Chapter 15 At the Edge of Destiny #2
Elizabeth put on the glove she had used to slap Mr Darcy.
Mr Darcy donned his own glove and picked up his foil.
He asked to practice before their little contest. During Mr Darcy’s preparations, Ma?tre d’Orval murmured, folding his hands behind his back.
“Open with the attack, s’il vous pla?t. Provoke Monsieur Darcy.
Observe how he answers. He will hesitate.
A gentleman seldom fences a lady. You must exploit his unease. ”
“And if I land the first touch?” Elizabeth’s heart fluttered with excitement.
“Then press him. Attack in various lines until he parries. He will answer with a riposte. Expect it.”
“And what should I attempt, sir, when my attacks grow ineffective?”
A faint smile touched Ma?tre d’Orval’s lips. “Then, mademoiselle, you abandon the offensive. Yield the initiative. Let him come to you…and punish his confidence.”
Mr Darcy had the advantage of height and reach. Despite her petite size and smaller target area, Elizabeth would need speed, correct distance, and, most of all, wiliness to win against him.
Elizabeth executed the fencing master’s strategy to the best of her ability. Her lesson had reawakened her muscle memory of all the fencing actions she knew. But she had no memory of ever having fenced a male opponent before and was thus unsure whether she could prevail.
Elizabeth and Mr Darcy came to the piste already wearing their masks, faced off, and saluted. Ma?tre d’Orval said, “En garde! Allez!”
Elizabeth immediately executed a direct attack to Mr Darcy’s flank, using a deep lunge, and landed a hit. Mr. Darcy reacted by extending his arm, but too late. Ma?tre d’Orval awarded Elizabeth the first touch.
Mr Darcy would not allow her a second touch so easily. She again made a direct attack, this time to his shoulder. He parried and riposted, and it was Elizabeth’s turn to discover that he, too, could cover plenty of ground with his lunge. Ma?tre d’Orval awarded that touch to Mr Darcy.
Mr Darcy also scored the next touch, using his longer legs to propel himself forward and land an attack before Elizabeth could parry or retreat out of distance.
Elizabeth knew she ought to switch to defensive tactics, as Ma?tre d’Orval had told her, but decided to try a more complicated attack with disengage.
She first aimed towards Mr Darcy’s flank, as she had done with her successful touch, and skilfully disengaged around his attempt to parry.
She landed that touch on his chest. Mr Darcy’s expression through the metal mesh was dour.
Mr Darcy then scored two counter-ripostes in quick succession.
The second of these hits landed quite hard against Elizabeth’s sternum, and she gasped.
She was sure it would bruise. Mr Darcy attempted to stop the bout to apologise and ascertain whether she was injured, but Elizabeth waved off his concerns. Now was not the time to be missish.
Elizabeth remembered the master’s compliments on her septime and octave parries.
She raised her arm and stepped forward, attempting to draw Mr Darcy into attacking her in the low line.
He obliged, and she deftly retreated while taking an octave parry.
She was able to take advantage of his continued forward momentum to land her riposte.
On the next touch, Mr Darcy attempted to draw Elizabeth into repeating her use of octave, but instead she executed a flawless septime, riposted, and scored again.
Ma?tre d’Orval announced that the bout was even, and the next touch would carry the honours.
Having scored two defensive actions in a row, Elizabeth was tempted to try a third but decided an attack would surprise Mr Darcy more.
She attacked his flank, disengaging once to his chest, then back to his flank, and avoided his parry.
She stayed extended in a lunge with her blade bent, her point still firmly embedded in Mr Darcy’s jacket, so that the master could not miss seeing her touch.
Ma?tre d’Orval awarded Elizabeth the touch. “The bout is concluded. Mademoiselle Bennet has carried the assault.”
They had completed the match in less than five minutes.
Ma?tre d’Orval’s manner as he pronounced Elizabeth the winner was carefully neutral, lest he embarrass her wealthy, stunned gentleman opponent.
Pleased with herself, Elizabeth tried not to look smug.
When she and Mr Darcy shook each other’s ungloved, unarmed left hands, as was correct, Elizabeth felt a thrill.
She was keen to find out what Mr Darcy’s next move would be once they put down their foils and shifted from swordplay to the more subtle game of wordplay.
How would he handle losing to her? Would the marriage of their minds admit impediments?
Elizabeth removed the protective equipment, needing the master’s help to untangle the mask from her curls, and changed back into her walking boots.
As she bowed to both men, preparing to depart, Mr Darcy roused himself to speak. “Miss Bennet, may I accompany you back to Longbourn?”
Elizabeth replied good-naturedly, “I have no need of protection, sir. I believe you have just had a demonstration of that.”
“Indeed. I did not ask to accompany you for your protection but instead for the pleasure of your company.”
“As you wish, sir.”
As ever, Elizabeth walked quickly, matching Mr Darcy’s pace despite his longer legs.
Mr Darcy, having failed to disarm Elizabeth literally during their fencing match, apparently chose to do so figuratively. “You are looking extremely well, Miss Bennet. This morning’s exercise has brightened your complexion in a most becoming way.”
“Victory improves my appearance, apparently.”
Mr Darcy said, “Ah. Yes. Your movements were exceedingly graceful, but your treatment of your poor opponent is perhaps less so.”
She gave him a sharp look, intending to make another cutting remark, but thought better of it and laughed.
“Come now, Mr Darcy! I am a neighbour of your good friend, you know, and so we must mend fences. Mr Bingley would not want to hear you disparaging me.” Elizabeth realised she had no idea whether Mr Bingley had permanently abandoned Netherfield and wondered how she might find her place in the story, so to speak.
Her dreams lately had left her confused and disoriented, with Mr Darcy being the only common element in all of them.
She had learnt to keep her counsel and wait for others to give her clues, but it was exhausting.
“Please forgive me. I did not intend to insult such a noble opponent.” Mr Darcy continued. “How long have you been taking fencing lessons? You are quite skilled.”
“Ah, sir, your flattery is another tactic to disarm me!” Elizabeth hoped her evasive response would cover up the fact that she had no idea how long she had been fencing.
She was not yet ready to abandon her caution around Mr Darcy, not until he showed his own hand.
“And you, sir, how is it that I encountered you in a country fencing master’s salle in Hertfordshire?
Surely you are already accomplished with a foil? ”
“We all just returned to Netherfield last night. Bingley is, er, occupied with other matters today, and I managed to sneak away while Miss Bingley conferred with the housekeeper. During my previous stay at Netherfield, I came to the salle for exercise. Ma?tre d’Orval is widely known and highly regarded, even in Town. ”
“I had not expected Mr Bingley to return from London. I had heard he was considering giving up Netherfield.” Elizabeth hoped Mr Bingley’s return, with his unmarried sister still keeping house for him, would lead to a good resolution for Jane.
“It seems Bingley had some unfinished business here in Meryton that could not wait.” Mr Darcy changed the subject so quickly that Elizabeth suspected he wished to avoid a question about whether he had spoken to Mr Bingley about Jane.
“Miss Bennet, I have not seen you since Hunsford. How was your journey home? And have you been having pleasant dreams since then?”
The diversionary tactic worked. Elizabeth was relieved that he had decided to address the odd disturbances directly.
“Yes, Maria and I had an easy journey back to Meryton. As for my dreams … I believe I have experienced good dreams, terrifying ones, and everything in between. The most recent one was quite hopeful.”