The Rogue by Katharine Ashe

for a moment. “After you have learned the fundamentals of fencing, if you still wish to learn the use of a dagger, I will instruct you in it before I depart.”
    She glanced at the walls. “Shouldn’t I learn with a wooden sword first? For practice?”
    â€œNo need to dally with toys when we are both eager for haste. I will blunt the tips, in any case. Which of these will it be?”
    â€œAmong them all?”
    â€œThe saber is a cut-and-thrust instrument. We will leave it aside for the time being—”
    â€œSince I have no plans to fence from horseback.”
    â€œOr to join the army, presumably. Unless that is in fact your ultimate object?”
    â€œNot currently. One never really knows, though.” She felt ridiculously buoyant. But speaking with him like this had always made her feel this lightness inside.
    â€œChoose from the swords with straight blades and hilts like this.” He touched a sword attached to the wall. “This is a smallsword.”
    â€œA gentleman’s weapon?”
    â€œYes,” he said with a slight smile. “I haven’t the expertise to teach you the Highland Claymore, and frankly you haven’t the heft for it.”
    â€œReally?”
    His gaze slowly scanned her body and she felt flush from her toes to her teeth.
    â€œPerhaps a longsword,” he said, decided huskiness in his voice.
    Across the room, Eliza cleared her throat.
    â€œI meant, haven’t you expertise with a Claymore?” Constance managed to say.
    â€œA man cannot be an expert at everything.”
    â€œSaid without any sincerity whatsoever. You do know how to wield a Claymore.”
    â€œA bit.” His gaze dipped to her lips. “But there is nothing on earth that will entice me to place a weapon of that blunt power in your hands.”
    Eliza cleared her throat louder. “I have eyes, sirrah.”
    â€œEyes that wield a dagger superbly, it seems,” he said to Constance, with a smile.
    â€œAnd ears ,” Eliza shouted.
    â€œWhat are you sewing, Mrs. Josephs?” he called across the room. “Manacles suitable for a man’s wrists, perhaps?”
    â€œIf it suits the man.”
    He laughed. “Your companion hasn’t any idea that I am not the party she should be concerned about here, has she?”
    Constance’s throat was dry. “You are no gentleman.”
    â€œI don’t recall ever claiming that I was. But then, you are not much of a lady, are you?”
    â€œI thought we settled that last night.”
    â€œI am still listening!” Eliza cried.
    â€œSo am I,” Libby said with a little frown. “But I don’t understand the half of what you are saying. It is as if you are speaking in code. Are you a spy, Mr. Sterling? Are you , Constance?”
    â€œI am not, Miss Shaw, but I cannot speak for Lady Constance.” His gaze remained firmly in hers. “We did settle it,” he said in his hot brandy voice. “But I like seeing you blush.”
    â€œWoe to you, sir, for the day your instruction takes root and I employ my new skill in silencing your tongue.”
    It was the wrong thing to say. The easy amusement in his eyes became, in an instant, heat. And the desire in her responded.
    â€œHaven’t you swords that you typically use to teach?” she said in a voice like the bleat of a new lamb.
    â€œI do. But as you are not a typical student, I am allowing you this choice.”
    â€œAre you treating me as an eccentric?”
    â€œAn unwed duke’s daughter of twenty-four years taking up fencing? Of course not.” He gestured to the walls covered with weapons. “You bought them. You choose.”
    She chose her favorite, a slender blade with a hilt fashioned of gold and silver and formed into the shapes of wings on either side.
    â€œWise choice.” He detached it from the wall and gave it to her. It was much heavier than she expected, but the