SoundsofLove

by Marilyn Kelly

  The classroom door flew open with a thud, and Jimmy led a pack of young boys into the room. “Lady Sibley,” he yelled eagerly. “The others want to know…” His voice trailed off as he took in the assault in front of him. “Lady Sibley?”

  Cathryn sobbed with relief at the interruption.

  “Be gone, the lot of you,” Percival said as he dropped her skirts and lowered the knife. “This is my wife. Be gone.”

  Jimmy glanced back and forth between Cathryn and the baron, and then he shook his head. “You shouldn’t hurt a lady.” Cathryn sobbed again, and half the lads lifted their wooden swords, a look of fear and exhilaration lighting their small faces.

  Cathryn shoved the baron with all her force. Caught by surprise, he tumbled backward, dropping his blade as he fell towards the gang of young swordsmen. She expected they would scatter, but they held their ground. When the man scrambled to his feet, trying to hide his rapidly waning erection, the first line of swords thrust towards him and two made contact with his chest.

  “Be gone, you little bastards.” He struggled to conceal himself.

  “Attack!” yelled one boy and the ensuing fracas was deafening. High-pitched battle cries echoed throughout the room. Cathryn covered her ears as she watched in amazement. The boys pummeled Percival, and he was unable to defend himself against so many swinging sticks. He bolted towards the door and threw it open with a loud crash.

  The crowd of banging swords followed him out into the alley and Cathryn was close behind. He howled in pain as he climbed into the waiting carriage and struggled to close the door. He waved his fist out the window of the vehicle as it began to move, and the horde of boys moved with him until the coach entered the busy traffic at the end of the alley.

  Cathryn stood at the doorway, catching her breath as she watched her uncommon rescuers soundly defeat the fleeing nobleman.

  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.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  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.

  Cathryn continued her smile, which held a hint of victory. “I believe you owe me half a bottle of brandy.”

  Master Aubrey’s glower reversed in an instant, and she burst out laughing. “I do indeed, Lady Sibley. I have a fine bottle we could share sometime.”

  Cathryn nodded, relieved the woman had taken her comments with good humor, and determined to hold the ground she had gained. “Sometime soon, I think.”

  Rune escorted Cathryn to a hired carriage and climbed in beside her. “Lord Ahlquist will want to see you. You wouldn’t want him hearing of your assault from someone else.”

  Cathryn glanced down at her soiled burgundy day dress. She wanted to bathe and change.

  Darbonne seemed to read her mind. “I’ll go check on Violet, and she can have a few items packed for you. Ahlquist is going to want you under his roof.”

  “Yes, thank you. I think you’re correct.” She did want to see him, quite desperately now that the time approached. “Vi will know what I need.”

  “Until we know who betrayed you—” His concern was touching, and she had few allies in London.

  “She’s welcome at Ahlquist House as well, of course. Please ask her to spend the night there.” His face relaxed and she continued, “It may have been an innocent mistake. Percival is now a baron, and I did not instruct the new staff to refuse him.”

  “I’ll question the staff while Violet packs.”

  “Thank you, Rune.” She smiled at him. “I’ll warrant Ahlquist House has a room for you, as well. I’ll ask Julian for you.”

  His face brightened. “Thank you, Cathryn. Ahlquist did mention a spare room, and the club has become rather drab since I met Violet.”