She opened her mouth, snapped it shut, folded her arms and frowned ferociously. “I don’t have any reputation. And if I did, I wouldn’t care a tuppence about it.”
Alworth regarded her for one moment. She did not care about her own reputation but would die for her friend’s. There were few men who’d do the same. “If you are determined, then, to meet him, I will help you.”
Pen gulped.
“I’m certain you’ll do very well.” Alworth slapped her shoulder, throwing her forward so that she nearly dunked the tip of her nose into her coffee. “Anyone is able to shoot better than Blackstone. And now, to shooting practice.”
Alworth enjoyed himself immensely.Pen was, possibly, the worst shot he’d ever seen. She had no sense of aim whatsoever. Her grip on the flintlock was too low and so hard, her knuckles whitened at her clutch. She scrunched up her entire face in deep concentration and levelled the pistol. She shut both eyes, then fired.
“Did I hit it?” she asked after she opened her eyes again.
Alworth shook his head. “Congratulations. You assassinated the cherry tree. You shot off an entire branch. That’s no mean feat.”
“Really?” Pen beamed.
Alworth sighed. “No. I was being sarcastic. You were supposed to hit the bullseye on the target.”
The target was a good two feet to the left.
“Oh.”
“Whoever stands near Blackstone tomorrow had better write his will today,” Alworth muttered. “Keep your eyes open. Never lose sight of your target. Loosen your grip. You need a quieter hand if you want to hit Blackstone. Not that the fellow is easy to miss, with his dimensions.”
Alworth helped her aim by moving her hand to the right. Some strands of her hair tickled his nose. They smelled of honeysuckle.
“Keep in mind, you want to hit Blackstone. Not his Second. Nor, heaven forbid, the surgeon. Speaking of which. Who isyourSecond?”
“I don’t have any.”
“Confound it, brat. You can’t go to a duel without a Second! I see I will have to be your Second.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“Nonsense. Of course I have to. You are using my pistols, after all.”
Alworth made a mental note to revise his will for good measure. It might not be such a bad idea to stay away from Blackstone’s vicinity as well. Especially when she aimed.
She looked at him sheepishly. “I am most grateful. I am terribly sorry to inconvenience you so.”
“Take another aim,” he told her after he reloaded the pistol.
She shot and hit the branch on the right, not even brushing the target.
“There goes the surgeon,” Alworth said cheerfully.
They practicedfor several hours until Alworth declared it was time to go to White’s.
“Is that all you ever do?” Pen asked him, as she sat beside him on the curricle. “Sleep until noon, break the fast, then go to White’s to eat some more? And play cards. Must be a hard life, indeed.”
“Yes, my child. And the tailor. One should not underestimate the time one needs at the tailor.” He flicked an imaginary speck of dust away from his sleeve. “It is most imperative to get perfectly fitted and tailored garments.”
She shook her head. “Don’t you have a family to take care of?” she blurted out.
“A family?” he uttered a short laugh.
“Well, you do have a family, do you not?”
He hooded his eyes. “I have a younger brother and a sister, yes. And a gaggle of nieces and nephews. I lost count. I daresay I have an elderly aunt somewhere as well. All of us meet once a year at Christmas. Alas. After a fortnight, all of us are more than happy never to see each other’s visages again, and we cannot wait to proceed with our own lives.” He gripped his reins tighter than was necessary.
