As Kuni watched in outrage, they indeed swung out their sword sticks to trip passersby who ventured too close or to lift the skirts of a fleeing maiden with tears on her face. This was celebrated with hoots of laughter loud enough to be heard over the din of horses and carriages.
“I shall deal with this,” Kuni whispered. “I have a throwing knife for each of their shriveled hearts.”
“I cannot believeI’mabout to be the voice of reason,” Elizabeth whispered back, “but Graham strongly advises against capital crimes on public streets. Wait until it’s self-defense, but don’t kill them. It will be more satisfying to see the shock on their whiny faces.”
The two women crept slowly up the pavement as if oblivious to the whooping, self-congratulatory bucks. When Kuni and Elizabeth could go no farther without running headfirst into one of their dramatic neckcloths, one of the Bond Street loungers slid out his cane to trip Kuni at the same time his puffed-up crony lifted the hem of Elizabeth’s skirts.
Both women sprang into action at once.
In a blur of motion, Elizabeth whipped her rapier from its bejeweled sheath and set about slicing their great clouds of neck linen into ribbons. While they attempted to defend themselves against this unforeseen threat, Kuni knocked them one by one into the muck-lined street, using her twin daggers to slice the tails from their coats as they fell.
“Now you are marked coming and going.” Kuni glowered at the fallen bucks, her hands fisted around the hilts of her daggers. “Tell your friends not to pick on the helpless again, lest they wish for public humiliation.”
The loungers’ mouths gaped. “Where are youfrom?”
“Islington,” Elizabeth snapped. She sheathed her sword and looped her arm with Kuni’s. “And I have more sisters.”
A cheer erupted from the gathering crowd.
“We’ll be watching you.” Elizabeth and Kuni held their positions on the curb, arm in arm, facing down the red-faced men in the gutters.
The loungers exchanged sheepish glances and scrambled away, trying unsuccessfully to scrub horse droppings from their yellow buckskins with their monogrammed handkerchiefs.
“There,” Elizabeth said with satisfaction. “Now you have a taste of what it’s like to be a Wynchester.”
Kuni did not miss the murderous looks the fleeing university bucks sent over their shoulders. “I suspect we have not seen the last of the Bond Street loungers.”
Elizabeth grinned. “Which meansthey’venot seen the last of us. I can’t wait to do it again.”
17
Kuni and Elizabeth arrived back at the Wynchester home in high spirits.
A sword had arrived for Elizabeth, who immediately rushed upstairs to find a spot for her new blade.
Now that their adventures together had ended, Kuni went to her guest chamber to shrug out of her knife-lined pelisse. She tucked her surveillance notebook into her valise for safekeeping. She wished Graham were here, so she could tell him about everything that had happened. And train with him again in the rear garden. And…maybe to take that kiss they had almost shared.
The handsome rogue was everything she never thought she’d find. Fearless and talented, a force to be reckoned with, who required no aid from anyone…and wanted her beside him anyway. As an equal. As a team. Perhaps even as a lover.
Unfortunately, he was also an Englishman firmly anchored in ugly London. And Kuni…would be wherever Mechtilda was. In Balcovia, if they both were lucky. Frigid Russia, if they were not. But Kuni’s place was at the princess’s side, just as she’d trained for all her life. No longer would the childhood friends need toy dolls to act out a fantasy. As long as Kuni’s performance in England remained above all possible reproach, the life they’d schemed and struggled for together would soon be theirs at last.
When she stepped back out of her guest chamber, Marjorie was visible on the landing, her face tilted up at the stairs, lost in thought.
Kuni strode up to her, heedless of the clatter of her boots against the floor. A Royal Guard’s steps were silent, but she wasn’t on duty as a Royal Guardswoman at the moment, and she wanted to catch Marjorie before she disappeared back into her studio.
After such a splendid day with Elizabeth, Kuni suspected Marjorie must be just as much fun. And, if Kuni was honest, her chest twisted longingly at the hope of spending companionable time with siblings—even if they were not her own.
These short weeks would be her one chance for such interactions. She didn’t want to miss a minute of it.
Marjorie was still staring off into nothingness when Kuni approached her from the left.
She kept her voice light and low, so as not to startle Marjorie. “I had a lovely day tossing ruffians into the street with your sister.”
There was no response.
Kuni tried again, louder. “I said I pummeled brigands with Elizabeth.”
Marjorie didn’t even blink. She continued to stare straight ahead as though Kuni were less consequential than a gnat.
