Fencing for Ladies (The Archer Family Regency Romances #5) by Amy Corwin Page A

process of backing out.
    Latimore arrived so quickly that Olivia suspected he had been waiting nearby in the gallery. He waved for Constable Cooke and Mr. Greenfield to precede him down the hallway, clearly determined to keep both men under his keen scrutiny.
    Their footsteps had barely faded when Lord Milbourn returned to stand in front of the fireplace. A small frown creased his dark eyebrows. “You did not indicate you were in such a difficult position, Lady Olivia.”
    She flushed and looked back at the open door. She didn’t need him to bring the awkwardness of her position to her attention. She couldn’t have been more uncomfortably aware of it than she already was.

Chapter Six
    Before Olivia could reply to Lord Milbourn’s comment about her awkward position with regards to Mr. Grantham’s murder, Latimore returned. He cleared his throat gently in the doorway and waited for Olivia to notice him.
    Unfortunately, the woman following him was far too impatient to wait to be announced. She breezed past him, saying as she entered, “That will be all, Latimore. No need for introductions.”
    Oh, no, not Cynthia Denholm! I cannot manage — I can’t talk to her — not right now. Olivia felt the strong urge to break into tears and run from the room. There was only so much bracing encouragement she could tolerate.
    While Olivia and Cynthia had been friends since they were old enough to slip out of their leading strings and escape from their hapless nannies, Cynthia had always been, to put it mildly, overwhelming.
    And she had grown from an energetic child into an impressive woman. At six feet tall, she towered over most men. She was broad-shouldered and strapping enough to be mistaken from the back for a healthy lad if her skirts were hidden and she was only seen from the waist up. From the front, her well-endowed figure was the epitome of the Amazonian warrior women. All she needed was a bow and quiver of arrows slung over her muscular shoulder.
    When Cynthia took a deep breath and opened her mouth, Olivia quivered and prepared for the worst. From experience, she knew that Cynthia’s booming voice could be heard quite clearly from the street outside, no matter which floor she occupied.
    Nonetheless, it was difficult not to like her. She was so cheerful, and her florid, round face, with its snapping blue eyes and red cheeks matching her flaming hair, were vibrantly attractive. It was just that her boisterous manner simply crushed any quieter personages nearby, and today, Olivia felt very quiet.
    “Lady Olivia, Miss Denholm,” Latimore intoned from the doorway, refusing to concede control until he had completed his duty.
    Cynthia threw her head back and barked out a laugh that hurt Olivia’s ears. “Oh, Latimore, as if Lady Olivia does not know me. At ease, man, and be gone. We will rub along well enough without you.” She laughed again and shook her head at Latimore’s pained expression.
    Latimore caught Olivia’s gaze. His face remained carefully bland, but the pinched skin around his eyes made Olivia think he disapproved of Cynthia’s highhanded maneuverings.
    “That is all, Latimore,” Olivia said. “You may go.”
    When she glanced again at Cynthia, her friend was staring at Lord Milbourn with an avid, hungry look on her face. Cynthia’s plump, red lips hung open, and her eyes glittered as if she were contemplating a particularly scrumptious cake.
    “So.” Cynthia chewed her lower lip and stepped closer to Lord Milbourn. Her gaze traveled from his smart boots up to his well-tailored jacket. “Where were you, Lady Olivia? I went to the school, and it was locked up tighter than a nunnery at night. Must not be late, eh? Not on the first day. Though I cannot complain if you have used the time to recruit Lord Milbourn.” She stepped forward as if to give him a playful hit on the shoulder, but he managed to sidestep her and ease behind the couch Olivia had previously occupied.
    When he glanced at her, his