“It’s even better exercise than galloping a horse cross-country.”
“I prefer fencing as a sport to fighting for one’s life, which tends to interfere with the entertainment value of swordplay,” he replied.
“Indeed it would!” she said fervently. From her expression, she was remembering the time they were attacked on the street when walking to Duval House.
The door to the academy opened and two men entered. The one in the lead was gaunt and scowling, with a red sore on his neck that was almost hidden by his hair. The man in his wake was shorter and milder looking.
Lucas would have barely noticed the new arrivals, except that the gaunt man stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of Kendra. “You!” he said incredulously. “You bitch! What are you doing here, dressed like a slut?”
Kendra’s face whitened. For a moment Lucas wondered if she was about to faint. But she collected herself and said with icy calm, “Given the women you consort with, Denshire, surely you know better what a slut looks like.”
“The way you’re dressed is scandalous! You’re a disgrace to your sex!” he spat out.
“Really?” Callie drawled. She and the other women drew closer to Kendra, pantaloons obvious, swords in hand, and expressions dangerous. “If anyone here is a disgrace to his sex, surely it’s you, Denshire. A fornicating fraud and a bully to boot.”
He sputtered incoherently, looking ready to strike someone, but he was outnumbered and out-armed. His friend put a hand on his arm and murmured something, perhaps a suggestion to leave, but Denshire shook the other man off. “I’m not leaving until I find out what that bitch has done with my son!”
CHAPTER 21
Kendra gasped at her former husband’s words. “What have I done with Christopher? Nothing! I haven’t seen him since you threw me out of your house and said my son was your property and I’d never see him again!”
“He’s vanished from the school I placed him in!” Denshire snarled. “If he didn’t drown himself in the river there, you must have taken him so you can turn him into a molly boy!”
“You lost my son!” Kendra said in a low, furious voice. Her sword ready in her right hand, she stalked toward her former husband, her expression murderous. “You treated him badly and put him in a school so vile that he must have run away. Dear God, what has happened to him?” With her left hand, she snapped off the protective button on the end of the blade.
Swearing, Denshire backpedaled. “Get away from me, you crazy bitch!”
Lucas took two swift steps to Kendra and caught her arm, immobilizing her. “He probably deserves killing, but not by you,” he said in a low voice. “Christopher will need you when we find him. You can’t be there for him if you’re imprisoned and hanged.”
She looked up at him, wildness in her eyes. “Kendra!” he snapped. “For everyone’s sake, don’t do this!”
The wildness faded. As she mastered herself, Denshire bolted from the academy, his friend at his heels. In the lacerating silence that followed, Athena said thoughtfully, “He really does deserve to be skewered. Perhaps the Fencing Females should have a drawing for the privilege?”
Her words produced a ripple of strained laughter. Kendra’s gaze moved around the circle of women. “Thank you for your support, my friends,” she said unsteadily. “I’ll take my leave now, but I hope to see you all next week.”
She donned her cloak, the length swirling around her scandalously beautiful legs. Lucas also grabbed his coat, pulling it on as she left the academy. When they were outside, he took her arm. “Slow down and breathe.”
“But Christopher might be dead! Denshire said that he might have drowned himself from misery,” she cried, on the verge of breaking down entirely. “Denshire doesn’t care about him beyond the fact that he’s the heir.”
A narrow alley ran between the buildings they were passing, so Lucas drew her into it, where they’d have the privacy for him to wrap her shaking body in his arms. “Christopher is your son,” he said quietly, feeling her anguish. “Can you imagine the boy you love taking his own life because school is so dreadful?”
She drew a slow breath and he felt some of her frantic tension ease. “No. No, he wouldn’t do that. He would run away and find a safe place to hide. Then he’d try to write me.”
“That sounds like what a clever boy would do,” Lucas agreed, stroking her back as he would soothe a nervous pet. “There might not even be a river. Denshire could have made that up just to upset you more.”
“That sounds like something he’d do,” she said, more of her tension fading. “He might even have lied when he said that Christopher had disappeared from his school, though his degree of anger at me implies that Christopher really is missing. If so, running away is by far the most likely explanation. I think Christopher would try to communicate with me, but I’m not sure he knows I’m at Thorsay House.”
“Communication will be difficult for him,” Lucas agreed. “But Christopher is surely out there somewhere, safe and trying to find his way home to you.”
“Dear God, I hope so!” she breathed.
“We will find him,” Lucas promised as he had before. “But brace yourself for some new information.”
When Kendra glanced up at him, he said, “Denshire has the French pox. Syphilis. That explains a great deal about why he’s become increasingly unstable in recent years.”
She stepped back, her expression appalled. “The French pox!” she exclaimed. “Why do you think that?”
“Did you see that red sore below his ear, almost covered by his hair? It looks like a gumma, a kind of soft tumor that’s a sign of the advanced disease,” he explained. “When I saw that, I looked more closely and saw some subtler signs as well.”
Kendra bit her lip. “Do I have it?”
“You don’t have any of the symptoms,” Lucas said reassuringly. “You told me that you haven’t lain with him for years, so it’s likely he contracted the illness after you separated.”
“I hope you’re right! For your sake as well as mine.” She closed her eyes, shuddering. “I’m so sorry. I . . . I would never have allowed any intimacy with you if I’d known I might carry the disease.”
“I know you wouldn’t have.” He raised a hand and tenderly brushed a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. “Because you have honor and Denshire does not.”
She gave a crooked smile. “He certainly doesn’t, but any honor I have is debatable.”
“You have honor,” he repeated. “And also amazing strength. You have been struck by one blow after another, yet you’re still standing.”
“More like leaning on you.” She took his arm and guided him from the alley. As they resumed their walk back to Thorsay House, she asked, “Aren’t you getting tired of the maelstrom that is my life?”
He remembered the colorless drifting that had been his life before meeting Kendra. “If not for your troubles, we wouldn’t have met again, and that would have been a great loss for me, though probably not for you.”
She gave him a swift, shy glance. “Not meeting you again would have been a very great loss for me.”
For a moment their gazes held, saying more than they wanted to admit aloud. The emotional moment was buried when she continued, “Without knowing where Christopher’s school is, it’s impossible to know where to start looking for him.”
“From what you know, the school had a particular reputation for discipline?” When she nodded, he continued, “That might narrow the search down some. We need an expert on British public schools. Simon and I both attended Harrow. There might be someone there who could give us some suggestions.”
“I hope so. I have no better ideas.” Her voice became tight. “Since Denshire does know the school’s location, he’ll know where to search.”
“If that’s the case and Denshire has men who locate Christopher, the worst that is likely to happen is that he’ll be sent back to the school, or possibly to Denshire Park,” Lucas said. “As heir to Denshire, he has
value. He won’t be injured.”
She smiled ruefully. “I know you’re right, but it’s a mother’s job to worry about her children.”
“And it’s a job you do very well,” he said solemnly.
She chuckled slightly. “Sadly true. I’m glad Caitlin is safe with her foster family.”
He could see her visibly girding herself to deal with this new worry. It was a trait he admired, given that he’d spent years in Belgium hiding from his problems.
When they reached Thorsay House, Kendra said, “Would you like to come in for tea? The Browns are out for the day, but Mrs. Brown left some of her excellent shortbread.”
Guessing that she wanted company, he said, “I’d like that,” and followed her into the house. The small entry hall had a table on one side with a basket for mail. There was only one letter, and Kendra frowned as she picked it up. “This is from Kirkland.”
“Let us hope for interesting news, and that we won’t need the tea to revive ourselves. Or worse, brandy!”
She smiled a little before she settled on the sofa and broke the seal of the letter. “Kirkland wants us to meet with him tomorrow for a strategy session. What do you think that means?”
Lucas considered. “My guess is that he’s uncovered some information and wants to discuss how to use it.”
“That makes sense. We have information for him as well.” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t see any reason to tell him about Caitlin. The more invisible she is, the better, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure Kirkland can be trusted to keep secrets, but as you say, there’s no reason to tell him about her.”
“I do need to tell him about Christopher’s disappearance. He might have more ideas about how to look for him. Did Kirkland attend Harrow or Eton? Those are the two elite gentlemen’s schools.”
“Neither. He went to the Westerfield Academy. It’s a very small and very good school for boys of good birth and bad behavior.”
“Kirkland studied there?” She glanced up with surprise. “I wonder what kind of bad behavior he indulged in. I’m having trouble imagining it.”
“He was probably planning to take over the Houses of Parliament or some such,” Lucas replied with a smile. “It wouldn’t have been anything trivial like gambling in the stables with the grooms.”
She laughed. “I wonder if I dare ask him?”
“Better you than I!”
The tea tray arrived and Kendra poured for both of them. The shortbread lived up to its reputation. Lucas was reaching for his third piece when a small knock sounded on the front door.
The Browns were still out, so Lucas rose and crossed into the hall to answer it. A small and very scruffy boy stood on the front step. A boy with chestnut hair and changeable eyes.
The boy said politely, “Is Lady Denshire here?”
At the sound of the boy’s voice, Kendra bolted in from the drawing room. “Christopher!”
“Mama!” The boy hurled himself into her arms and hugged her as if she was saving him from drowning.
Tears were rolling down Kendra’s cheeks as she whispered, “Oh, Kit, my darling boy! I was afraid I might never see you again.”
He was clinging to her like a limpet. “Papa said you were wicked and I should have nothing to do with you!”
“Your father was wrong,” Lucas said as he ushered them both toward the drawing room so he could close the front door.
Having been a small boy once himself, he asked, “Would you like tea and shortbread, Christopher?”
“Oh, yes, sir, please!” the boy said. “I’m starving!”
Kendra laughed and pulled him down on the sofa beside her, keeping one arm around him. “I’m happy to see that your appetite hasn’t changed! How did you get here?”
“The school was in Yorkshire and it was horrid.” Christopher took a piece of shortbread from the plate. Since Kendra had finished her tea, Lucas used her cup, guessing that the boy would prefer to have his tea quickly rather than to wait for a new cup to be delivered.
Christopher accepted the teacup, but his brows furrowed as he stared at Lucas. “Who are you, sir?”
“My name is Lucas Mandeville and I’m a friend of your mother’s,” he replied. “We met many years ago before I left for my first posting in the Royal Navy.”
“And a very good friend he has been.” Kendra’s arm tightened around her son’s shoulders. “I’ve needed friends since your father divorced me.”
Christopher took two more pieces of shortbread. “Divorce means never having to see him?”
“That’s one of the results of divorce.” She frowned. “I hadn’t seen your father in months, but I had a chance encounter with him earlier today. He was furious and accused me of having abducted you from your school.”
“I wish you had!”
“I would have if I’d known where you were,” she said fiercely. “But your father wouldn’t tell me what school you attended. You said it was horrid?”
The boy’s expression darkened. “The Scranton School. Bad food, bad boys, bad masters. It was always freezing cold. Beatings from bigger boys, canings by the masters.”
“It sounds dreadful!” Kendra said, appalled. “I’ve heard that boys’ schools are difficult, but I didn’t think they were that bad!”
“Few are that bad,” Lucas said grimly. “I’m not familiar with Scranton, but I gather Denshire wanted to put Christopher in an unusually harsh school on the theory that such places build strong men.”
“More likely they turn out brutes!” Kendra exclaimed. “Yet you escaped, Kit. How did you do it?”
Christopher grinned, looking very pleased with himself. “Instead of sleeping in a dormitory, I was locked into a separate little room every night. The only window was small, but so am I. I managed to steal a rope from the stables by wrapping it around me under my shirt. Then I took the money of the biggest bully in the school. I escaped out the window that night before he found it was gone.”
“Generally stealing isn’t a good idea,” Kendra said, bemused, “but it sounds as if it was necessary this time. What did you do after you escaped from your room?”
“I hiked to the nearest town. I had to sleep in the woods one night but at least it didn’t rain. From there I caught a coach to Leeds. In Leeds, I got the coach to London.”
“No one questioned why such a young boy was traveling alone?” Kendra said with surprise.
Her son looked impish. “I looked sad and said that my mother was very ill and I’d been ordered to come home. There was no one to come get me so I had to travel alone. I had enough money to pay for my tickets, so the coachies believed me. It was a long ride, but at each stage, nice women looked after me. One gave me a piece of the best currant cake.”
“Your mother said you were clever,” Lucas said admiringly, understanding why motherly women had been inspired to care for him. “She was right.”
“How did you know to come to Thorsay House?” Kendra asked.
“You brought me here once, remember? You introduced me to Mr. and Mrs. Brown and said this is kind of a family house. I thought you might be staying here and if you weren’t, they might know where you were.” He used his hand to cover an enormous yawn. “Mama, why are you dressed like a man?”
“I was fencing with some other ladies.” Kendra stood and made a pretend lunge. “Wearing pantaloons makes it possible to be a better fencer.”
Christopher accepted that explanation with a nod and covered another yawn.
“It’s time you went to bed, my lad. I’ll take you up to my room so you can get some sleep,” Kendra said.
The boy was tired enough that he didn’t protest. Kendra took his hand and led him away but said over her shoulder, “Can you stay, Lucas? I have some matters to discuss with you.”
He didn’t doubt it. And the top of the list would be deciding where Christopher could be kept safe.
CHAPTER 22
Christopher had grown in the months since she’d last seen him, and h
e seemed more mature as well. That wasn’t surprising given his experience at his horrid school and the challenges he’d overcome to find her in London. Should she tell him that he had a twin sister? No, it was too soon for that; her son had too many other changes to deal with. She’d wait until life calmed down.
When they reached her room, she hugged Christopher again. “You were so brave, Kit! Brave and clever both.”
His new maturity vanished as he burrowed against her and began sobbing. “Papa said the most awful things about you, Mama! He . . . he said you were a whore and wanted to turn me into a molly boy. I asked a boy at the school what ‘whore’ and ‘molly boy’ meant and he laughed in a mean way and told all the other boys and they started calling me a whoreson!”
Kendra thought savagely that if Denshire were here and she had a sword, she’d run him through. “That is absolutely not true, Christopher! For all the years of my marriage, I was a faithful and honorable wife.” That night with Lucas didn’t count because she was no longer married when they came together.
Kit’s voice dropped to a shaky whisper. “He . . . he said you didn’t want me anymore, but I didn’t believe him. Didn’t want to believe him! That’s why I had to find you again.”
Forget having a sword—if Denshire were here Kendra would kill him with her own hands. “That was a horrible lie! I was frantic when he took you away and told me I’d never see you again. More than anything on earth, I wanted to find you.” She drew a deep breath, thinking she should be calm and strong for her son. “Instead you found me. What a blessed day this is!”
“Why did he tell such lies?”
How to explain the end of a marriage to a child? Choosing her words carefully, she said, “He decided he didn’t want to be married to me anymore, Kit. The only way a man can divorce a wife is to say bad things about her. That’s what he was doing.”
Kit lifted his head. “How could anyone say bad things about you?”
As much as she loathed Denshire, she shouldn’t descend to his level. Remembering what Lucas had said about the French pox, she said, “I believe he has a disease that can affect a person’s mind and make him act differently than he used to.”
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