Read Online Magic by Moonlight by MAGGIE SHAYNE - Free Book Online

the actual weapon.”
    M. C. frowned at him. “How am I supposed to
learn without a sword?”
    “I brought you a... a practice sword,” he
said, and nodded toward the large tree behind her. She saw a long,
narrow stick—a branch with all its twigs and leaves stripped
off—leaning against the massive trunk.
    “You want me to use that?”
    “For now,” he told her. “Trust me, Mary
Catherine. I have no desire to lose a hand or to see you lose an
eye when you make a misstep. This will be safer.”
    “You sound like my mother. ‘You could put an
eye out, Mary Catherine.’ ”
    “A wise woman, your mother. It would be a
shame for harm to come to such beautiful eyes.”
    She averted her “beautiful” eyes now,
turning to pick up her stick instead of letting him see her blush
yet again.
    “They’re like rich brown velvet, you know,”
he went on.
    “Or mud,” she replied.
    Al chuckled, and it did something wild to
her insides. He had a sexy laugh—she’d give him that much. She
gripped her stick and turned to face him. “So what do I do with
it?”
    Al lifted his sword, holding his opposite
hand up in the air behind him. “ En garde, my
lady.”

Chapter Eight
     
    Wielding a sword was nowhere near as easy as
Al made it look. M. C. discovered that while trying to mimic his
graceful moves with her stick. To her credit, she only whacked him
upside the head twice, but he had a bright red welt to show for it.
Still, he’d kept his patience, and she thought she’d mastered a
move or two by the time they finished.
    “Now,” Al said, gently closing his hand on
the hilt of her branch and taking it from her. “Try it with a real
sword.”
    She was breathless, and she had no doubt her
face was bright red from exertion—while he stood there as relaxed
as if he’d just been napping. No doubt about it, the guy was in
great shape. She, on the other hand, definitely needed to do more
aerobics. Or something.
    He dropped the stick to the ground and
pressed his gleaming sword into her hand. “Like this,” he said,
guiding her fingers around the grip, then covering them with his
own. “Ready?”
    She nodded. Al stepped away from her...a
good three feet away, and that made her grin. “How can I fight
without an opponent?”
    He smiled back at her, and it made her heart
skip. “For now, your opponent is going to have to be make believe, ma belle. Imagine Monsieur de Rocci standing before
you.”
    M. C. narrowed her eyes. “That should help
immensely. Can I castrate him?”
    Al frowned. “You are more bloodthirsty than
I realized.”
    “Only for de Rocci,” she said, and she
lifted the sword as he’d shown her. “It’s heavier than the stick,”
she said, then she brought it down in a sweeping arc.
    “ Bon. Now thrust! Parry! Dodge!
Block!” As he shouted commands, she obeyed, and she couldn’t deny
she felt incredibly powerful wielding the weapon—though not exactly
graceful, nearly tripping over her feet once. Still, when she
finished, he nodded in approval. “You are an excellent student,
Mary Catherine. You learn quickly.”
    She nodded, smiling, breathless. “I only
wish you were going to be around longer.” Then she bit her lip. She
hadn’t thought about his leaving lately, but now the idea made her
inexplicably sad. And not just because he wouldn’t be around to
give her lessons.
    She actually liked the guy.
Amazing.
    “I wish it, too,” he said softly.
    “What was your life like before I stole you
away from it. Al?” Her voice was softer than usual, she
realized.
    “Ah, my life before.” Did he sound wistful?
“It was a grand adventure, Mary Catherine. To be a Musketeer is
every Frenchman’s dream...or it is in my time. I am respected and
admired, even envied, by everyone I meet.”
    A man of stature, she mused. Successful and
in love with his work. “Did you have any family?”
    He lowered his eyes. “I was my parents’ only
child. They died of a fever when I was still young, so I was