Frederica found Georgiana and her invisible instructor – or was there more than one? – in the ballroom. A good choice, with plenty of empty space to move. Georgiana clutched a wooden dagger as if it were a stick – a particularly clumsy stick that she thrust at apparently empty air. Too low to strike a human effectively. Jasper had taught Frederica to strike high, since any assailant would likely be taller than her.
It was obvious when Georgiana spotted her in the doorway because the girl froze in place, and then awkwardly dropped her hand to her side as if to hide the dagger. “Lady Frederica,” she said weakly.
Frederica strode toward her and plucked the wooden dagger from her. “Hold out your hand.”
Georgiana obeyed, though her arm trembled.
Frederica set the hilt across the girl’s palm in the orientation Jasper had drilled into her, and then wrapped Georgiana’s fingers around it. “There. Do you feel the difference?”
The girl clutched it hesitantly. “I think so.”
“No, do not tilt your hand. Relax your wrist, so that when you strike, you can put the weight of your body behind it.” She demonstrated the movement. “Try it, just like that. Excellent. Now bend your knees just a little and thrust again.”
Georgiana tried it once, and then several times. “That is better.” She sounded surprised. “Where did you learn that?”
“Jasper’s sister, remember? His victim, too, when he had exhausted all his other sparring partners.”
“You do not think this is too unladylike?”
Frederica widened her eyes in mock shock. “It is absolutely unladylike, but, to quote Jasper, which do you prefer – ladylike or dead?”
Georgiana giggled. “I suppose that is a good point.”
“Seriously, I am delighted that your fae friends are taking your education in hand. But you should also be trained by someone who understands the ability of the human body and can recommend weapons suited to your hands.”
A deep voice rasped, “The mortal is correct. There are limits to what I can teach you while you wear that form.”
“Could I truly do that?” asked Georgiana. “Have a weapons tutor?”
Frederica grinned. “Nothing easier.”
“The Honorable Mr. Fitzwilliam,” the butler announced.
Frederica jumped up and embraced her lanky blonde brother. “That was fast, Jasper! Thank you for coming.” How good it was to see him, her baby brother, her favorite of the entire family! She loved Richard and Charles, too, but Jasper was special.
“Hullo, Freds. You did say you had an unusual weapons challenge for me.” He said it as if that explained his haste, which, this being Jasper, it did.
She beamed at him. “This will be a new one even for you! Did you know that Cousin Georgiana is a changeling?”
His face showed a small measure of surprise, but very little could truly move Jasper if it did not have a sharp edge and a point. “No, truly?”
“Yes. She is trapped in a mortal body and needs to learn how to defend herself against the High Fae.”
He whistled, his mind clearly whirring with possibilities. “Interesting. Can she use iron?”
Anyone else would have asked why Georgiana needed to fight a High Fae, but Jasper would never see anything beyond the weapons question. “Yes, though she has been practicing with a wooden dagger for now. Some lesser fae have been teaching her, but their techniques are not suited to her body. I have gone over the basics with her, but she needs more.”
A light kindled in Jasper’s eyes. “Lesser fae, too? I wonder if they would be willing to spar with me. I bet they have techniques I have never seen. Where are they? When can we begin?
She laughed. “I will take you to Georgiana right away.”
Frederica looked up from her book with profound relief when the butler came in. Studying Arabic so that she could someday read Elizabeth’s books had seemed like a clever idea, but she had forgotten how difficult book learning was for her. How would she ever make sense of all those little squiggles?
“Mr. Roderick is here, Lady Frederica,” Hobbes intoned.
Roderick, damn him. How dare he? Her hand itched to throw that blasted book at his head.
But she had been raised to take her place in theton, so instead she told Hobbes to show him in and sank into a graceful curtsy when he entered. “Mr. Roderick, what a lovely surprise.” With only the slightest bite to her words, lest he think he was truly welcome.
