”
A corner of Lynsley’s mouth twitched up. “You will be by this time tomorrow.”
Stepping in toe to toe, she set her sword against his. “Ready when you are.”
“Contrapassura,” called Lynsley, sliding slowly to his left.
She countered with a whirlingcolpo mezano.
Picking up the pace, he tested her reflexes with a series of lightning slashes.
“You haven’t lost your touch,” said Da Rimini gruffly.
In answer, she shifted the sword to her left hand and angled a quick feint before flipping it back to her right,
“Bella, bella.” In a louder voice, he added. “See how she holds her weapon, class? Firm, yet relaxed, the fingers applying just the right amount of pressure. Pay close attention,signorinas!”he waggled a finger “For you girls, fencing is like sex—you must keep control of the man’s blade.”
“And then, at the first opening, we should hit a man in the bollocks, right?” called one of the students. “That will sap all the steel from his sword.”
Lynsley winced at the words. “Don’t even think about it,” he said to Valencia as he spun through amandritto.
“Il Lupinohas nothing to worry about!” called a voice from the rear ranks “I heard he lost his balls in a card game with a contessa and a cardinal in Milan.”
“Ten demerits!” warned Da Rimini. “Ten demerits to the next little bird who insults my manhood.”
Marco doubled over in mirth.
They fought on for another few minutes, neither gaining the upper hand.Il Lupinopaced the perimeter, keeping up a running commentary. The master class stared, spellbound. Lynsley’s training sessions had always taken place in private. They had never seen him display his prowess.
As word of the unusual duel spread like wildfire through the Academy, the classroom windows began to fill up with faces pressed to the mullioned glass. The third-year girls had all abandoned their archery practice and were perched on the top of the armory wall.
Da Rimini finally consulted his pocketwatch and rang the bell. “Graziefor the display, Valencia. With a little practice, you would be even better than in your student days.” The fencing master turned to the marquess. “Sopatron, have you decided who will wear the trousers in your family?”
“Maybe we’ll share,” replied Lynsley with a straight face. He toweled the sweat from his brow. “Or perhaps we should go mano a mano for the privilege.”
Valencia couldn’t resist a mischievous smile. “You are sure you wish to risk a blow to your manly . . . pride?”
“Oh, I think I am up for the challenge.”
“Suit yourself.” She looked down her nose at his sweat dampened linen and snug buckskins. “You will look quite silly walking down the corridors of Whitehall in your drawers.”
