An understatement. But despite all their good witnesses, Kendra couldn’t help wondering if any of them would matter when Denshire had already won his divorce. Would she always be the loser?

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 30

The next day was Wednesday, so Kendra donned her fencing costume to go to Angelo’s to cross swords with other Fencing Females. She was collected by Lucas and Simon. She knew they enjoyed sparring together, but guessed that Simon made a point of going on the same days as Lucas to ensure that his almost-brother had a partner.

She was greeted warmly by the other female fencers. She’d never felt such a sense of camaraderie with another group of women. All of them were strong, kind, tolerant, and had a bit of an odd kick in their gallop. Kendra had found her tribe.

Cassie Wyndham was present and challenged her to a first bout that left them both laughing and gasping for air. “You’re improving really quickly!” Cassie said. “You could have had a serious career causing mayhem.”

“No, thank you. If I’m getting better, it’s because I have such talented opponents,” Kendra said as she pushed sweat-dampened hair from her forehead.

As Athena Masterson engaged with her sister-in-law Kiri, Kendra glanced around the large studio and saw Lucas and Simon sparring intensely. With the practice Lucas had been getting, he’d improved, and now he and Simon each won almost equal numbers of bouts.

Kendra was ready to find another opponent when the door opened and three of the Rogers brothers entered. There was Godfrey, the crippled youngest brother with lines of pain etched in his face. Behind him was his oldest brother, Patrick, the cavalry officer who had fought Lucas the first time they’d met. They were accompanied by a middle brother whose name Kendra didn’t know, but who was clearly a Rogers.

Godfrey limped in on his crutches, then stopped, enraged at the sight of Lucas. “You again! Why does a disgraced man insist on engaging in what should be a pastime for honorable gentlemen?”

Kendra swore silently when she saw Lucas’s tight expression. A pity that Henry Angelo wasn’t here. He would shut this nonsense down before it spiraled out of control. But he was away this morning and his young assistant hadn’t enough natural authority.

She’d always sensed that Lucas wasn’t fully at peace with himself about the way he’d escaped the French prison. His head might believe he’d had no choice, but his spirit, which had been raised in the English gentleman’s code of honor, still carried a burden of guilt and self-hatred for breaking his parole.