Fencing for Ladies (The Archer Family Regency Romances #5) by Amy Corwin

face, he appeared to be about twelve years old, though he was scrawny and small for his age.
    “What do you be needing, my lord? A woman?” The lad winked lewdly and smacked his thin lips.
    “I need the constable and coroner. Inform them there has been an accident here, and we require their assistance.”
    When the boy reached for the coin, Alexander held it out of reach.
    “You may have this sixpence now.” He placed the coin in the lad’s hand and caught the thin wrist before the child could run away. “And another when you return with the men I requested. Do you understand?”
    “Aye, my lord.” The coin magically disappeared before the boy tilted his head like a robin eyeing a likely worm. “And another when I return.”
    “With the constable and the coroner. Agreed?”
    The boy nodded and slipped away, leaving Alexander unsure if the lad would return or simply disappear into the back streets of London.
    With a shrug, Alexander went back inside.
    The women were gone. He listened for a moment and heard footsteps and the echo of voices above him. He found them in one of the rooms on the first floor. The two ladies were standing in front of several épées, foils, and rapiers laid out on top of a large desk. Beyond them, a wardrobe yawned open with a dried, black stain painting the base of the main compartment and a small area of the floor in front of it. Footprints meandered to the right in a short path four feet away from the stain on the floor.
    “Lord Milbourn,” Lady Olivia said, glancing up at him. Her face was tense and pale. Small, worried wrinkles pressed between her brows, crushed the skin around her lovely eyes, and pinched her mouth. “Is the constable here?”
    “Not yet. I sent for him. He should not be long.”
    Miss Denholm picked up one of the rapiers and held it up, pointing the tip at the window and staring down the length of the blade. “We should have plenty of time for a lesson, then.”
    “I don’t think —” Lady Olivia protested.
    Miss Denholm cut her off with a snort. “Well, he shall want to speak to us, and I, for one, have no intention of simply standing about, awaiting his indulgence. No point in that, eh?”
    Lady Olivia flicked a last glance at Alexander before she shrugged. “Very well.” She picked up one of the épées and walked around the desk to find corks to place on the sharp tips of the weapons.
    “Where are your masks?” Alexander asked sharply.
    “They…” Lady Olivia sighed. Her gaze strayed to the wardrobe.
    Alexander went to the wardrobe and after searching several drawers, he pulled out several wire mesh masks. He placed them on the desk next to the remaining two rapiers. “Wear them.”
    “They — there is blood on them.” A look of distaste wrinkled Lady Olivia’s nose. She held her épée down at her side, pointing the weapon at the floor, and thrust her other hand behind her back, clearly unwilling to touch the masks.
    Alexander drew out his handkerchief and wiped off the dried flakes of blood. “There. Your academy will not do so well if you are disfigured, mi niña bonita. Wear it.”
    Miss Denholm picked up one of the masks and turned it over, studying it. “Do men wear these things? I have never seen one before. A bit awkward, are they not?”
    “It may be awkward, but you cannot fence without it. And yes, men do wear them.” He didn’t add, “on occasion.” He frowned at Lady Olivia until she flushed and picked up one of the masks.
    “Awkward,” Miss Denholm repeated, her lower lip thrust out.
    “Then let this start your lesson.” Alexander picked up one of the masks. “You have heard of Texier De La Boessiere, the French master, have you not?”
    Lady Olivia obediently nodded, but Miss Denholm just stared at him with blank, blue eyes. With her red lower lip still protruding, she looked like a large, frustrated child about to have a tantrum.
    “He developed these to assist the fencer maintain his position and neither advance