Once Dishonored Read online

  It was a serious question that deserved a serious answer, so Kendra thought hard about what she would be facing. Walking into the ball the night before had taken all her anger and resolution. She’d almost turned away from the front door, and she would never forget the searing humiliation of standing in the middle of the dance floor being treated as a monster, with loathing stares and whispered insults.

  But daring to attend that ball had brought her an amazing ally, and Lucas had brought her here, where she had found kindness and understanding and hope. She raised her chin. “For the last months, I’ve been hiding like a fox gone to ground. It is time for me to come out and fight for justice. I know it will not be easy, but I am prepared for what will come.”

  “You’ll need an escort,” Lucas said thoughtfully. “I’d be happy to take on that role. I’m not welcome everywhere either, but at least we can face cuts direct together.”

  Suzanne smiled, but said, “People will assume you’re lovers. I don’t think that will help rebuild Kendra’s reputation.”

  “But we’re not lovers.” Kendra looked at Lucas and their gazes caught with a force that startled her. She had no interest in remarrying, even if she were legally free to do so, but she was suddenly, sharply aware of Lucas’s physicality. He had the lean masculine strength of a warrior and the compassion of a healer, and for the first time ever the idea of taking a lover was appealing.

  Startled and uneasy at her reaction, she jerked her gaze away from him. “Perhaps we can be cousins. Not first cousins, but close enough that it would be believable for Lucas to wish to support me. Second cousins, perhaps. Once removed.”

  “We’ll have to work out how we’re related,” Lucas said. “Who knows? We might actually be cousins of some degree. I have some Scottish ancestors who might be connected to your Scottish family, and that would be harder to disprove.”

  Kendra felt some of her tension unwinding. The challenges ahead would be easier to face if she had Lucas at her side. How did that come to seem so natural?

  Suzanne stood. “I shall leave you three to your strategizing. It’s time I fed Madeline.”

  Many women of rank preferred to use wet nurses, but Kendra had chosen to nurse her child, and obviously Suzanne was doing the same. She asked, “May I meet her?”

  “I should be pleased to introduce you,” Suzanne said with a smile. “Though I warn you, she hasn’t much conversation!”

  Kendra laughed and got to her feet. “I’ll be down shortly, but in the meantime, here is the list of potential witnesses and all the details of that night that I can remember.” She’d spent a long time developing that list and making fair copies. She handed two of the copies to Lucas and Simon, then followed Suzanne up the stairs.

  The nursery was two stories above, softly lit with a single lamp. A maid was quietly knitting in a wooden rocking chair, but she rose at the entrance of the two women. “Mistress Madeline is ready for her supper, and I’m ready for my cup of tea!”

  Suzanne chuckled and waved the girl out, then bent over the beautifully carved crib and lifted her tiny daughter out. Madeline smiled sleepily and gave a yawn. She had dark hair like both her parents, a pale pearlescent complexion, and she might develop green eyes like her mother. “She’s beautiful,” Kendra said softly.

  “We like to think so,” Suzanne said with a smile. “I love knowing that this crib has been in Simon’s mother’s family for many years. Simon, his mother and aunt, and generations before were cradled here.”

  Kendra brushed her fingertips over the dark polished wood, imagining all the sweet babies who had slept in its shelter. “How lovely to have such a family history for your child.”

  “Yes, particularly since there is nothing left of my own family heirlooms.” Suzanne settled into the low rocking chair and unfastened the bodice of her gown. Her garments were cleverly designed to open so she could nurse her baby. “She’s only a month old. She was born a little early, but healthy, as you see.”

  “What a miracle a baby is!” Kendra said as she sat in the other chair. “I can scarcely remember when Christopher was so small.”

  “We’ll find him,” Suzanne said calmly as she drew her daughter to her breast. “His father will have a care for his heir if not for him as an individual.”

  “I tell myself that.” Kendra drew a deep, calming breath. “Suzanne, why did you accept my story so quickly? I myself might have trouble believing such an outrageous tale from a strange woman.”

  Suzanne leaned back in the chair and patted her daughter’s back. “Lucas brought you here and he is seldom wrong about people. Also . . .” She hesitated before continuing. “I was on a ship captured by Barbary pirates and was then enslaved in the harem of an extremely unpleasant Turkish official. I know a great deal about how men can abuse women. Women in dire straits need other women.”

  Kendra guessed that Suzanne’s bare description of her captivity concealed an ocean of pain that her new friend had no desire to discuss. “I’m glad your experiences have made you kind, not angry, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You and your husband both.”

  “Simon was a soldier. He has seen much of the dark side of life, and he also trusts Lucas’s judgment.” Suzanne smiled. “I was an only child, and I’m so glad that I acquired a brother when I married Simon.”

  “I’m so glad I braved the Clantons’ ball, because doing that brought me here.” Kendra rose from her chair. “I’ll leave you to your daughter. This time in a baby’s life is so sweet, and they grow so quickly.”

  Suzanne grinned. “I know, but with luck, there will be another baby or two in our futures.”

  Kendra hoped that for Suzanne and wished she could see such a future for herself.

  * * *

  Lucas looked up when he heard Kendra’s footsteps coming down the stairs. When she joined the men in the drawing room, he was struck by how different she appeared from the first time he’d seen her. She still wore black and she had the same queenly bearing, but she no longer looked angry and desperate. Now she looked . . . determined.

  She gestured for them to stay in their seats as they started to rise at her entrance. “No need to get up. Has the strategy session been productive?”

  Simon nodded. “I have some acquaintance with one of the three men who testified against you. Hollowell seems like a reasonable fellow. If presented with sufficient evidence, he might change his mind about what happened that night. Perhaps the other men are also reasonable.”

  Kendra cocked her head thoughtfully. “If the woman who masqueraded as me can be found and persuaded to tell the truth, she might be able to provide intimate details that could convince him that she was the woman he bedded, not me.”

  “That’s a very good idea,” Lucas agreed. “I hope your Kirkland can find the woman.”

  “His ability to learn things is legendary.” Simon looked at a different list. “On the social side, I’ve been looking at upcoming entertainments to find ones given by friends who might be supportive. Also, as Suzanne said, she can arrange for you to meet influential women who might be sympathetic to your cause.”

  “I’ve been thinking of how to present myself,” Kendra said. “I’ve been wearing black, in mourning for the death of truth. Would red be better since I’m considered an outrageous woman?”

  Lucas had a brief, dazzling vision of Kendra in scarlet, blazing like a passionate flame. He swallowed hard. “I think black is better because it’s serious and suits your situation. Also, you look good in black.”

  “That makes sense. Very well, I shall not wear colors. I had a mourning wardrobe made up when my grandfather died so I’m well prepared.” She covered a yawn. “It’s time for me to return to Thorsay House.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Lucas said as he stood.

  She gave him a sweet, tired smile. “Having been attacked on the way here, I welcome your escort.”

  Simon also rose. “I’ll come as well in case the villains who attacked earlier are still out th
ere and annoyed.”

  As Lucas helped her into her cloak, Kendra said hesitantly, “We discussed my going to public places. Are you familiar with Angelo’s Fencing Academy?”

  “We both learned to fence there,” Lucas replied. “The Angelos’ teaching methods were far superior to any instruction we have had in the navy or army.”

  “What I learned there saved my life more than once.” Simon considered. “Many times more than once.”

  “Are you interested in visiting there because they give fencing lessons to women?” Lucas asked.

  “Yes! When I was a girl and visited Thorsay, my cousin Ramsay gave several of us girls fencing lessons when none of the adults were around to say we couldn’t. I enjoyed it, and fencing is splendid exercise.”

  “Shall we go tomorrow?”

  Kendra glowed at him. “Yes, please!”

  Lucas felt that glow right to his marrow. The effect was—interesting.

  “Do you mind if I join you?” Simon asked. “It’s been a good many years since you and I crossed swords, Lucas.”

  “So it has, and I’m sure you’re much more in practice than I. But I’d enjoy it,” Lucas said. “Would you mind having both of us, Kendra?”

  “Not at all.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “I feel blessed to have found such friends and allies.”

  Lucas had felt much the same when Simon and Suzanne had opened their homes and hearts to him. He was glad that he could offer that kind of support to Kendra.

  The return to Thorsay House was uneventful. Kendra walked between Lucas and Simon, but Lucas’s arm was the one she held. She thanked both men graciously when they reached her destination and they set a time for the next day.

  The moon had set and the streets were dark, but peaceful. They were about halfway home when Simon remarked, “You’re whistling.”

  Lucas blinked. “I am?”

  “Kendra Douglas is lovely and interesting,” Simon said, amusement in his voice. “Is the friar part of you fading away?”

  “If you’re asking if I find her attractive, the answer is yes,” Lucas admitted. “It’s a pleasure to rediscover masculine appreciation of the fair sex. But if you’re asking if I feel more than that, the answer is of course not. Her life is in turmoil and she’s made it clear that she has no interest in men as more than friends and possible allies. If she can find her Christopher, she’ll probably disappear with him, never to be seen in England again.”

  “True,” Simon said thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t blame her if she leaves the country with her son, but I hope it doesn’t come to that. She’s a strong woman, and if she can prove her case, it will surely benefit more women in the future.”

  No doubt Simon was right, but Lucas wasn’t particularly concerned about women in the future.

  He was concerned about Kendra now.

  CHAPTER 8

  How long had it been since Kendra had looked forward to a new day as she did on this day? She was ready and waiting when Lucas wielded the knocker at Thorsay House.

  He smiled at her, looking as if he was anticipating the day as well. “Because of the rain, we decided to travel by carriage.” His gaze moved to her divided skirt. “That’s your fencing costume?”

  “I had this outfit made for riding astride,” she explained as he helped her into her cloak. “I grew up in Northumberland, you know, and we northerners are much less formal than southerners. I like riding astride, and I like the freedom of movement I have with divided skirts, so I had this one made in mourning black after my grandfather’s death. I hope you’re not offended?”

  “Not at all,” he said as he held the door open for her. “I respect practicality.”

  “I’m looking forward to learning how to use a sword properly,” she said as they descended the steps to the waiting carriage. “It could be useful if Denshire comes near me!”

  “Not advised except for self-defense,” he said firmly. “But it’s never a bad thing to know how to defend one’s self.”

  They reached the light carriage and he helped her inside, where they sat opposite Simon. There was enough space for the three of them, but only just, which meant her leg and Lucas’s were touching, a fact she tried to ignore. She was too aware of him—and she liked it.

  “Good day, Kendra,” Simon said with a smile. “Do you know the history of Angelo’s Academy?”

  When Kendra shook her head, he said, “The founder, Domenico Angelo Malevolti Tremamondo, was an Italian sword master.” The names rolled melodiously from his tongue, a reminder that Simon was European as well as English. “The story goes that he fell in love with a beautiful English actress and followed her to London. Once here he looked around and decided the English were in dire need of fencing lessons to make them equal to swordsmen on the Continent.”

  “He wasn’t wrong,” Lucas said. “His academy prospered, he took Angelo as his last name because it was simpler, and the academy is now run by his son Henry. The last I heard, Domenico was teaching the boys of Eton and Henry’s son, Henry the Younger, was preparing to eventually take charge of the academy.”

  “I hope they continue to teach women,” Kendra said. “Why should men have all the fun?”

  Lucas smiled wryly. “Because we have arranged the world to suit male tastes. But women like Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin are changing that.”

  Kendra was impressed that he knew about Vindication of the Rights of Women. Change would come slowly, but perhaps someday women would be able to speak in their own defense in a courtroom.

  It was a short ride to Angelo’s Academy on Bond Street, and the coachman left them right in front of the door so it was only a brief dash through the rain to get inside. Kendra looked around with interest as she shook the raindrops from her black cloak. The academy’s main room had high ceilings, and molded arches on the walls featured paired swords of many styles, from rapiers to great two-handed Scottish claymores. There was even a pair of dirks, navy style like Lucas’s.

  The academy was clearly home to sporting men and easy laughter. Groups of chairs and small tables were scattered near the walls for the comfort of observers, and two pairs of fencers were engaged at opposite ends of the great hall. The low rumble of conversation slowed when Kendra and her companions entered, but it picked up again quickly. Angelo’s denizens must be used to the sight of women.

  A genial man approached, his expression welcoming. Kendra guessed it was Henry Angelo. “Colonel Duval, always a pleasure!” he exclaimed, shaking Simon’s hand. Turning to Lucas, he said, “Mr. Mandeville, or rather, Lord Foxton now. How excellent to see you again! It’s been too long, and rumor said you were dead.”

  “Rumor is an unreliable fellow,” Lucas said as he shook Angelo’s proffered hand. “But in this case, not too far off.” He drew Kendra forward. “Allow me to present my cousin, Miss Kendra Douglas. She’s interested in possible lessons.”

  Henry’s gaze sharpened. No doubt rumor had also reported Kendra’s divorce, but he took her hand with the same warmth he’d shown Lucas and Simon. “Then you’ve come to the right place, Miss Douglas. There are several ladies who practice here regularly. I will talk with you more later, but first, I want to see these two cross swords.” He gestured at Simon and Lucas.

  The cousins exchanged a glance and Simon said, “We’re willing.” They stripped off their coats and hats, which were collected by a servant, along with Kendra’s cloak.

  As Angelo provided them with two blunted small swords, Kendra said firmly, “Please don’t damage each other! Suzanne wouldn’t like it.”

  “Neither would we,” Simon assured her. Eyes glinting, he said, “Now, cousin, let’s see how much you remember!”

  “Not much. It’s been a long time,” Lucas replied with a smile, but as he flexed the blade of the light sword to acquaint himself with the weapon’s weight and balance, he had an air of experience.

  Onlookers drifted into a loose circle that gave the two men room to fight. Lucas and Simon saluted with raised swords, then
began sparring lightly, testing each other.

  As the tempo of the bout quickened, Kendra watched, entranced. She’d never been so aware of the beauty of male bodies. Fencing was lethal poetry in action that displayed fit limbs and powerful shoulders, swift turns and agile footwork. Though Simon did seem more practiced, Lucas had a longer reach and was just as fast.

  She wished Suzanne was here to appreciate this magnificent display of masculine elegance. It was . . . stimulating, but also charming. Even a novice like her could see how they understood and anticipated each other’s movements, and how much pleasure they were taking in this friendly bout. Almost-brothers indeed!

  The informal bout ended when Simon lunged forward and the blunted end of his sword touched over Lucas’s heart. “Bout over! You’re dead, cousin.”

  Laughing, Lucas made a sweeping bow of concession. “I shall survive to fight another day. We’ll have to do this more often.”

  As both men accepted towels and wiped their sweaty faces, Kendra clapped her hands. “Well done, sirs! It’s lovely to watch two skilled swordsmen who aren’t actually trying to kill each other.”

  “Indeed it is,” said Henry Angelo. “Do you wish to lift a small sword yourself, Miss Douglas? I’ll show you myself to get a sense of your aptitude.”

  “I did a bit of fencing as a young girl,” Kendra said. “But I have no real skill.”

  “That is for me to determine! Let us withdraw to the teaching room and find you a blade.”

  Kendra moved off with Angelo, feeling more alive than she had in a very long time. She was beginning to enjoy being a scandalous woman.

  * * *

  An officer friend of Simon’s claimed his attention, leaving Lucas free to amble around the academy. It had been years since his last visit, but it hadn’t changed much.

  A bookshelf on one wall held volumes of the fencing instruction manuals written by various Angelos. The family had a long association with the army, where they were doing their best to raise the level of British swordsmanship to Continental standards.