“Such a thing is not possible, Damien. I do not possess the strength to oppose any man in a physical battle of wills, let alone Hugh, who is as well trained and nearly as powerfully built as you are.”
“When I have finished with you, you will be able to use the skills you have learned against even me, should you wish it. Though of course you would only be successful if I was not prepared for your attempt…which, I must confess, will never be the case. It is only proper to give you fair warning.”
His eyes twinkled as he spoke, and she was caught in a rush of sweet emotion at being offered this glimpse of Damien’s playful side again after so long. Smiling with him, she shook her head, impressed at his seeming ease in shifting her mood away from her earlier pensiveness, while at the same time unable to subdue her skepticism concerning his idea.
“What?” he asked in response to her dubious expression. He placed his hand over his heart in mock injury. “I am wounded to know that you doubt me, lady. Truly.”
Now she did laugh. “Ah, Damien, you cannot honestly believe that you can teach a woman to free herself from the grasp of a warrior who has been trained almost from the cradle to capture, fight, and kill. I have heard of women leading garrisons in defense of their lands in their husbands’ absence, but I never knew of one who boasted the ability to meet a man successfully in an individual confrontation. Where did you get such a notion?”
“In Egypt, when I and a score of other Templar Knights passed through the Beni Hasan region.”
“What?”
“In that place, there are those who practice an ancient form of defense that includes several hundred forms of holds, strikes, and escapes. The techniques are fundamental and very useful, and the men there have taught many of those skills to their women, for their protection in times of war.”
Alissende looked at him in disbelief. “You are in earnest about this, aren’t you?”
“I am, for I know it can be done.”
She did not answer again right away. But the idea he was proposing had begun to work its influence on her, as he’d likely known it would. She had abandoned anything that had even hinted at impetuousness in the past five years, but Damien no doubt remembered well how she used to relish spontaneous and sometimes outrageous actions when she was younger. And this would have a pragmatic use, at least, if it proved as fruitful as Damien seemed to think.
“So, Alissende, what say you—will you agree to let me instruct you in this?” he asked. “It will require a daily commitment at first, as you become accustomed to the movements and positions.”
In that moment she knew that she would do it, though it would look more than strange to any who might happen to stumble upon them in the process. However, that could be addressed easily enough.
She met his gaze. “If you wish it, Damien, then I will attempt to learn these unusual skills you are advocating. However, I think it would be best if we undertook the training somewhere private, away from curious eyes and meddling tongues.”
“I am relieved, lady,” he said liltingly, “and pleased as well, to have your accord in this, though I am afraid I cannot comply with your request for privacy.” Damien shook his head in a show of regret as he spoke the last, though the effect of it was ruined when he grinned at her.
She was still coping with her astonishment at his response when he turned and began to leave the chamber.
“Wait! Where are you going?” she sputtered, managing to pull herself together enough to glare at him and call more loudly to his retreating back, “and why in heaven’s name are you unable to comply with my request?”
He paused, half-twisting to face her when he was near the door. “To answer your first question, I am going to ready what we will need to commence your training. And in answer to your second question—I am notunableto comply with your request for privacy during the activity…I simply refuse to.”
Once again, Alissende was left speechless, choking out little more than a gasp, when he concluded his rude comment with an additional statement that, to her horror, made that first bit seem harmless by comparison.
“I intend to undertake your training quite out in the open, Alissende. Directly before the gazes of those ‘others’ for whom we are supposed to appear as a newly married pair, in fact.” He winked and grinned again. “I’ll leave you to make your own judgment as to why.”
And then he turned and strode out the door…leaving her standing in the solar with her mouth agape, her pulse hammering wildly, and her ears echoing with the faint yet unmistakable sound of his whistling, drifting back through the stunned silence he had left behind.
Chapter 9
“Itold you, I do not know what to make of it,Mère.”
Alissende frowned as she yanked her hand from beneath the fine linen lavabo towel onto which she was attempting to embroider a lily; she sucked the fingertip she’d just pricked again with her needle, wishing she were not a lady so that she might curse aloud. Her uncharacteristic clumsiness annoyed her nearly as much as Damien had managed to do these past few days, with the undeniable relish he seemed to be taking in her daily instruction in defense.
In public.
“Perhaps he is concerned about his departure to court two days hence. Hugh is a formidable opponent, after all. Do you recall Damien as the kind of man who seeks solace during times of anxiety by pursuing matters ofamour?”
Alissende’s frown deepened to a scowl. “Damien de Ashby is far more likely to savor the idea of an upcoming battle than he is to feel apprehensive about it. In truth I believe he feels a sense of anticipation regarding his next meeting with Hugh.”
Jabbing her needle, threaded with pristine, white silk into the linen square, Alissende jumped with a hissed intake of breath, yanking back another finger she’d just inadvertently stabbed.
“Prendre garde,Alissende,” Lady Blanche murmured, suppressing what Alissende was shocked to realize looked suspiciously like a smile. “No matter how beautiful the embroidery, the priest will not be able to use a bloodstained cloth for drying his hands during the consecration of gifts.”
For a long moment, Alissende stared at her mother, doing her best to determine if the expression she thought she’d seen was real or only a figment of her over-wrought imagination. But except for a slight flush—and that could be attributed to the warmth in the chamber as much as anything else—her mother’s face was serene.
