“Two ...” Mr. Winston raised his stick, and I winced. He would lash out and hurt me, and Ben was just standing there, doing nothing to save me.
Hit him,I thought.Hit him hard, and this will all be over. All the nerves, all the fear, all the discomfort.
My palm grew sweaty around my stick. He was right in front of me.
“Three.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, took two steps forward, and swung my arm as hard as I could. The force of my weapon hitting his burned up my arm in waves, and I dropped my stick.
“Well done,” Mr. Winston said. His voice sounded even, as though me hitting him with every ounce of strength I possessed had neither surprised nor affected him in the least.
“I missed,” I argued, rising tall.
“Because I blocked you.”
“I do not think I shall continue,” I said more to Ben than Mr. Winston.
“You expect to be proficient after one encounter?” Mr. Winston taunted.
Ben strode to me. “What’s this? You are fantastic, Ros. Do not dismay. Mr. Winston will have you sparring like the best in no time.”
I rubbed my sore hand and took in a long breath to settle the frustration brewing inside of me from this ridiculous sport. I would not give the man another thing to laugh about.
“I do not wish to spar, Ben.”
Ben shook his head, his eyes alight and merry. “You’re learning the science of fighting. Your footwork is perfect.”
How could I argue against that face? That boyish, innocent, perfectly happy face that I’d loved for as long as I could remember. One last adventure. One step closer to my goal.
“What is next, then?” I asked through my teeth. “The sun is halfway up, and Mama will be expecting me.”
Mr. Winston tucked his arms behind his back again like a proper teacher addressing his student. But in truth he was a man cut off from his inheritance and cast out of his home. Clearly, boxing did little for a man’s intellect.
Mr. Winston moved directly in front of me, an arm’s-length away. “After footwork comes fighting.”
“Oh, no.” I laughed. “No, no. I simply cannot. Benjamin, be reasonable. I am yoursister, and there are certain things you should protect me from. Shall we move on? Take me on a walk around the pond for frogs. I would even dig for worms with my bare hands—”
“I am right here, should you need protecting,” Ben said with his hand to his heart. His eyes were full of mirth.
This.Thiswas why I needed Liza by my side. She always knew when to abandon ship, even when her brother looked at her with such pure joy and enthusiasm.
Mr. Winston looked just as pleased with my discomfort as Ben did. “Tell me, Miss Newbury. What makes you angry?”
My eyes flicked to his. “I am a lady, Mr. Winston. I do not feel anger.”
He lowered his chin. “Is that so?”
On second thought,hemade me angry. Mr. Winston, with all his strength and pride, embodied every frustration I’d suppressed since my engagement. He thought my life was as easy to fix as his own. That if I waved my fists around, I’d suddenly feel whole and complete and successful.
My definition of success was marrying well. I thought I’d meet a handsome baron or a newly titled earl, and we’d dance and dine all through the Season. We’d take our time and fall in love. Instead, a match was found for me. A good one, yes. But not one of my choosing. I knew I should be grateful, and I was. But how I longed to scream out in grief for the experiences I’d never have.
Mr. Winston held up an open hand by his jaw and motioned for me to hit his palm. “Show me what you are feeling.”
My fists tightened on instinct. I’d never seen a bout of fisticuffs in person before, but I had seen drawings. I knew that men raised their fists in front of them, that they leaned back at their waists to protect their heads from their opponents.
So I raised my chin. I thought of all the little things I loved that I would have to leave behind when I became a duchess. I let myself mourn my silly adventures with Liza, Ben chasing me through the fields with something slimy in his hands, and Mama calling from across the lawn for me to practice the pianoforte. My children would not have such memories. More would be expected of them.
In such a short time, everything would change. All my interactions would be forced smiles and conversations with people I would never truly understand. All for my family’s legacy. For Ben and the boys. So my children would grow up comfortable in the upper crust of Society.
