“Or beyond them, I sincerely trust,” the baron said, grinning wolfishly.
Bea’s father only smiled.
As soon as the match began, it became clear that the baron had underestimated his opponent. He lost two points very quickly, and his posture changed subtly. Bea guessed that he had judged her father, a man beyond forty, to be no more than a casual amateur, and it was true that his early rounds had not stretched him at all. Now the baron was forced to reconsider, and change his strategy.
For a little while they were more evenly matched, and Lord Grayling even managed to gain a point. But then, as if hetired of playing with his opponent, her father drew on his long experience and dispatched his opponent in a few swift bouts.
“Thank you, my lord, a most enjoyable match,” Mr Franklyn said, as they shook hands.
Lord Grayling was too well-bred to show his displeasure openly, for he laughed a little and answered easily, “More so for you than for me, I imagine. I am not accustomed to be defeated quite so comprehensively. You keep yourself remarkably fit for a man of your age, Franklyn.”
“Ah, but it is necessary, for I am the father of a daughter, and one never knows when one may have to deal with a presumptuous fellow. I like to be prepared.”
“How very commendable,” Lord Grayling drawled. “I do not think you will be much troubled by men of that sort.”
“I certainly hope not.”
Her father found a notebook, and began to record all the scores from the blackboard. At first the men stood around discussing the various matches and the skills on display, but gradually they wandered off to bathe and change, and the great hall emptied.
“You are going to send a report to the club,” Bea said, as she watched her father busily writing.
Her father turned to her with a grin. “Certainly I am. They will love to hear about all these fine lords, and how they performed. I shall write it up in some detail and send it to Mr Potter to read out at the next meeting.”
“You are enjoying this far too much, Papa, you sneaky thing. You did not tell them you were a champion in Newcastle.”
“Well, I may have forgotten to mention it, but even if I had, they would not have believed I still have the skill. They look at me and see a few grey hairs, and think I am past it.”
“And you carefully arranged to take on only the dawdlers before the final. Did you know that you would be facing Lord Grayling?”
“One can never know for sure, but if not him, then it would have been the marquess. Either would have served my purpose. Do you know why I arranged this tournament, Bea?”
“You just like showing off your skill.”
He gave a bark of laughter. “That is certainly a part of it, and I have few enough skills, heaven knows, so I must make the most of those I have. Besides, all that practising in the attics should not go to waste, should it?”
“Papa,” she said hesitantly. “You mentioned me… or at least, you mentioned having a daughter, and I can guess what you mean. Would you truly fight a duel?”
He folded his notebook, and tucked it into his coat pocket. “If I had to, yes. I would hope it would never be necessary.”
“To deal with presumptuous men, yes,” she said thoughtfully. “Are there any such here? Was all this a warning for someone in particular? Lord Grayling, perhaps?”
“He has a certain reputation, it is true,” he said slowly. “I cannot be sure of what he might do if he finds himself alone with you. Who can see into a man’s heart? If a man pays you marked attentions, that may be mere chivalry, or it may be mischievous, an idle flirtation. Or, if his intentions are honourable, he will eventually present himself to me for approval, as honest Mr Fielding did. But until that happens, one does not know what a man has in mind, and I would not like any man to think that you are unprotected. That is all.”
“No one could imagine I am unprotected, Papa. You and Mama are here with me, after all.”
“But your stepmother is not always with you. She thinks the duke’s protection is enough, and perhaps it is, but I should not want there to be the slightest misunderstanding. Bea, I shall behonest with you. I have always given you enough room to be yourself, to make your own mistakes, but some men will take advantage of that. I do not want you to be subjected to any… unpleasantness, that is all. So I have had an afternoon’s fun and, I sincerely trust, you will not be importuned by any unwanted attentions. But tell me, Bea, since we are being so open, what is this business with Latin? Is that simply a fine excuse to mingle with the gentlemen?”
“No, no! I enjoy the language, that is the only reason. I should love to become fluent so that I can understand everything, and not just learn poems by rote. The Latin poets have been dead for thousands of years, but their words bring them to life. They are immortal, Papa! Is that not amazing? I can read their words and imagine them walking about the streets, meeting their friends, gazing at a lover and admiring her white neck. I want to get to know them, to understand them. It is a great disappointment to me that I cannot learn more, although…” She giggled, hand to mouth. “Bertram says I shall be able to do whatever I want when I am married, even learn Latin.”
Her father smiled, but said, “That is a bad reason to marry. You should marry a man who will take care of you and cherish you, Bea.”
“Someone like Mr Fielding, you mean?” she said archly.
“Well, yes,” he said laughing. “He is truly in love with you, although he seems to think you need to be sheltered from every wind that blows, which is not how I see you at all. Nor can I see you living in a parsonage, either.”
“Oh, but it is a very snug parsonage, Papa. He told me so himself.”
“What a dolt! He should have told you he would put a curate in the snug parsonage, and set you up in a fine estate — using your own fortune, naturally. But no, he would not suit you, I can quite see that.”
