Bertram looked like a vein was popping in the side of his neck. He glared at her and Adam before turning back to the target. He then prepared to throw, moving his arm forward and back a few times for the onlookers.
“Will this take long?” Mary asked. “I had hopes of seeing the acrobats for their next performance.”
Bertram ignored her and released the knife. It landed about two inches to the right of the center.
“Is it best of two or just the single throw?” Adam asked.
“Just the one,” Bertram said smugly. “I doubt you’ll get near me.”
“You go next, sir.” Mary motioned for Adam to pick up a knife. “I wonder if we should have a small wager before we throw?”
Bertram looked at his friends, who all roared with laughter.
“The loser has to walk about crowing like a rooster,” someone called. “You’ll be another attraction!”
“Or mooing like a cow!”
“Quacking like a duck?”
“You choose,” Mary said to Bertram the Beastly.
“Can she throw a knife?” Nathan looked at Abby.
“I have no idea.”
But Zach had a feeling she could, and well. How he knew that he had no idea. But he also knew that whatever game she was playing it had to do with her ability to fight, and last night she’d done just that to protect herself and Plunge.
He would find out everything, he vowed, and that would happen tonight.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Mary shot her sister and mother a look, but they were still standing there chatting with Lord and Lady Bathlehume and their son a short distance from where she now stood with Adam. The Bathlehume’s eldest son was on Phillipa’s prospective husband list, and therefore her sister had blinkers on and would not be checking on where Mary had gone anytime soon.
“Very well, if one of you two wants to crow like a rooster, then so be it,” the horrid Bertram said.
Mary had seen him harassing Adam, Ruby’s brother, and stepped closer to be at the ready should it be needed. She had met Adam many times and liked the young man. While she had no intention of fighting his battle, she would not stand aside and let anyone bully him.
“You go next, sir,” Mary said to Adam.
“Thank you.” He gave her a smile, and she saw that like her, he was not about to alert anyone that they knew each other.
Adam removed one of his crutches and rested it on the side of the stall. He then picked up the knives, much to the heckling delight of Bertram of little intelligence and his equally brainless friends.
“This will be easy pickings,” Bertram crowed like the rooster he was about to become.
“Need me to brace you, Gimpy,” someone called.
Adam kept a little smile on his face and threw the knife. It landed to the left of the knife Bertram had thrown and closer to the middle target.
The chatter and smugness from behind them stopped, and suddenly there was silence.
“Well now,” Mary said, patting Adam on the shoulder. “Excellent shot, good sir.”
“Many thanks,” Adam said, taking up his second crutch once more.
“Anything to say, Mr. Bertram?” Mary said, shooting him a quick look before she moved into the place Adam had just stepped back from.
Bertram the Brainless had nothing to say other than a loud gulp.
