SoundsofLove (17 page)

Jimmy came up beside her and took her hand. “Are you all
right, milady?”

She nodded with tears in her eyes. “Thanks to all of you, I
am.”

“I’m ever so glad you’re not hurt.”

“No,” she said as she touched her jaw. She looked at her
fingertips and saw the cut had already stopped bleeding. “It’s only a scratch.”

The boys were returning down the alley when she thought to
ask, “Why did you come looking for me?”

“The others wanted to know, milady. Did the earl choose all
of our shoes himself, or did he have one of his servants do it?”

Tears mixed with laughter as she answered. “Unless I’m sadly
mistaken, Jimmy, you can all ask him yourself very soon.”

Cathryn knocked shakily on Fiona Aubrey’s front door an hour
later, and she insisted on being escorted to Master Aubrey’s studio, despite
the class that was in session. She had two reasons for feeling entitled to
intrude in this way: Fiona’s behavior with Julian had irked her since she
entered the guest room the night before, but the fencer’s troops at the
poorhouse had been a blessing. Somehow, she felt Fiona would want to know about
the incident, but that was not why she had come straight from the facility. Her
inept reaction to the attack ate at her.

The clang of metal swords and the smell of sweaty men
welcomed her to Fiona’s den. Her heart raced as she considered interrupting the
master. A footman preceded her through the doors and Master Aubrey could be
heard above the din. “This had better be important, Milton.”

“This lady insists on seeing you, Master Aubrey.”

Cathryn stepped around him into the room, and a collective
gasp went up from the small group of men in attendance.

Fiona strode in a most unladylike manner to the doorway,
handing her foil to a waiting attendant and whipping her facemask off. “Has
something happened to Julian?” A cloud of blonde hair settled around the
master’s black-clad shoulders and reached past the belt of her scandalous
trousers. The three men who had been fencing stopped and stared, and the ones
watching the lesson now had a new focus.

Cathryn rushed to reassure her. “No, he’s resting at
Ahlquist House.”

Fiona stopped in front of her and stood akimbo. “Why are you
here?” Cathryn raised her chin and Fiona’s eyes darted to her jaw. “You’ve been
cut.”

“I need to learn to defend myself. Your troops saved me
today.”

The master’s eyes opened wide. “You were attacked at the
poorhouse?”

The men edged closer and Cathryn dropped her voice. “Hedges.”
Her hands began to shake at the memory and tears flowed down her cheeks,
although she did not sob.

“
Merde
,” Fiona swore softly in French. Glancing
behind her at her class, she seemed conflicted by her responsibilities.

Rune Darbonne stepped forward, wearing white fencing
leathers like the other men. “Lady Sibley, have you been hurt?” He came to
Cathryn’s side and hovered protectively.

She faced him through a veil of tears. “Only my pride.” She
turned back to Fiona and summoned her courage. “Please, teach me to use a
dagger.”

“No,” the woman replied coldly as she turned away. “A dagger
is too dangerous in untrained hands. It would be used on you.” She scanned the
students of her class before she returned her gaze to Cathryn. “How tall was
your attacker?”

“Hedges? I’m not certain…” She held her hand up over her
head.

“Six feet,” answered Rune as he looked at her jaw intently. “He
did this?”

“Yes, someone at the house told him where I’d be.”

“And Violet?” he said with a panicked look.

“She had a migraine. I suppose she’s still home.”

“Alone?” The man paled.

“There’s staff, of course.”

He turned to Fiona, clearly conflicted. “With your
permission, Master Aubrey. I would like to check on Mrs. Pickering’s
well-being.” His concern was heartwarming, and Cathryn relaxed a smidgen.

“You would be well served to remain for Lady Sibley’s short
lesson. Hedges is unlikely to storm a house, and you could escort the baroness
home.”

He hesitated and then nodded. “I would like to see what you
teach her.”

Fiona faced her class, now clustered along the side wall. “You
may all stay if you promise me one thing.” The men nodded as a group, and
Cathryn was impressed by their blind faith. “You will teach your wives,
mistresses and daughters what you are about to learn.” Her eyes narrowed. “Your
word?”

“Yes, Master Aubrey,” came a chorus of male voices, and
Cathryn could see they had tremendous respect for the woman.

“Very well,” she said as she walked back to Cathryn. “We’ll
have our first lesson right now.” She reached in her pocket and extracted a
ribbon she used to tie her hair back.

A footman took Cathryn’s brown cloak and bonnet, and she
felt rather exposed under the men’s appreciative stares. Fiona was beautiful,
but she looked like a thin young boy in her trousers and man’s shirt.

“Darbonne, Highland, to the middle of the room.” The master
glanced at the men as she spoke.

“Yes, Master,” both men said at once as they strode to the
center of the floor. Highland was about six feet tall and stockier than Rune.

Fiona’s small hand grabbed Cathryn’s gloved one, and she
urged her into the room, saying quietly along the way. “I’m sorry you were
attacked. I’m glad you’ve come.” She winked at her and smiled wickedly. “And
this time, I mean it.”

The woman was shameless. Cathryn couldn’t resist a smile in
return.

“Stand here.” Fiona positioned Cathryn in front of Rune. Her
demeanor hardened as she began to speak in a loud, clear voice. “A weapon
should never be your first choice. What is the first line of defense?”

“Avoid the confrontation, Master Aubrey,” chanted the group,
startling Cathryn.

Fiona began her lecture. “Be aware of your surroundings at
all time, don’t daydream in public, stay with a group, run if you can. Your
first defense is to avoid an encounter. Is that clear?”

Cathryn nodded mutely.

“Respond so I can hear you.”

“Yes, Master Aubrey,” she said in small voice.

“Louder next time,” Fiona said as she turned away. “Your
second line of defense?” she asked the room.

“Your wits, Master Aubrey,” came the reply from the class.

“Talk your way out of trouble whenever possible, and if the
enemy is irrational, do what you must to distract or dissuade them. Sometimes
fainting can be more effective than screaming.” She twisted to face Cathryn. “There
have been books written on the subject, I will lend you one. Do you understand
my meaning?”

“Yes, Master Aubrey,” Cathryn said, louder but still
ladylike.

“Can you see where you might have done that today?”

Cathryn was confused and she shook her head.

“I want you to ponder on your attack and think where you
might have used what you will learn today.” She glanced up at Darbonne and then
back to Cathryn. “I’ve long intended to have a defense class for women. You may
bring Mrs. Pickering.” She turned to her students. “Friday morning at ten.
Bring a lady you care for and I shall send her home with you better prepared
for the world.”

The men nodded and Cathryn realized these were Julian’s
friends. The thought gave her comfort.

“Unfortunately, most attackers are degenerates with profit
as their only motive, and the first two lines of defense work only when there
has been a true engagement. There is no shame in being the victim of a ruthless
adversary who uses unscrupulous means to overpower you.” Fiona spoke evenly,
but Cathryn sensed the deep emotion in her voice was grounded in experience. “Do
you understand?”

Cathryn joined the men in the chorus, relieved at the
exoneration she and Julian had been granted. “Yes, Master Aubrey.”

“Very well.” Fiona rubbed her hands together as she came to
stand beside Cathryn, facing Darbonne and Highland. “Your best weapon is what
you have with you at all times—your body.” She motioned for Highland to come
closer. “Grab me as if you mean to hurt me.”

He stepped closer but did not move to touch her. “I won’t
hurt you, Kendal,” she assured him as she urged him towards her with a flick of
her fingertips. “Come slowly if you like.”

The big man held out his arms to grab her and the master
snapped her head up under his chin, stopping as she made contact. He recoiled
slightly but held her arms as she spoke. “Whether you’ve been grabbed from the
front or from behind, slamming your head into an attacker’s face or windpipe
will cause great pain.” She held the man in place as she demonstrated how she
might have used her forehead on his windpipe.

Cathryn glanced at Rune watching intently. She supposed she
would be practicing on him and was glad it was someone she knew and trusted.

“Also, a bite will hurt no matter where it’s placed.” The
slight woman leapt up and bit her opponent’s earlobe in a move Cathryn knew she
could never repeat. The large man released her and stepped back with a gasp.

“That didn’t hurt, Highland,” Fiona commanded. She turned
her back on him as if his pain was inconsequential. “Grab me from behind.”

Kendall looked very uncertain but he slowly stepped towards
her and wrapped his arms around her. She snapped her head back and hit his nose
squarely. Even Cathryn grimaced at the look of pain on his face as he stumbled
back.

“You need only a light tap well placed to take down most
men.” Fiona gave Kendall a look of disgust. “I barely touched you.” She scanned
the rest of the class. “Berber, replace Highland. It seems he has a low
tolerance for pain.”

Cathryn felt sorry for both men, as a chagrined Highland
went to the sidelines, and a terrified Berber took his place.

“All right, Lady Sibley, show me what you’ve just learned
using Mr. Darbonne as your adversary.”

Cathryn smiled up at Rune.

He gave her a brave look. “Give me your worst, Lady Sibley.
I can handle myself,” he assured her.

“Move slowly as you practice,” Fiona advised as she circled
the couple. “Grab her, Darbonne.”

Rune looked foreign in his fencing leathers, and when he
lifted his arms and moved towards her, Cathryn felt she was in a surreal drama.
She failed to respond as he enfolded her in his strong arms.

“No, no, no!” Fiona
yelled. “Act quickly and forcefully! Don’t just stand there! Again.”

Rune backed away, saying, “It’s all right. You won’t hurt
me.”

“Hurt him!” Fiona cried. “Bash his face with your head, bite
his arm, do something!”

Rune rushed at her this time and Cathryn responded as she
had seen Fiona do, by snapping her head up under his jaw. It stung the top of
her head, and seemed to have the desired effect on her assailant, because he
released her with a look of surprise as he wiggled his jaw.

“Well done, Lady Sibley.”

Fiona clapped her hands. “Excellent. Now you have the chance
to run away.”

“Shouldn’t I try to hit him?” Cathryn balled her hand into a
fist and held it up.

“No, don’t punch. That’s more likely to hurt you instead of
your opponent. No, a woman should use her hands for grabbing and nails for
tearing at soft flesh to inflict maximum pain.” Fiona faced Mr. Berber and
lunged at him, capturing his head in her hands, with her thumbs on his temples
very near his eyelids. “Thumbs in the eyes is always an effective maneuver.”

Berber appeared to be praying as she released his head.

Cathryn glanced at Rune and smiled at the pained look on his
face. “I shall practice that on my china doll, Mr. Darbonne.”

Fiona clapped again. “We only have a few minutes.” She
positioned herself with her back to Berber. “Grab me.”

He quickly complied and she elbowed him in the abdomen with
enough force to send him to the floor. She ignored his posture as she spoke to
Cathryn. “The key to using your elbow or forearm is to twist at the waist and
throw all your weight into hitting the ribs or throat.” She put her own arms
around Cathryn from behind, and Cathryn gave a weak blow with her elbow that
did not budge the slight form.

“Twist and use all your weight.” Fiona released her but
immediately grabbed her again.

Cathryn responded with all her force and felt a thrill of
accomplishment as Fiona backed away with a sharp exhale.

“Better.” The master straightened and all eyes were glued to
her face, which remained expressionless, as if she bore such pain on a daily
basis.

She took a deep breath as she approached Berber and placed
her hands on his shoulders. “A woman’s legs are the strongest part of her body,
and the kneecap can do unthinkable damage when brought up between an attacker’s
thighs.” She slowly raised her knee and pressed it between his legs. Terror
crossed his chubby features but he kept a straight face, and she pushed him
away from her as he fell lightly to the ground. “Stand aside to let them fall
or you could be trapped under their weight.” She nudged him with the tip of her
boot and he got to his feet. “Good acting, Berber, but even I know not to play
loose with a man’s privates.”

She glanced at the rest of the class, who looked relieved
for him. “I may be ruthless, but I know where to draw the line with my friends.”

She wouldn’t have a class if she didn’t, Cathryn thought as
she scanned the line of fine gentlemen.

Fiona looked at the clock on the wall. “One last item. Your
feet.” She held up her booted foot to Berber’s leg. “Use the ball of your foot
to kick an attacker’s ankle or shin,” she said as she demonstrated in slow
motion.

In a quick, graceful movement, she turned and wrapped his
arms around her waist so he held her from behind. “Use your heel to stomp down
on their instep.” Her boot came down with a hard slam half an inch from his,
and everyone in the room jumped. “That move is particularly effective if done
with proper force.”

She might have broken his foot if she’d made contact.

“Be mentally prepared to defend yourself, Lady Sibley,
that’s half the battle.” She clapped her hands again. “Class is over. I expect
to see you and your lady friends at ten on Friday morning. Send a note if you
cannot attend.”

Cathryn realized she was speaking to the entire class, and
she smiled at the look of horror on many of the men’s faces. “Thank you, Master
Aubrey. I believe you’ve given me more than I asked for, but precisely what I
need.”

Fiona held out her hand. “We’re even then.”

Cathryn took her hand and smiled. “Not in the least.”

Rune’s head snapped around at her comment, and Fiona glared.