Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book (38 page)

Elated, Catherine’s nod of agreement came quickly, but Charles hesitated. “Just remember who and where you are,” he said finally, speaking more to Catherine than to Daniel.

The last group left the fencing salon, leaving only the three of them remaining.

“Does Charles know about my gift?” Daniel asked.

Catherine shook her head. Her face flamed as she remembered the train.

“I gave Catherine a knife as an engagement gift,” Daniel said, seemingly oblivious to her embarrassment. “It’s for self-defense. I promised to give her lessons, and tonight is the perfect opportunity.”

Charles’s mouth tightened on one side. “For most couples, it would be an odd gift, but it suits you both. Go ahead with your lesson, and I’ll keep watch by the door.”

“Thank you.” Catherine took a deep breath and tried not to think about the last time she’d been with Daniel.

“First of all,
Gray
,” Daniel said, emphasizing the name as though trying to keep her identity at the forefront of his mind, “you must understand that if anyone ever attacks you with a knife, their intent is to kill. Knives aren’t used in regular fights. They’re too deadly.”

Catherine was surprised by the force of his words. She immediately focused more carefully on the lesson.

“A knife has three ways to attack, so it has more in common with a saber than a foil. You can use the tip, the edge, or the hilt, depending on the damage you want to inflict. A foil is a gentleman’s weapon, used in a drawn-out fight that follows strict rules of conduct. But a knife is simply a tool to kill and maim. Knife fights are very short and usually end in someone’s death. And they are unforgiving of mistakes.”

A chill ran down Catherine’s neck. She’d never seen this level of intensity in Daniel before. “How do you know so much about knife fighting?”

He gave her a level gaze. “As a boy, I ran wild. If I hadn’t learned to defend myself this way, I’d have been dead a number of times over before I reached my twelfth birthday.”

She swallowed. “You’ve never spoken about your childhood. I had no idea it was so dangerous for you, or that you were so wild. You’re always seemed so self-controlled.”

“That’s self-preservation,” he said.

She shot him a probing look, silently asking him to elaborate, but he ignored it. He slipped his jacket off and pulled two dull wooden knives from its pocket before tossing it aside. Wearing only his shirt, he wasn’t properly dressed, but the white linen seemed more appropriate in a fencing salon than his dark jacket had been.

How bad had his childhood been? She knew about his mad father, but she’d had no idea he’d been in so much danger that he’d needed a knife for protection. How could the son of a marquess be abandoned to fend for himself?

“Let’s practice some moves.” He pressed the knife into her hand with the end of the hilt toward her thumb and the blade near her pinkie. “Hold it opposite the way you would a foil. With this grip, you have more strength in your swing. It also allows you to hide the blade behind your arm while holding the knife in your fist.”

She did as he instructed. Daniel glanced down at her forearm and gave her an approving smile. She’d successfully concealed the blade behind her lowered arm.

“Keep the element of surprise in your favor. People won’t expect you to be wielding a knife, so don’t give away that advantage too early. If you hold the knife the other way around, with the point jutting out past your thumb, your opponent will see it immediately.” He demonstrated the two grips, tossing the knife into the air with an expert flip of his wrist as he altered his hold on the handle.

His ease with the weapon was both impressive and disconcerting.

“If the blade is hidden behind your arm, then you can move your hand forward without alerting your opponent and strike him before he anticipates it.”

Daniel ran through a few defensive moves to teach her how to avoid certain knife attacks. She was breathing hard by the time they stopped to take a break. Charles, who had been watching from a spot near the entrance, joined them.

“I heard you say you learned knife fighting as a boy,” Charles said, “but how did you become such an expert? It doesn’t appear to be something one would learn by trial and error.” He watched Daniel intently.

“It’s not a ‘gentleman’s weapon,’ is it?” Daniel paused, as if considering his next words. “As I’m sure you’re already aware, I had an unconventional childhood. I spent much of my younger years running amok. I often ran away from home, heading for Edinburgh, and hoping that perhaps... well... that perhaps my father would notice me. But it never worked.” He paused and frowned as he glanced down at the wooden knife in his hand. “Our head stableman— I should say, instead, our only stableman— finally decided that if I was going to be allowed to run wild, then I’d better learn to defend myself.” He carefully avoided their eyes and shrugged at this admission, but Catherine could tell that revealing the depth of his father’s neglect was painful for him. His stoic gaze revealed nothing, but even so, Catherine could sense his pain.

Daniel cleared his throat. “The most important lesson he taught me was that the best way to survive a knife fight is to avoid one.” He gave Catherine a sharp look. “So remember, if the opportunity to escape presents itself, take it.”

Her heart twisted at the thought of a child learning this sort of lesson. He’d left for Eton when he’d been twelve, so all of this knowledge must have been earned when he was still quite small.

She noticed he was still staring at her and nodded to acknowledge his words.

“Good. I want to show you one last move before we stop for the evening. This one is critical if someone comes up behind you and holds a knife to your throat.” He smiled at her grimace.

He’d be holding a knife to her throat? She hated the feel of metal against her neck. Thank goodness the practice knives were made of wood.

“The important thing to understand is that the knife has to be in motion and slice against you for it to do any real damage. If the edge just presses against your neck, it probably won’t do much more than make a shallow cut. The real danger comes when the knife slides across your skin. So the first and most important thing to do is to immobilize your assailant’s hand. Since you’re a w...,” he stopped himself mid-word and coughed.

She frowned at him.

“Since you’re so small,” he began again, “your attacker won’t believe you pose a threat. That will be to your advantage. As soon as you’re attacked, grab his hand and forearm with both your hands, immobilizing the knife. This might not work if you were a larger man,” he said, glancing at Charles, “since your attacker would see you as a threat and wouldn’t allow you to grab his hands, but a smaller person could probably get away with it.”

That made sense. Men were constantly underestimating her both as Gray and as Catherine.

“Next, turn your body in toward the assailant, pulling his arm even more tightly around you, but at the same time, you need to stoop down as you hold his knife hand firmly with both of your hands. Push the knife tip into his chest and duck down at the same time, pulling your head out from his grasp.”

Catherine gasped. “Push the knife into his chest?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “In a knife fight, it’s kill or be killed. I hope you never find yourself in a situation where you need to use this maneuver, but it can save your life if you know how to do it. Let’s practice it a few times until it feels natural to you.”

How could pushing a knife into a man’s chest ever feel natural?
Her stomach tightened as Catherine suddenly understood how deadly this game really was. Daniel moved up behind her and wrapped his left hand around her waist while holding his right hand, with the wooden knife, against her throat.

At first, her growing tension made her jump in surprise, but then her body seemed to recognize him. His hands wrapped around her in a way that reminded her of their interlude on the train, and her body instantly responded. Her breath caught in her throat, and she could feel the entire length of his body pressed against the back of hers.

“Now, grab my hand with both of yours,” Daniel instructed.

She tried to ignore the disturbing sensations in her body. The heat of his thighs pressed against hers without layers of petticoats to separate them, and the sensation was overwhelming. She nearly trembled at the pressure of his left palm against her ribcage and the sensation of his warm breath against her ear. She could feel the tiny hairs on her neck react to his soft exhalation. Her every sense was heightened.

“Gray?” Daniel prompted when she did not move.

Startled, she quickly placed her hands on Daniel’s, but instead of grabbing at them desperately, she touched them tentatively.

She could hear Daniel moisten his lips with his tongue and then swallow. He cleared his throat.

“Hold my arm more firmly,” he directed, “and then turn toward my chest, keeping the knife away from your throat as you drop down.” His voice did not sound as strong and confident as it had just a moment ago. It sounded husky. Raw.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Catherine followed his instructions, but very slowly. As she turned toward him, she paused as her cheek brushed against his chest, and for a brief moment, she heard the beat of his heart.

“Control my knife as you turn in toward me, and force the tip into my chest. Use the momentum of your turn to give the thrust more power.”

Catherine did as he directed, dancing this dance of death in slow motion, pressing the tip of the dull wooden knife into the white cotton fabric of his shirt while simultaneously ducking down and extricating her head from his hold.

As she stepped away and looked at him, she saw that he stood with the tip of his knife pointing at his chest.

Their gazes locked for a moment, and then Daniel looked down at his chest.

“Right in the heart, Gray,” he said, and then dropped his hand to his side. He wore a bemused expression. He glanced back at her, and then turned away.

Charles turned away from them suddenly and pretended to see something of interest across the room. He walked away from the pair. The room was empty except for the three of them, and Charles now stood at the open door of the salon, his back to the two combatants.

The silence stretched between them. “Good thing it wasn’t real,” she finally said, needing to fill the emptiness.

“More real than you know,” Daniel murmured.

“Daniel?” she asked, unable to read his face. She took a quick step closer to him. “Did I injure you?”

His hand rubbed his chest, and he turned to give her a wry smile. “Not that you’d see. It’s just that something surprised me.”

She wanted to ask him more, but at that moment, Bernini breezed past Charles and entered the room.

“I’m sorry to have to rush you out the door, but a prior engagement...,” Bernini smiled, his eyes glittering. “You know how it is. A lady never likes to be kept waiting, and this one has perfected her pout. I’m afraid if I don’t hurry, she’ll have the advantage she needs to coerce me into buying an exorbitant gift.”

Catherine turned away from Bernini and this casual reference to his newest mistress. It was more difficult to hear him refer to the woman now that she had more of an awareness of what they must share together. She tried to quell the reverberations of her desire for Daniel as she rushed out of the room to put away her foil. She needed to calm herself. She paused to take a few deep breaths before she returned to the foyer and collected her cloak and hat from one of the waiting footmen.

When she joined Daniel and Charles at the door, her brother avoided her gaze.

The three of them exited Bernini’s together. A young groom stood waiting with all three of their mounts, and the group quickly departed.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Charles broke his silence. “There’s too much tension between you. I don’t think it’s wise for Gray to be seen with you, Huntley, until it’s resolved.”

Catherine frowned and glanced at Daniel, who frowned back at her. He gave a sharp nod. “I concur. Perhaps once we are more at ease with one another, the tension will fade.”

He was right, of course. If anyone had seen them together, it could have been disastrous. She watched Daniel’s profile as he stared ahead. The dark London night was broken only by dim street lamps.

Daniel’s saddle creaked as he shifted his weight to look behind him before focusing his attention on them. “There is a reason for the lesson tonight, and I’d like to share it with both of you. I didn’t want to tell you until I was certain, but it isn’t prudent for me to wait any longer.” Daniel let out a deep sigh of frustration. “I’m worried for you, Catherine. I think someone has been following me, and I’m afraid they could be following you as well.”

Catherine’s eyes widened in alarm. “Who?”

“I wish I knew. I noticed it over a month ago, not long before I was attacked, but then it stopped. I thought that whoever it was had given up, but now... I’m certain I’m being followed again. That’s one of the reasons I was late arriving at Bernini’s tonight. I wanted to make sure I didn’t lead anyone there.”

Catherine looked around, surveying the surrounding buildings and alleyways. Any one of the shadows could conceal someone. Each alcove could provide a potential hiding place, and she knew from experience how dangerous a darkened alley could be. A small shiver ran down her spine. “And that’s why you were so intent upon teaching me how to use a knife tonight?”