Chapter 1
New Orleans, 1801
“Letty, you know we can’t do this.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a girl and I’m a man.”
“A man? Hardly,” Letty scoffed. “I’m your same size.”
“Not the same build.”
She pulled on the fencing whites anyway. “We’ll see about that. If they fit me, I’m
going.”
“The fencing master—”
“Will never know.” She tugged up the all-white costume. “And besides, you said
you’ve always dreamed of playing the pianoforte. Why not make your dream come true?”
As usual, Jérôme was unable to find the words to counter her argument. Letty was
driven. She wanted to fence. She wanted to move. She wanted the freedom that came
after en garde. Sitting at a dreary pianoforte bench for hours on end sounded dreadful.
But her twin brother had always wanted to do it. To her mind, the solution was clear. She
would go to the fencing master visiting from Hispaniola, and he would go to Madam
LaTour to be her newest pupil.
“We will get caught.”
“Posh.”
“We always do.”
“Not always,” she said, reaching for the mask to put it over her face. “He will never
know.”
“And when you take it off?” Her brother tugged it over her head.
“I will wear my hair in a plaited queue. So what if I look feminine? You do.”
Her brother groaned. “I do not.”
“Do too. Look at your fingers. They’re perfect for the pianoforte.”
“And yours are better for holding a sword?”
“They will be by the end of the day.”
A strangled sound came from his throat. “You will be the death of me, Letty. Mark my
words: this cannot end well.”
“O ye of little faith. It’s going to go splendidly.”
***
It didn’t.
“Monsieur de Haviland, please remain after class. Everyone else, you may go.”
Letty stilled, her wrist sore and tired from an hour with an épée.
She stood in the center of the fencing lane as the airy room emptied of all the other
students. Some snickered as they walked past her.
They can’t all know. Did the master?
Sweat beaded at her collar, and her chest rose and fell from the exertion.
She had loved every moment. The attack, riposte, parry. It was all fascinating to Letty
and physically exhilarating. It had been like coming back to life after being asleep for
much too long.
“Remove your mask,” the master ordered, stopping behind her.
“Whyever so?”
“Because you are in my fencing lane and what I ask here is so.”
Letty knew she had no choice. She reached behind her head and unknotted it before
pulling it forward. The queue her hair had been plaited into came free with the mask’s
removal, spilling around her face and shoulders.
As it did, he spoke. “My dear, you have too feminine a form to pass for a boy in these
clothes.”
Letty’s heart sank, and her head fell. “But I loved it.”
He came around her, and his feet stopped within her eyesight.
“Chin up, mademoiselle.”
She lifted her eyes, finding some solace in the fact that at least he wasn’t shouting at
her. Through her mask, the master had been blurry. But without it, his handsome face
became much clearer.
“My dear, whatever possessed you to assume the guise of a man?”
“I wanted to fence, not play the pianoforte.”
The rhythmic sound of scales had been coming from across the alley for the duration
of their lesson. “Ah, I see. And you are supposed to be over there while someone else was supposed
to be here?”
“Yes. My brother.”
“At least you do not dissemble.”
“What’s the use?”
He smiled, and his azure-colored gaze glided over her.
“Perhaps all is not lost.”
“How?”
“I will teach you to fence,” he started, and excitement charged through Letty’s body.
“But it must be a private lesson. I cannot have you bounding across the room and all my
other pupils’ eyes on you and not their opponents.”
Letty’s cheeks burned with heat. “They all knew?”
“Maybe not. But many a young man is currently questioning if he is drawn to other
young men after this class.”
Letty slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle.
“You see the dilemma? I cannot have you with them. It is not safe. For you or for me.”
“But a private lesson?”
“At this hour, your brother is also engaged? It must be at this time?”
“It would be ideal … but you have a class.”
“That can be rearranged.”
“You would do that? For me?”
“Mademoiselle, your enthusiasm and the lengths to which you were willing to go to
learn to fence is far greater than the lackluster commitment of those boys who just left.”
“You will teach me then?” Her heart felt like it was blossoming anew with
excitement.
“I will. But on one condition.”
“What? Anything?”
“You tell no one. Not even your brother. He must not know that your secret has been
discovered. I cannot be found out for teaching fencing to a lady of quality. It would be
the end of me.”
Letty thought of her stepfather. He would likely strangle the man with his bare hands.
“I will tell no one. You have my word.”
“Then it is settled. One day per week at this time, on this same day, I will teach you
to fence.”
“But I thought—”
“One day. That is all I can offer.”
“But pianoforte lessons are two days.”
“Then you will find a way to make it work, or I will not see you again.”
“I will make it work. I will return.” Determination squared her shoulders.
“Bon. But may I suggest you change into your gown before you leave. That fencing
costume leaves very little to a man’s imagination.”
Her blush heated her face. “I understand. I will be more careful.”
“And, mademoiselle …” he trailed off.
“Yes?”
“You did well today. You will make an excellent fencer.”
***
Pierre watched her leave and wondered how on earth her brother had been tricked
into such a ruse. But if the young man preferred pianoforte to fencing … perhaps it was
no surprise.
He turned and headed for his dressing room. Now this was a story all too enchanting
not to share with his brother. ...
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