He wafted the blade through the air, feeling it tug and follow the flick of his wrist as he gained a feel for its weight. Then he assumed a position with his legs in a lunge and his sword extended in front of him.
Rallo mimicked him, standing up on his long legs, curling his tail beneath him, and extending his miniature sword until it touched Flynn’s. “It seems he wishes to duel me for your attentions, Miss De Lesseps.”
“He needn’t fight you for them. He’s already won them heartily.”
“Ohhhh”—Flynn grabbed at his chest in mock pain—“you wound me.”
Olivia smirked as Rallo’s small head darted between them.
“Be that as it may, I request a fair fight.” Flynn held his blade to the monkey’s sword, and Rallo bared his teeth in response.
“En garde then, you little beast,” Flynn joked. He and the monkey matched blades, and then Flynn backed Rallo into a corner. The monkey scampered up the post he’d been sitting on and used his higher ground to fight Flynn off.
But it wasn’t enough. Flynn advanced on him, practicing a scene they’d cut from one of his earlier films. Rallo remembered it too, parrying in defense before surrendering by dropping his blade and covering his eyes with his hands.
“Oh, Flynn, don’t hurt him!” yelped Olivia.
The sudden outburst distracted him, and he looked back at her. Rallo used the pause to diverge from their choreography—jumping to the ground, retrieving his sword, and crawling up Flynn’s pant leg and across his chest until he held his tiny sword at Flynn’s throat.
“Get him, Rallo. Make him beg for mercy!”
“This is not what we practiced,” Flynn hissed at Rallo. The monkey shrugged, which made Flynn laugh and drop his blade, raising his hands in surrender. “All right, fine, you win. But don’t think I’ll forget this.”
Lionel whistled and the monkey returned to him, passing off his tiny sword to Fred Cavens on the way.
The fencing master resumed control of the proceedings. “Now that we know that Rallo hasn’t forgotten how to fence, Miss De Lesseps, can you assume a starting position? Do you need me to show you?”
“I can help if you need.” Flynn laughed. “I’m very good at every position.” He wanted to make her blush, to push through that wall again. Instead, she ignored him and assumed a classical lunge, looking absurdly cute in her gingham blouse and high-waisted shorts.
“Is that right?” She turned only her head to Cavens.
“Very good, very good. Your form is excellent. Now, we have two fights to teach you. The first is when Flynn’s character kidnaps you and you attempt to fight him off with a decorative blade hanging on your wall. The other is when you team up alongsideFlynn’s crew to fend off the attacking Spaniards at the film’s conclusion. Flynn, if you’ll take your position, we’ll walk through some basics.”
He did, raising his blade again and seductively running it down the edge of Olivia’s saber. She didn’t even flinch as the metal shrieked against metal. She held her ground, waiting for instruction from Fred. “What now, Mr. Cavens?”
“Yes, what now, Fred?” Flynn asked. “Does she need to adjust her footing? Maybe her posture?”
“No, she’s perfect. It’s you who seems off-kilter, Banks. Why are your shoulders so far back? And your feet are too close together. Good God, man, have I taught you nothing?”
Olivia simpered at him. “I’ll wait for Mr. Banks to adjust his position.” She held still and Flynn scowled at her as Fred nudged his instep with the tip of his foot, adjusting his legs slightly.
Flynn shifted his weight, trying to sink into the easy starting position Fred had taught him ages ago. The pose should be instinctual by now, but damn, this woman threw him off-balance. And thanks to Harry, he was supposed to pretend to be going steady with her? The thought made him squirm. Thank God they didn’t have to begin this months-long publicity stunt until Harry worked out the details.
Cavens frowned and stood behind Flynn, placing his hand between his shoulder blades to get him to relax. “C’mon, Banks, you know better than this.”
He did, he really did.
At last, Fred seemed satisfied and took a step back. “All right, let’s exchange a few easy hits so I can get a sense for how you move on your feet.”
Olivia straightened her spine, and Flynn braced himself as she placed more weight on her front leg to begin her attack. Shewent for a straight thrust, which he easily parried. They repeated the movement three times, the portrait of civility and gentlemanly fencing. He was bored. Why did he have to be present for her fencing lessons? He yawned as he parried each of her thrusts, barely even moving.
Something flashed in her eyes and she bit her lip. “C’mon, Banks, don’t go easy on me.”
He raised his eyebrow at her. She wanted to fight? Fine. “En garde.” He lifted his blade, smirking and giving her a wink.
She tilted her head, perhaps in confusion, and he took up the offensive, lunging and then thrusting as he drove her back toward the corner of the soundstage, where Rallo was observing from his perch. The monkey placed its hands to the side of its face in worry. Flynn thrust again and again, forcing her to retreat.
“Okay, Banks, that’s enough,” Cavens called out. “It’s supposed to be a lesson, not a duel.”
