“At least this one didn’t shatter another one of Lady Westerley’s vases.” Miss Somerset edged Charley out of her way and took up her stance.
Miss Somerset’s second shot wasn’t quite as good as her first one, landing on the inner line of the second circle. Small applause was offered once again. This contest wasn’t proving nearly as entertaining as the crowd had hoped for. Jules glanced around at their faces but was caught by the ironic expression on Greys’ face.
Charley wasn’t fooling him either. No, in fact, this was exactly the sort of thing Greys himself would do. Greys would never accept a wager he wasn’t sure of—one of which he didn’t hold the upper hand.
Charley lifted her bow and lined up her next shot. Jules held his breath. Would she make this one a better shot or equally as spectacularly bad?
Jules folded his arms across his chest, pleased that he had a perfect excuse for watching her.
He knew nothing of romantic love, but by God he wanted her. Losing the bet to her father had been a godsend.
The onlookers gasped as Charley’s arrow landed, if possible, in what would have been the identical position where Miss Somerset’s had stuck if two arrows could penetrate one hole.
Stronger applause erupted this time.
Jules just barely caught sight of the disgusted glance Miss Somerset sent in Charley’s direction. He rubbed his chin as the disgruntled young lady took very careful aim for her last shot. It was as though Charley wanted the lady to take her best shot this time.
And it was a damn good one. The near perfect bullseye sent another gasp of appreciation through the onlookers.
Charley caught him watching her and raised her brows innocently—too innocently. As if to convince him she’d done her best and would most likely lose.
Jules didn’t believe her stance for an instant. He rubbed his hands together when she stepped forward to shoot.
If she won, he would have her to himself for a good part of tomorrow. He would kiss her again. He would make their courtship public once and for all. She’d accept him. Something powerful existed between the two of them that even she could not deny.
The drop of sweat he’d felt at the back of his neck trailed slowly down his back when he noticed what appeared to be an indecisiveness on her part as she aimed.
With her left eye closed, she wavered, paused, wavered and then with what he could only think of as the certainty of an expert, released the string.
Not anearperfect bull’s eye.
A perfect one.
Looking quite matter-of-fact, she nodded in Miss Somerset’s direction. As cheers rose up as well as conciliatory appreciation for Miss Somerset, Charley sent him a sheepish smile.
You’d damn well better pick me, sweetheart.
What if I don’t?her deceivingly innocent expression seemed to say, goading him.
You will.
Stone and Mantis studied the target together, but even from across the room, Jules could easily see Charley’s was the best shot.
“The winner is Miss Jackson,” Stone announced to eliminate any doubt. “A most excellent competition.”
“Now, however,” Greys’ even tone and unconcerned voice silenced everyone, “the question begs to be answered. Who would you have escort you tomorrow?”
Staring as she was at his dear friends, Jules realized she might very well choose one of them. Not because she wanted any of them, but because she had become too attached tohim.
Greys had walked her back to the manor last night, while Jules went after her cloak.
Jules extended a few fingers behind his back so that the cracking sound might not be heard by most.
Charley, however, turned her head to stare back at him. Looking resigned and almost disappointed in herself, she exhaled loudly. “I suppose that I shall have to choose Lord Westerley.” And then she feigned concern in her challenger’s direction. “Who is your choice, Miss Somerset?”
Chapter 20
BUT MY FATHER…
