His lips fought valiantly to tug upward. The minx thought to challenge him, did she?
“You believe, after one brief instruction, you can best a man who has been shooting since he was in short pants?”
Her amber irises flashed with devilry. “Only one way to find out.”
“Pistol match!” his daughter shouted, bouncing on her toes.
Lady Felicity turned to his sprightly daughter, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her face. “Precisely what I had in mind, Pandora.”
“I’ll go put fresh bullseyes on the targets!”
Ash opened his mouth, but his daughter was already racing to the targets. They had servants for that. But honestly, his daughter needed to run. She needed to move, be free from restraints. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the world they lived in. Their world was restraint.
A dense weight settled low in his chest, one tied to his lungs, swinging slowly, dragging him down. By granting his daughter such freedom, he also set her on a path toward inevitable failure. Society would tear her to pieces. Feed her to the dogs.
He puffed out his lips on a breath, feeling as though he had deflated into the rain-saturated ground beneath his feet. Now was not the time for wallowing. He would reach out to acquaintances about a new governess for Pandora this week. He glanced at Lady Felicity from the corner of his eye and caught her studying him, her head tilted. As though she found him curious.
A footman approached and gestured to the small stand at the edge of the range. “Three pistols each have been prepared for you and the lady, Your Grace,” he said. “And a light repast awaits whenever it suits you and the ladies.”
Ash nodded and grunted his thanks. Time to distract himself with winning a pistol competition.
“Ready to lose, Your Grace?”
Her smile was back—the small one. The knowing one. The one that made it seem like she held a secret. He wasn’t sure if she was talking about pistols or seduction. But in both cases, he was determined to avoid defeat.
“I hate to disappoint you, Lady Felicity, but I do not see this day as being the day the pupil surpasses the master.”
She walked past him on her way to the stand with the pistols. “I think you may be confused, Duke, about who truly is the master here.”
He tipped his head back on a huff of laughter, and something panged low in his belly at her calling himDuke. She was a brazen one, playful. And he was trying very,veryhard not to like that about her.
He wasn’t succeeding.
They lined up at their targets, Pandora hurrying back to join them.
His daughter leaned toward Lady Felicity. “I have every confidence in you, Felicity,” she said in an overloud whisper.
He frowned and shot her a glare that lacked any real heat. His daughter stuck her tongue out at him.
“Sorry, Papa, but my allegiance is with Felicity. She makes hand pies with me.”
His lips pressed in a small curve. That she did. She had made quite the impression on his daughter.
Lady Felicity bumped Pandora jovially with her hip. “Us women must stick together. Never fear, I will show your papa what women are capable of.”
He feared that. Very much.
“We each will take three shots,” he blurted, desperately needing to shoot his pistol. “We will alternate. Ladies first. Each round, whoever is closer to the bullseye will be marked the winner. Best of three, wins.”
A servant handed a pistol to Felicity, and she stepped up to the target. She followed his earlier instruction to the letter. She was a natural with a weapon. Which really shouldn’t surprise him in the least. He had thought he’d seen flashes of a warrior inside the demure young woman. It was clear to him now. At her core, that was who she truly was. Instead of armor of metal and iron, her shield was grace.
The pistol’s deafening bang echoed around them, Lady Felicity’s face set in a grim mask. Determined. Confident. Mesmerizing—
“Another bullseye!” his daughter shouted.
Bloody fuck. His gaze whipped to the target. That was fine. He rolled his shoulders. He hit dead center more often than not.
He took the pistol from a servant, aimed, and fired.
