On a confidential mission to nineteenth century Saint Petersburg, Lady Constance Tramayne, of the British Secret Service, managed, in the guise of an impecunious English governess, to infiltrate the household of Colonel of Cossacks, Sergei Suvorov, Deputy Director of Russian Counter Intelligence. The Colonel had his suspicions about Lady Constance's motives, but was entranced by her cool English beauty, and bided his time, with thoughts of seduction in mind.

Colonel Suvorov's eldest daughter, Natasha, the illegitimate offspring of a Tartar woman of the Steppes, had other ideas, however. She resented the imperious English Lady's no nonsense approach to daily lessons, and her stiff-backed determination to teach the half savage young woman refined manners and civilized deportment. Natasha was envious of the way her younger half sisters idolized the new governess, and was especially  jealous of the amorous glances her father bestowed on the beautiful red haired governess. Like her father, she grew suspicious of the Englishwoman's constant prying and questioning.  She would like nothing better than to prove the English governess was a spy.

Neither was there any love lost on  Lady Constance's part  for Natasha. Natasha was fond of bullying her younger half sisters, and Lady Constance  had an English distaste for bullies.  She had recently discovered Natasha in her room, going through her things, and she hated sneaks. Moreover, though she was loathe to admit it even to herself, she suspected some unnatural relationship between the father and a daughter. As it happened her suspicions were not unwarranted.

Things came to a head one morning, when Lady Constance tactlessly criticized Natasha's translation of an exercise in French grammar, she had assigned the girl to prepare. Natasha flew into a rage. In her fury, she challenged the governess to a bare-knuckled boxing match, hoping to intimidate her nemesis. Lady Constance was shocked by the girl's ungovernable, intemperate behavior. Certainly not what one would expect from an English girl of that age. English ladies did not settle their differences with their fists, like stable hands.

Though shocked, the Englishwoman was not intimidated, one iota. The athletic Lady Constance was well trained in pugilism by her father and brothers, and possessed every confidence in her abilities.  She determined that acceptance of the challenge might well be the best means to establish a firm rein on the headstrong, young woman.  In her heart, she rather relished the chance to teach the hateful, little sneak and bully, a well deserved lesson in good manners. She calmly accepted the unconventional challenge.

Hearing the commotion, Colonel Suvorov entered the lesson room in time to hear the challenge and acceptance. He smilingly acquiesced to the unorthodox disciplinary proceeding. No one enjoyed a fight between two women more than the Cossack Colonel.

A short time later, in the stable yard of the Colonel's town house, under the Colonel's own watchful eye, the match began.

The distaff  pugilists circled warily for a few moments, before Lady Constance decided the time was ripe to administer a stiff lesson in English fisticuffs to the insufferable nineteen year old. Fists snapping, smartly, her red hair flying in the crisp morning air, she battered her young foe around the impromptu squared circle, before knocking her off her feet with a mighty right uppercut to the chin. The knockdown ended the first round.

Colonel Suvorov helped his daughter to her feet in time to meet the thirty second deadline. As he did, he whispered a word of fatherly advice in her ear.

Lady Constance was disgusted that Colonel Suvorov allowed the unequal contest to continue for another round. "Has the man no regard for his own daughter?"  She wondered indignantly.  "Well, I shall go easy on the gel, this time, as she has no doubt, learned her lesson!"

As the second round began, though, Lady Constance discovered that the only lesson Natasha had learned was that she hated to lose. Moreover, she was no "gentleman" when it came to fighting, and would stoop to any means to win.

As the Englishwoman assumed  the traditional boxing stance, the wily Cossack girl seized her forearms, and held them pinned to her sides long enough to drive her knee between the thighs, zeroing in on a most delicate and  painful target.  Caught off guard by the despicable tactic, the stunned Lady Constance was wide open to the grinning Russian girl's revitalized attack.

After a fearful pounding, Lady Constance slumped to her knees, her head reeling; the knockdown ending the second round.

Before Lady Constance could gather her wits and stumble to her corner, Natasha committed one more outrageous foul, then turned and strutted back to her own corner.

Round 3.

Lady Constance was badly hurt by Natasha's fists and even more so by the vicious, unprincipled girl's final dastardly kick, yet she was English, and would never-say-die or concede defeat while she could raise her arms.  With extreme difficulty, she stumbled to her feet, before the mandatory thirty second deadline. Still dizzy and sick to her stomach from Natasha's foul, though, she was scarcely ready for the Russian girl's ruthless attack.

Badly hurt as she was, Lady Constance struggled to one knee. As she did, Natasha turned back, grabbed her by the hair, and smashed her fist into the Englishwoman's breast.