“Did you let her win?” Constance asked as she brought Renault a tankard of ale on the quarterdeck.
He shook his head. “No, she’s good,” he replied as he gulped down the amber liquid. “I didn’t want to admit it, but you might be right about her. Those moves, that aggression, it isn’t something you typically see in a servant girl, or most women I might add.”
She smacked him. “Wait until you fight me.”
“Clothes on or off?” Renault teased.
Constance giggled. “You couldn’t handle clothes off.”
“I would bet good silver you couldn’t either.” The grin on her face betrayed her answer to that.
Emilie approached the two. “No hard feelings?” she said, extending her hand to the tired Frenchman.
He took it and she pulled him up. “Of course not, but next time I won’t take it so easy.”
“Neither w
