“Oh, I think for archery, green is best. Didn’t you tell me Robin Hood wore green, my lady?”
“Yes, well, that was Lincoln green, and my dress is more of a leaf-green, but I think you’re right. Let’s put on the green. And then we’ll figure out this contraption.”
“Yes, my lady.”
George had planned to leave at first light but decided against it. He did not deserve an escape. He did not deserve to spare himself pain. He would flagellate himself for Phoebe.
Only after he had heard the banns read in church and seen Phoebe and Thornwick looking at each other in the pew in front of him, did he realize, once again, how inconsiderate he had been. He should not have been thinking of what he deserved. He should have been thinking ofher. Of Phoebe. She didn’t deserve to have him here, ruining her happiness. Although he still thought Thornwick wouldn’t make her happy.
Shut it. She thinks it. That’s what’s important.
He was about to make his excuses, to have Morton pack him and ready his carriage, when he heard Thornwick tell Phoebe about the targets, the bows, the arrows.
He saw Phoebe’s delight and the smile she gave Thornwick. It was the first genuine smile George had seen from her since his arrival. He had taken that smile for granted his whole life, hadn’t he? And now that it was gone, or not directed at himself, he realized how much of a gift her smile had always been.
And he rememberedhisgift for her, the one he had hounded his saddle maker to finish before Thursday when he had meant to present it to her at tea. That loathsome, dreadful tea. Of course, the thing had not been ready by then. Damned saddler. Although the man had warned him it might take some time as it was a very strange thing George wanted him to make. The little leather shield had been delivered on Saturday morning and he had taken it with him when he had left London with Edmund and William for Thornwick’s estate.
He had hoped it would be part of his and Phoebe’s reconciliation. A reconciliation, despite Alice’s schemes, that would never happen now.
George climbed the stairs to his bedchamber.
He would let himself have one little crumb more of selfishness where Phoebe was concerned. He would allow himself the pleasure of giving her the gift and the pleasure of watchingherpleasure as she shot some arrows. He had never taken an interest in her archery, and now he realized he had never seen Phoebe use her bow when she had watched so many of his fencing lessons in the gardens of the Danforth estate, read his monographs before they went to the printers, heard him practice his speeches before he gave them in the House of Lords.
What attention she had paid him. And he had paid her practically none, except over the damned chessboard. And then twice in his own bed and once in hers.
And now he longed to pay her attention. He craved it. He wanted to dedicate every single waking second of the rest of his life to paying her attention. And she didn’t want it.
He got upstairs quickly and gave her the shield through their connecting doors and was glad she didn’t refuse it. He hoped he hadn’t embarrassed her in front of her lady’s maid.
He strolled out to the lawn. The whole party eventually collected there, save Thornwick’s mother who had been absent the whole day. And Phoebe.
“Thornwick, your butler told me there is talk of a wild boar in the area,” William Dagenham said, grinning. “We must keep an eye out and protect the ladies.”
“Surely not.” This was Lady Anne Cavendish. “The wild boar was hunted to extinction in England by the seventeenth century.”
“The sixteenth,” growled Edmund.
“You are mistaken, my lord.” Lady Anne’smy lorddripped with disdain.
“I am not, my lady.” Edmund mademy ladysound likeidiot.
Thornwick interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “Just some pig that escaped from its sty and has gone feral. Pigs are quite smart, you know. Smarter than dogs.” He frowned, looked at his watch and then back at the house.
George could do something for Phoebe, perform a small service. He could distract Thornwick from her tardiness.
“Lovely cool breeze you have here at your estate.”
“Don’t give the man credit for the breeze, George.” William laughed. “Although, knowing Thornwick, he likely thinks he magicked it up himself for our benefit.”
“It’s always cooler here than in town,” Thornwick said, his face and voice bland.
“You have very lovely gardens, Your Grace,” George commented, knowing from yesterday evening that this was a point of pride for the man, one he would be willing to talk about for hours. And last night, he had.
“Yes.” Thornwick looked at his watch again.
“Uh, that’s a handsome watch.” Blast. Why had George drawn attention to the watch, to the time, to the fact that it was taking Phoebe so long to dress? “Is it reliable?”
“Yes. In fact, I intend to have one made to match it, a small one, and give it to my wife on our wedding night to put a stop to occasions such as this one.”
