Gray snorted.
It was a decidedly indelicate noise.
Every head swung his way.
“Two hundred paces? As in, two hundred yards?” Gray fixed Captain Balfour with a contemptuous lift of one eyebrow. “Impossible. A man can scarcely see that far, much less make an accurate shot.”
Colonel Archer sat back in his seat, lips pressed together in amusement. The gentleman was almost ridiculously affable, Isla decided. What would it take to spark the smallest flash of irritation?
Though she had to admit she shared her brother’s skepticism. She doubted her Tavish had rarely fired a rifle before enlisting, much less been a crack shot. It beggared belief that he could have developed such a true aim so quickly.
“I assure you I do not exaggerate, Your Grace,” Colonel Archer said. “I saw the whole with my own eyes. It was an astonishing feat of marksmanship.”
“Aye,” Captain Ross chimed in, “and made all the more remarkable because Lieutenant Wilsonknewthat Captain Balfour wouldn’t strike his hand.”
Captain Balfour, notably, said nothing in his own defense. Merely spooned jam onto a roll and took a bite, as casual as you please.
Gray watched him chew, though when next the duke spoke, it was to Colonel Archer.
“I do not doubt what youthoughtyou saw, Archer. Only Balfour’s abilities.” Gray’s tone implied that perhaps some trickery had been afoot. That Captain Balfour’s impressive display had been duplicitous.
If Gray thought to dampen Colonel Archer’s enthusiasm, he was greatly mistaken. “Hah! Your Grace, with all due respect, you didn’t serveand fight alongside Captain Balfour for nearly seven years like Ross and I. I’ve seen Balfour make a shot like that more times than I can count. He could have taken the shot at three hundred paces and still hit his mark.”
“Aye,” Captain Ross agreed. “Balfour is ridiculously modest, but he was generally considered one of the best shots in the Rifles.”
“And that,” Colonel Archer added, “is tantamount to saying he is one of the best shots in the whole of the British Empire.”
Gray merely lifted his eyebrows.
Captain Balfour continued to eat his roll, as if the conversation were of no consequence.
Silence descended once more.
Isla reached for her tea, her throat suddenly gone dry. She still struggled to imagine her Tavish as a crack shot. Though, she thought wryly, his long-ago aim at her heart had been true.
Captain Balfour’s gaze flicked to hers. It was the tiniest movement, but Isla saw the dark amusement there. He found Gray’s protests entertaining. Which meant that his friends’ words were true.
The reaction was also a smidgen of her Tavish. Though she had never seen him around others, she supposed he would be like this. Content to permit friends to talk up his strengths before proving them correct in some way. A jest of sorts.
Isla disliked seeing her Tavish in Captain Balfour. It abraded the scab atop the wound of his loss.
He is a stranger to you, she reminded herself. Just listening to him and his fellow officers talk about fighting in Spain and Portugal yesterday . . . the camaraderie of their relationship, the way they would complete one another’s sentences, the shared jokes and knowing looks.
Captain Balfour had lived a lifetime of experiences without her.
It was the indomitable Miss Crowley who broke the quiet. “’Tis a pity you gentlemen do not have your rifles here, so we could put the claim to the test.”
The beatific smile that lit Colonel Archer’s face probably caused lilies to bloom somewhere in the Amazon.
“My dear Miss Crowley, my mother requested we bring our regimentals. Therefore, I am more than pleased to inform you that we formerofficers do, indeed, have rifles and uniforms in our possession. Do we not, gentlemen?” He looked to his friends.
Captain Balfour and Captain Ross both nodded.
Colonel Archer stood, giving Gray a brief bow. “Your Grace, may I formally invite you to test your shooting skills against those of His Majesty’s Rifles. Perhaps that will help you understand why the Rifles were one of the most respected and feared regiments in Wellington’s army.”
Isla was watching Captain Balfour as Colonel Archer spoke. The wicked delight in his eyes said it all.
If Isla’s suspicions were proven correct, Gray was about to be thoroughly schooled.
