He looked blank and she grinned. It was so incredibly satisfying to stump him.
“Yes. How are they?”
“My archery skills? Nonexistent.”
“Oh, dear, now that is a disappointment.”
“Oh, I am sorry to hear those words from you, Miss Mayne.” It was Mr. Rostham speaking, as he approached them. He came empty handed, she noticed. “Whiddon,” he greeted the earl and turned to her. “I must apologize. I fear I let myself get distracted. I was speaking with a friend as we waited, and I missed our chance at an ice.” He shrugged and gave her an apologetic smile, then looked to Whiddon. “But at least I am not alone. How have you disappointed the lady, sir?”
“With my lack of expertise with a bow and arrow, it would seem.”
“Why?” Rostham looked around. “Are they setting up targets? I hadn’t heard. But I warn you, Whiddon, do not try to compete with Miss Mayne. She’s a ringer at bowls and a threat to a man’s masculine confidence.”
Charlotte stilled as Whiddon ran a flagrant eye over her, tracing a leisurely path down and back up again.
“I think my masculinity is up to Miss Mayne’s every trick.”
She suppressed a shiver, even as something inside her trembled, then opened up to let loose a stream of chaotic feeling. Thrill and more than a hint of craving and . . . caution.
Lord Unobtainable, she reminded herself.
Hiding any sign of the turmoil he called up so easily, she rolled her eyes at him. “Very funny, I am sure, my lord. Now, if you are through sharpening your wit at my expense, I must tell you I lament your answer. Is it true? You don’t haveanyexpertise with a bow?”
“Never touched one in my life.”
“Well. That’s an opportunity missed.”
“I’m a crack shot with a pistol. Does that redeem me?”
“No.” She shook her head. “That won’t do at all.”
“I tried my hand at archery when I was a lad,” Rostham interjected. “My cousin still likes to keep her skills sharp. She hosts an archery club for ladies at home in Sussex. Perhaps I can speak to her and arrange an afternoon’s shooting?”
She gave him a warm smile. “Oh, that would be lovely,” she said appreciatively. “What fun. You must be sure to invite Lord Whiddon so he can try his hand at it.”
“Of course,” Rostham assured them.
Charlotte glanced over to find the earl had fixed her with an intense stare.
“You were discussing art with Penelope earlier?” he asked. “Did I hear you say you are a painter?”
She flushed. “No, no. It is something that I once enjoyed, but I haven’t actually painted in quite some time.” She hurried on before either of them could ask why. “I do enjoy art so very much, though. It is one of the joys of coming to London. There seems to be some great piece around every corner.”
Whiddon snorted.
“Very true,” Rostham agreed. “I am fond of a good history painting myself. The battle scenes, especially, capture the imagination.”
The weight of the earl’s gaze lay heavy upon her again. “I would wager Miss Mayne is a fan of portraiture.”
“I am,” she admitted. “I’m terribly apt to wander in people’s houses, gazing at their ancestors.”
“A trait you share with Penelope,” he said wryly.
“I admit, though, that I am also fond of lithographs and prints, especially if they are a study of character. Or of a place.”
The earl raised a brow. “Such as theCostume of Yorkshire?”
Her mouth dropped open. “You know it? Yes, that sort of thing exactly.”
