The Duke's Bidding

Chapter 21

A small crowd was gathered at the mahogany double doors of the ballroom. Every so often the group would shuffle, allowing a new person to look through the opening. John was surprised to see the number of servants gathered there. He didn't think there were this many footmen inside the manor, let alone on staff. The hovering maids gaggled as they got a glimpse inside.

As they approached Watson straightened his vest. He raised his head, indignant, and prepared to let the staff know what he thought of their behavior.

"Watson, do refrain from raising a storm in a teacup," John reproached the elderly servant.

"Yes, my Lord," Watson conceded.

John pushed through the crowd to the gaping doors. "Fascinating, is it not?" he asked no one in particular.

The servants scattered back recognizing their employer. "Which of them is winning?" John asked.

A young and eager footman courageously blurted, "What is it exactly?"

"They call it Wing Chun," John said. "It is a form of fighting in their native country." He himself found the experience intriguing each time he observed the two during a sparring match. "Their movements appear graceful and efficiently disable their opponent," John added, and he threw open the doors.

Rob and Carter sat on the edge of their seats. Literally. Rob was mesmerized. Carter did what he always did, soaking up every move and countermove. John was always surprised at the speed with which his first mate picked up the fighting style. Mei and Tan continued their practice, with no pause in stride.

"Would you like to have a go at it?" John asked Rob as Mei sent Tan flying through the air.

"Did you see that? The bloody chit threw him!" Rob exclaimed.

John had made the mistake of underestimating Mei when he first met her too. "She may appear slight in figure, but she is strong. Tan has been training her in this form of martial arts since she was barely able to walk. The Qing are quite modern when it comes to their women. Can you imagine a proper English lady doing anything even remotely similar to this? Sure, we teach them how to read, play music, paint, and the like but at the end of the day we are training them to be bloody debutantes. All the good that does them."

"You have been away from society for too long," Rob observed. "The customs and rules will get easier after some time."

"If Elizabeth had even the smallest inkling of how to fight back," John forced himself to relax his fist, "she might not have been left on the road like that." When had he fisted his hand?

"She probably did," Robert said as a matter of fact. "She wouldn't have been that hurt if she hadn't fought back in some way. She has a fighting spirit. Don't doubt that."

"I know," John rubbed his nape. "Have you checked on her today?"

"I went to see her. Her maid informed me that she was resting and did not want to be disturbed," Rob explained. "I figured if she needed care you would send for me. Then on my way out I was sidetracked by this," Rob gestured towards the fight.

"You could probably talk Tan into teaching you too."

"Too?" Rob's face lit up, a look akin to his childhood days. "You mean you can do this?"

"It will be nothing like what we learned at Gentleman Jackson's," John mused aloud. "The English pugilist gentleman who dares not sully his hands with work is considered barbaric when compared to the Qing." How many pugilists would be downed by Tan in one round? It would be a harsh blow to the lot.