Mr Ashcombe stepped back and lifted his mask. "I was not ready."
"You both began at the same signal," Mr Pritchard replied.
Lady Hortensia waved one hand. "Put your mask on, Mr Ashcombe. You will find that complaining does not alter the score."
His face had reddened, but he obeyed. The second exchange lasted longer. Ashcombe was more cautious now, and his greater reach allowed him to hold Lady Frances at a distance. He drew her into an attack, avoided it and touched her upon the shoulder before she could recover.
"One touch each," said Mr Pritchard.
Ashcombe gave a small bow. "You see, madam? Skill will tell in the end."
Lady Frances returned to her place. "Then we must hope you possess some."
A laugh ran through the company. Ashcombe heard it, and Darcy saw the immediate change in him. His next attack was faster, but less controlled. Lady Frances parried it, and when he attempted to force her blade aside, she slipped from beneath the pressure and touched him upon the sleeve.
"Two touches to Lady Frances."
Ashcombe removed his mask again. "That was scarcely a touch."
"It was clean," said Mr Pritchard.
"Upon the sleeve."
"Which is attached to you, sir," Lady Hortensia observed.
Even Darcy could not prevent a smile. Across the ground, Miss Elizabeth was laughing openly, her eyes bright with delight. She caught his gaze and looked pointedly towards the score, raising two fingers before folding her arms with an air of great satisfaction.
Darcy shook his head, though he was still smiling as he turned back to the bout.
Ashcombe won the next two touches. Once he ceased attempting to humiliate his opponent and attended properly to the fencing, his reach and strength began to work in his favour. Lady Frances defended herself well, but he forced her backwards and caught her first upon the shoulder, then against the padded jacket above her ribs.
"Three touches to Mr Ashcombe. Two to Lady Frances."
The gentlemen applauded, though their support was less noisy than that of the ladies. Mr Hadley offered only a few dutiful claps, and Henry Blackwood remained silent beside his brothers.
Lady Frances returned to her position and adjusted her grip. The exertion had brought colour into her face beneath the mask, but her movements remained controlled. Ashcombe must have seen that she was tiring, for he advanced immediately when the bout resumed.
He drove her backwards once more, striking hard enough against her foil that the sound carried across the lawn. Lady Frances recovered, but his next attack came before she had fully regained her balance. She retreated towards the edge of the marked ground and narrowly avoided another touch.
Darcy stepped forward. "Take care, Ashcombe."
The warning caused Ashcombe to hesitate. It was only for an instant, but Lady Frances used it. She turned his blade aside and touched him squarely upon the chest.
"Three touches each," announced Mr Pritchard.
The ladies' cheers rose again, and Miss Elizabeth called Lady Frances's name above them. Ashcombe dragged off his mask.
"Darcy interfered."
"I instructed you to take care," Darcy replied. "You were using more force than the contest requires."
"I was fencing!"
"You were warned before the bout that excessive force would not be permitted."
Ashcombe looked ready to continue the argument, but Darcy held his gaze until he replaced the mask and returned to his position.
The fourth touch went to Lady Frances. Ashcombe attacked with renewed determination, but his temper had made him careless again. She allowed him to advance, gave ground for two paces and then moved sharply to one side. His foil passed harmlessly beside her, and she caught him upon the back of the shoulder before he could turn.
