Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Cassian sat across from Isabella in the house’s drawing room as they all sat with cups of tea in their hands. The conversations all started casually enough, but an awkward silence had soon descended when Isabella had given little to no input at all.
His grandmother and Lady Isabella’s mother slowly sipped their tea while exchanging loaded glances of concern.
Is she… angry at me?
A frown etched itself into Cassian’s brow as he stared back at her. It was becoming increasingly evident to him that there was a stand-off happening, yet he was not certain why.
He had said that he loved her, as he had been instructed to do. The overly zealous lady had believed him and granted them the license. What he did not understand was why she was angry at him about all of it.
Placing her cup a little too harshly in its saucer, Isabella forced a stiff smile that Cassian instantly saw through.
“Is something the matter, Lady Isabella?” He finally asked when the silence grew even thicker.
Letting out a huff, she pursed her lips before speaking. “Nothing at all, Your Grace. I was simply wondering if you would care to indulge me in a simple fencing match.”
“I beg your pardon.” He continued to frown at her, understanding even less than he had when silence had reigned in the room.
Her stepmother seemed to shift uncomfortably in her seat as she, too, began to frown.
His grandmother, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying whatever it was that was happening.
“I asked if you cared to challenge me in a friendly fencing match, Your Grace. We may use the wooden practice foils if you are scared of getting injured.” She suggested, nonchalantly.
Huffing with laughter, his grandmother tilted her head back before biting back her mirth under Cassian’s sharp glare.
“I am not concerned for my well-being, Lady Isabella. I am, however, concerned for yours. You have only just begun to learn the subtle art of fencing, while I, on the other hand, have been practicing for years.” He countered darkly.
“Not as much as you spend whittling away at those blocks of wood,” his grandmother added with raised eyebrows as she quickly averted her gaze and continued to sip her tea.
Cassian shot her another glare, yet he knew very well that it was a lost cause when she had made up her mind to be against him. “I do not think it is an appropriate activity, Lady Isabella. How many lessons have you attended? One?”
“Two,” she bit back sharply. “And if you are concerned for my safety, I can assure you that I am not, Your Grace. I am more than adequate with a foil. In fact, my instructor said I handle one beautifully, more so than any woman he has ever taught.” She graciously sipped her tea while challenging him with her gaze.
Is she teasing me?
He wondered if the subtle innuendos had been intended or not. “I will not be a fair match, Lady Isabella. Now, if you do not mind, I will consider the matter settled.”
“No,” she barked sharply just as he lifted his cup to his lips.
“No?” He began to grow more irritable with every passing exchange.
She squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. “I shall not accept no as an answer. If I am to enter this marriage, I wish to do so under my terms. At least, some of the terms, and my terms are that we enter on equal footing after displaying our skills with fencing.”
“Equal footing? And what if you do not win this match, will you then consider my sacrifice of saving your reputation enough equality for you?” He glowered at her, placing his cup and saucer back on the tray.
There would be no hope of finishing it until whatever scheme she had concocted had been satisfied.
She shrugged. “Perhaps, perhaps not, we shall not know until you indulge me in this little request.”
His patience had reached the end of its tether. “Very well, but I am warning you, Lady Isabella, that I shall not be inclined to go easy on you. If you wish to prove yourself, then I shall allow you that privilege and not hold back.”
Her lips curved into a mischievous smile that unnerved him slightly. “Oh, I am counting on it, Your Grace. I do not wish you to hold back in any way, shape, or form.” She sipped the last of her tea and placed the cup and saucer triumphantly back on the tray.
His grandmother sat silently watching the two, her expression unreadable as she chewed the inside of her cheek.
Isabella’s stepmother, on the other hand, did not seem pleased at all; in fact, her face had tensed with a deeply etched look of concern.
Cassian swooped his foil through the air a few times as the steady zing filled his ears. He stood to the side of the hall while his grandmother helped Isabella into her protective garments and whispered something he could not hear.
They kept glancing at him between whispers, but he did not allow the divided loyalty to sway him.
He was about to make his way to the center of the hall when Isabella’s stepmother, the Duchess of Ironstone, halted him.
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but I was wondering if I could have a word.” She glanced over his shoulder at Isabella, who seemed to be too focused to be paying them much attention.
He nodded before following her to the other side of the hall, where they were utterly alone and completely out of earshot. “You need not be concerned, Duchess. I shall go easy on Lady Isabella, despite what I said in the drawing room.”
Her face tensed a little as she looked back at him with a frown. “That is exactly what I do not want you to do.”
“Oh. I am not certain that I grasp your concerns. You do not wish me to hold back for her safety?” His confusion only doubled at the turn of the conversation.
All of the women in his life seemed hell-bent on testing his patience, and Isabella’s stepmother was not proving to be the exception to that rule.
Her face grew even more pensive as she sighed. “Isabella has always given her all to everything that she has set her mind to. She knows her limits, and she enjoys pushing them. If you allow her to win, or even hold back, she will know. And that will make her even angrier.”
“If I may ask, Duchess, why is it that she is angry with me? Was there something that I missed? I would have thought that the meeting with the Queen’s companion had gone quite satisfactorily. We did gain the special permission after all.”
Hanging her head, the Duchess of Ironstone placed her hands on her hips. “There is a great deal that you seemed to have missed, Your Grace. If you do not mind me being impertinent.” She lifted her gaze again with a sympathetic glint in her eyes.
“You may as well, it does not seem as if anyone else minds,” he grumbled.
She sighed again with a light smile this time.
“You may not know why Isabella is angry, but I do. Do not hold back, even if that means that she loses. You do not know me, but I am asking for your trust, Your Grace. Isabella needs to know that you are not holding back. I may only be her stepmother, but I do know her.”
He examined her closely for a moment, noting the sincerity in her eyes, before nodding. “Very well. I may not understand, but I shall not hold back.”
“Are you ready, Your Grace?” Isabella called to him from across the hall.
Turning around, Cassian had to stop himself from laughing when he caught sight of her in the padded shirt, overly large gloves, and mesh mask.
It was the dress billowing out from the bottom that added most of the comical effect, but he took the Duchess of Ironstone’s words to heart and closed the distance between them.
He stopped a few feet away from her, as was proper for a fencing match.
“And you promise not to hold back?” She asked, her voice slightly muffled from the mask.
Slicing his foil through the air, Cassian crossed his arm over his chest and nodded. “You have my word, Lady Isabella. I shall treat you in the exact same manner that I treat all of my opponents, regardless of sex.” His last word seemed to throw her off a little as she cleared her throat.
Yet she seemed to recover quickly enough as she nodded and took up her stance, holding her foil in a defensive pose as she began to circle.
Cassian had to admit that she was better than he had imagined. Her footwork was decent, and she managed to outstep him a few times with the first few thrusts, parrying them with skilled precision.
“I must hand it to you, Lady Isabella. You are far more skilled than I imagined.”
His words only seemed to egg her on as she parried with force, almost stumbling as he stepped out of her way with ease.
She caught herself just in time, regaining her footing as she turned back to him with labored breaths. “Good, you are not allowing me to win.”
“I promised that I would not, didn’t I?” He raised his foil toward her, holding his free hand above his head in a challenge.
Isabella was just about to join again when the doors to the hall suddenly opened. “Oh, for goodness sake, who is it?” She complained quite loudly, turning toward the disruption.
The butler entered apologetically, carrying a silver tray toward his grandmother.
“I think it is the special license,” Cassian explained.
“Oh, I forgot about that…” Her eyes followed the tray as his grandmother accepted the letter.
“You forgot about that? How could you forget about the entire first half of this day? Was it not the reason that we ended up here in the first place?” He wanted to laugh again, but instantly picked up on the serious tone in her voice.
“I have more important matters to occupy my time,” she said sharply, turning back to him and raising her foil.
His grandmother’s voice cut through the air just as they were about to start again. “The Duchess and I would like to have another cup of tea while you finish your match, dearest. Will you come and join us when you are done?”
Cassian nodded.
The other ladies left the hall, closing the doors behind them.
Isabella wasted no time in parrying forward, her steps quick and immaculate as she unleashed her fury on him.