She smiled, bright and unguarded, before remembering herself. Then voices carried across the field.
“Your Grace.”
“Lady Cassandra.”
They stepped apart at once. When they returned, Cassandra found that something in her had shifted. She shot again, and again. The final arrow landed cleanly in the center ring, and applause followed. She turned instinctively toward the Duke, excitement lighting her face. He smiled, and the sight of it startled her.
Throughout the rest of the day, however, the atmosphere changed.
Lady Sylvia and the Dowager Duchess appeared everywhere at once. A conversation interrupted here, a partner reassigned there.
Cassandra noticed, and she assumed that he did too. They exchanged glances across rooms, across tables, across carefully orchestrated distance. And yet, Cassandra carried something new with her.
She did not hate the man she was expected to marry.
And she suspected that feeling was becoming mutual.
Chapter Twelve
The picnic had been the Dowager’s idea.
George knew that she had been in control of it all too. He knew it by the careful way it separated the party. The ladies were arranged beneath the trees with blankets and baskets, while the men were invited to shoot at targets set farther up the field.
Order was restored, propriety maintained, and he was kept away from the lady he was to marry.
And yet, he welcomed the distance more than he cared to admit. When he was near Cassandra, he had to consider that she was more pleasing than he had first thought, and that was dangerous. Their match was to be nothing more than a way to protect her reputation, and if he fell for her, it made that impossible.
“What has happened to you?” Brandon asked as they took their positions. “You look as though you wish to be anywhere but here.”
“I am not sleeping well, that is all. You know how I feel about large events.”
He took his position, and the arrow struck the center. Brandon whistled at it, as did some of the other gentlemen.
“You are taking this very seriously.”
George reached for another arrow.
“It is a skill worth maintaining. One never knows when they shall need to use a bow and arrow.”
“And it has nothing to do with you helping Lady Cassandra with it? You certainly seemed to enjoy it, in any case.”
“I do not know what you mean by that.”
His friend chuckled, taking his own shot. It landed just outside of the center ring, and neither of them mentioned it. The truth was that George had, indeed, enjoyed helping Lady Cassandra with her archery, but he did not want his friend to think too much of it.
“There is no shame in assisting a lady,” Brandon said simply.
“I am aware. Yes, it was pleasant to help, and satisfying when it made a difference, but there was nothing more to it than that.”
“If you insist.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it is how I feel. Sherton, if you truly believe that you feel nothing for the girl, then I shall not try to convince you otherwise. You are more than capable of seeing it for what it is by yourself.”
It was precisely what he wanted to hear, but George could not help but wish that his friend would argue the point more with him. He did not know why, but he wanted someone to tell him what they truly thought, rather than only ever trying to appease him because he was considered important.
He took another shot, and it was once again in the center.
