He turned and looked at her. “I rearranged some things.”
Her gaze was steely, not unlike her daughter’s when Phoebe was losing. But George had almost forgotten that look, Phoebe had won so many games in the last year.
“It’s such a pity your routine has been disrupted. Surely, you will very soon be needed back in London. After all, there’s nothing here for you. Now.”
“The wager has been agreed upon,” Thornwick called out. “It’s between Lady Phoebe and Lord Dagenham only.” Lady Grace was shaking her head as she walked away, handing her bow to a footman.
“Each archer is to have three arrows,” Thornwick continued. “Whoever has the fewest arrows in the center of the target at the end is to sing for the company this evening after dinner. A draw will be decided by an additional two arrows each.”
The company, barring George and Alice, clapped their hands. Even Phoebe’s mother released George’s arm so she could clap.
Phoebe had no musical talent. She never sang in public. She had confessed many times of being petrified of ever being called upon to do so. What had induced Phoebe to accept this wager?
Thornwick, of course. And also the knowledge she would almost certainly win. But it was not like Phoebe to take a chance like that. Only on the chessboard—and in the bedchamber, George reminded himself—was Lady Phoebe Finch daring.
George exchanged looks with a furious Alice.
“And I will pay Lady Phoebe’s forfeit if she should lose!” Alice shouted out.
A good woman, his sister. Alice knew several comical songs and enough of the pianoforte to accompany herself with a few chords. And no one would ever accuse Alice of being shy.
“No, Miss Danforth! No, you will not,” Thornwick shouted back. “You must have very little confidence in your friend’s skill to say that.”
Alice had moved toward George. “But I have every confidence that man is an arsehole,” she said under her breath.
George shot a glance at the Duchess of Abingdon. She had apparently not heard what Alice had said because she continued to gaze at Thornwick, her smile fixed in place.
William and Phoebe flipped a coin. William would go first with one arrow, then Phoebe would use two of her arrows, William would use two, and if there was any remaining question as to the winner of the match, Phoebe would use her last arrow. If it ended in a draw, the extra arrows would come into play.
William took his stance. Now, George paid attention to him. His form was not on a par with Phoebe’s, but George suddenly remembered William Dagenham had been in the army before his older brother had died and left him the title. But surely, in this day and age, the army still didn't train soldiers in archery? Weren’t they all about cannons and rifles now?
William hit the edge of the target with his first arrow. No point for him. A sympathetic groan from the group.
Phoebe’s first arrow hit the center dead on. A cheer rose up, George trying to cheer the loudest of all. But he was drowned out by Alice’s roar of approval.
A wind came up. Phoebe had already brought her second arrow to her bow and notched it, but now she lowered the bow and arrow together. She said something to William.
“Lady Phoebe thinks the group as a whole, including the footmen, should move away for safety’s sake. The breeze!”
“Wait for the wind to die down, Phee!” George shouted as he and the whole group stepped back. Both Thornwick and the Duchess of Abingdon glared at him.
In fairness, Phoebe waited quite a while. The spectators grew restless, and George knew she sensed it.
“Come on, Lady Phoebe. It’s not life or death. Just shoot the arrow,” Thornwick called out.
Phoebe nodded and raised her bow. She closed her eyes. She frowned.
Wait.A frown has no place in her preparation.
George wanted to shout and stop her. But he didn’t. She let the arrow fly. The wind took it, and it missed the target entirely.
A collective groan.
And then, mysteriously, as quickly as it had come up, the wind died down. Disappeared.
“Aeolus is on my side today, eh, Lady Phoebe?” Lord Dagenham said loudly and grinned and notched his arrow.
George had always thought William Dagenham a rather amusing fellow but right now he hated him and his grin.
