The Fencing Master by Arturo Pérez-Reverte Read Free Book Online Page A

First Empire; most were written in French. Don Jaime excused himself for a moment and, going into the bedroom, exchanged his dressing gown for a frock coat, hurriedly tying his tie. When he returned to the living room, the young woman was studying an old oil painting, grown dark with the years, hanging on the wall between ancient swords and rusty daggers.

    "Is he a member of your family?" she asked, pointing to the thin, youthful, rather severe face looking back at them from within the frame. The man was dressed in the fashion of the early part of the century, and his pale eyes regarded the world as if he found it not entirely convincing. His broad brow and his air of dignified austerity gave him a marked resemblance to Don Jaime.
    "He's my father."
    Señora de Otero looked from the portrait to Don Jaime and back again at the portrait, as if to test the truth of his words. She seemed satisfied. "A handsome man," she said in that pleasant, slightly hoarse voice. "How old was he when he sat for the painting?"
    "I don't know. He died when he was thirty-one, two months before I was born, fighting against Napoleon's troops."
    "He was a soldier?" The young woman seemed genuinely interested in the story.
    "No, he was an Aragonese gentleman, one of those upright men who hate being told what to do. He took to the hills with a group of other men and killed Frenchmen until they killed him." A tremor of pride shook the fencing master's voice. "They say he died alone, hunted down like a dog, berating in excellent French the soldiers who came for him with their bayonets."
    She remained for a moment with her eyes fixed on the portrait, as she had done all the while he spoke. She bit her lower lip thoughtfully, but the enigmatic smile made indelible by that small scar lingered at the corner of her mouth. Then she turned slowly to face him.

    "I am aware that my presence here disturbs you, Don Jaime."
    He avoided her gaze, not knowing what to say. Señora de Otero removed her hat and put it down, along with the parasol, on the paper-strewn table. She was wearing her hair gathered at the back of her neck, as she had on their first meeting. It struck Don Jaime that her blue dress added an unusual note of color to the room's otherwise austere décor.
    "May I sit down?" Charm and seduction. It was clear that this was not the first time she had made use of these weapons. "I was out for a walk, and this heat is stifling."
    Don Jaime muttered a hurried excuse for his lack of consideration and asked her to have a seat in a leather armchair worn and cracked with use. He drew up a footstool for himself, placed it at a reasonable distance from her, and sat stiff and circumspect. He cleared his throat, determined not to allow himself to be dragged into terrain whose dangers he could all too easily foresee.
    "What can I do for you, Señora de Otero?"
    His cold, courteous tone only accentuated the lovely stranger's smile. Stranger for, although he knew her name, thought Don Jaime, everything else about this woman was veiled in mystery. Regretfully, what had at first been only a spark of curiosity inside him was rapidly growing, gaining ground. He struggled to control his feelings, awaiting a reply. She did not speak at first, but took her time with what seemed to the fencing master almost exasperating calmness. She gazed about the room, as if to find in it signs by which she could evaluate the man she had before her. Don Jaime took the opportunity to study the features that had so filled his thoughts in recent days. Her mouth was full and well formed, like a cut made by a knife in a red, ripe fruit. He thought again that the scar at the corner of her mouth, far from marring her looks, gave her a special attractiveness, hinting at dark violence.

    From the moment that she had appeared at his door, Don Jaime had resolved, whatever her arguments might be, to restate his initial refusal. He would never take on a woman pupil. He expected pleas, feminine