Free My True Love Gave to Me by Ava March Page A

friends, and as such, Alexander never braced for a blow if he made a comment that could hold another, far cruder meaning. Not that he held that sort of interest in Anderson, but it was entertaining to prod him every once in a while.
    “Anderson,” Radcliffe shouted from the other side of the fencing hall. “Have you finished playing over there?”
    “Impatient whelp,” Anderson murmured, though the smile still tipped the edges of his mouth. With a shake of his head, he rolled his eyes. “I’ll be there momentarily,” he called back to his friend. Then he turned his attention back to Alexander. “What do you say to spending Christmas evening with some friends? Radcliffe’s decided to host a small dinner party tomorrow complete with plum pudding, roasted goose and perhaps a game or two after.”
    Alexander doubted any games played at Radcliffe’s would include the typical holiday variety of Shoe the Wild Mare or Bob Apple. At any other time of year, he’d jump at an offer to attend a party at Radcliffe’s. But a holiday dinner party? He made it a point to avoid those, regardless of the host. Though he enjoyed the balls and routs prevalent in December, he preferred to ignore the fact they were given in celebration of the holiday season. “Thank you for the invitation, but I regret I must decline. I have other plans for the evening.” Plans that included spending the Christmas evening alone, avoiding the dinner his family usually hosted and drinking himself into a numb stupor, as he had done for the past four years.
    “Ah well. You will be missed. If your plans change, feel welcome to stop by the house and join us. The usual lot accepted. Should be an interesting night.” With that, he went to join Radcliffe.
    The back of Alexander’s neck pricked with awareness. His pulse picked up a gait. He made to look over his shoulder but stopped himself just in time. If Thomas was in the fencing hall, as Alexander was fairly certain he was, then so be it. Didn’t matter one whit to him.
    But damnation, Thomas was persistent. At first Alexander had thought he had succeeded in driving him away, but starting a week ago, the man had shown his face at least once a day. And so far, Alexander’s maid had reported three separate calls from Mr. Thomas Bennett. He suspected there had been a fourth and fifth call, both after his servants had left for the night, but Alexander had chosen to ignore those particular knocks on his front door. Just as he would ignore Thomas now.
    Slashing his foil through the air, he glanced about the hall. Anderson and Radcliffe had started their bout. Perhaps he’d join the small group of onlookers. He scowled. No, he wasn’t of a mood to stand idly by. Tension gripped his muscles, stringing them taut. He gave his wrist another quick flick.
    “Are you in need of a sparring partner?”
    Thomas’s deep voice washed over him, so close Alexander almost started. He had to be but a couple of paces behind him.
    Annoyance surged through him, and under it was a trace of…satisfaction? He scowled again. No, he could not possibly be pleased that Thomas had tracked him down at the fencing academy.
    Holding tight to his anger, he dropped his arm to his side and turned to face Thomas. “Are you offering up your services?”
    “Yes, if you’ll have them.”
    “Are you certain you’re up to the task?”
    Thomas nodded. “Quite certain.”
    “Been engaging in a bit of sport with the Americans, have you?”
    “No.” He met Alexander’s gaze, the dark depths of his eyes somber yet determined. “But I remember how to wield a sword. Not something one tends to forget, amongst other things.”
    Alexander didn’t think on the decision. He simply made it. With his own weapon, he gestured toward the row of foils hanging at the ready on the nearby wall. “Let’s see if you’re still any good, shall we?”
    The instant the question left his mouth he wished he could snatch it back. Hell, he turned into a bloody