Those economics added up.
“Mr. Deverill?” he heard at his back.
He knew the voice to the marrow of his bones—Imogen.
He turned and found her looking as exquisite as ever, her plain brown wool shooting costume somehow only enhancing her lush beauty.
Being a countess did suit her.
“Would you care for a friendly round of archery?”
And here was the second of Dev’s two opportunities as host presenting itself.
Time with Imogen.
His entire reason for hosting a country house party in the first place—lest he forget.
“Of course,” he said. Her husband didn’t take notice as he settled deeper into his newspaper.
The glint of competition shone in Imogen’s eyes and smile. She was an expert in the sport of archery. Far superior to Dev, in fact.
He moved toward the target-shooting area where pairs of haystacks were set up beside each other. Fifty yards opposite stood corresponding pairs of haystacks. As they competed, they would shoot from one end to the other in rotation.
Dev couldn’t understand why his feet felt heavy. He was getting what he wanted—time with Imogen. Yet his eyes kept darting toward the house every time a new figure emerged. But it was always a servant moving to this or that task set by the guests.
It was never Beatrix.
Where had she got off to this morning, anyway?
Shouldn’t she be here, making Imogen jealous?
Really, she might be in breach of their arrangement.
But mostly, he was genuinely curious what she was doing this very moment.
She’d disappeared into the house yesterday evening—and he hadn’t seen her since.
They still needed to talk.
Except…perhaps they didn’t.
Now, he had this golden opportunity to spend time with Imogen.
It was possible the rest was up to him, and he didn’t need Beatrix anymore.
The idea didn’t sit comfortably inside him.
In fact, every cell of his body rejected it.
“Dev?” Imogen was smiling, but a question flicked in her eyes.
He’d been staring at the house again.
He accepted a bow from a waiting footman and joined her at the nearest pair of haystacks.
“Remember how we would spend entire afternoons seeing who could hit the most bullseyes?”
“I remember you always winning,” he said. “That was a long time ago.”
