Page 62 of A Winter By the Sea
“Yes.” Again Charles glanced at Emily before turning back to Mr. Thomson. “Still fencing?”
“Occasionally. I have little time to practice these days. And few worthy opponents.”
“Have foils with you?”
“I have.”
Charles held his gaze. “Then I may take you on while I’m here.”
———
After a few more moments of tense conversation, Charles left, and Emily asked, “How do you two know each other?”
“We were at university together,” Mr. Thomson replied. “And you? An acquaintance from home, you said?”
“Yes, we grew up near one another. Neighbors. Family friends.”
Mr. Thomson looked away and his eyes seemed to harden. “The young lady from home...”
“Excuse me?”
He made no reply, simply staring into the distance.
“And you were at Oxford together?” she asked.
“Balliol College, yes.”
“Were you ... friends?”
His eyes narrowed. “Not exactly.”
“Enemies?”
He shook his head. “Rivals.”
“In fencing?”
He hesitated, then gave a terse nod.
“And which of you was the better swordsman?”
“Parker was always the victor. On the fencing strip and off.”
His stern expression and clipped voice spurred her to ask, “Was he not well-liked? I always imagined he was.”
“Forgive me. I did not intend to suggest otherwise. He was well-liked. Respected. Admired.”
“But not by you?”
“I did admire him, until...”
“Until he began to best you in fencing?” she teased.
He remained serious. “No, Miss Summers. And I did not begrudge his triumphs ... in most things.”
She stared at him. “Whatever do you mean?”
Again he remained quiet.
