A light blush pinked Beatrix’s cheeks.
He was speaking the words of courtship one would say to a fiancée. So, there was an element of speaking for show. But these words… He meant them.
Beatrix did, indeed, look lovely in her delicate ivory muslin gown and silver-threaded navy velvet spencer that brought out that hint of violet from her eyes.
Lady Artemis cleared her throat, prompting Beatrix to say, “Lady Artemis, may I introduce Mr. Deverill to you?”
Dev bowed, and the lady dipped in a shallow curtsy. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Deverill. It’s the rare man who could sweep Beatrix off her feet. I look forward to discovering how you accomplished it.” The serious glint in her eye said she would be successful, too.
Another throat cleared with a light, feminine lilt.
Imogen.
He’d rather forgotten her for a moment. She was waiting for him to perform another introduction. “Lady Bridgewater, may I introduce Lady Artemis to you?”
As Imogen held the higher rank through marriage, Lady Artemis dipped in a shallow curtsy. “Ah, Lady Bridgewater, what a delight.”
Imogen nodded like a queen, as if the world had been set right with her place in it acknowledged. “Dev and I were just enjoying a shooting contest.”
The air went suddenly too still.
Dev.
She’d called him Dev—publicly.
Further, she’d placed a hand on his arm.
It felt…proprietary.
He wanted to shake free, but resisted.
Beatrix and Lady Artemis noticed, with the latter subtly lifting an eyebrow. Beatrix glanced away.
“Do you ladies enjoy archery?” asked Imogen.
“I shoot the odd round here and there,” said Lady Artemis.
Imogen’s gaze narrowed on Beatrix. “And you, Lady Beatrix?”
“Can’t say it’s been a pursuit of mine.”
“It’s very simple, really.” Imogen appeared to make up her mind about something on the spot. “I shall give you a lesson.”
Before Dev could think through the consequences of his actions, he was stepping forward and saying, “I’ll show her the basic steps.”
Beatrix’s gaze darted between him and Imogen, as if unsure which prospect horrified her more.
Imogen’s mouth curved into a tight smile. “What a generous and thoughtful fiancé you are, Dev.”
“I’ll shoot with you, Lady Bridgewater.” Lady Artemis signaled for a servant to bring her a bow. “Though I’m not dressed for it as you are. Could you lend me your brace and shooting glove as we go?”
“Of course,” Imogen tossed over her shoulder, as she strode to the haystacks and plucked arrows from the targets.
Lady Artemis followed—which left Dev alone with Beatrix.
She met his gaze with the lift of an eyebrow. “I haven’t the least interest in archery.”
As he was naturally wont to do, Dev saw opportunity. “You’re my fiancée, remember?”
