Miss Delacourt reached up and adjusted her straw hat. “Kendrick told me that Lady Roswell’s actions were nothing less than heroic when she shot Mr. Barnard.”
“Yes, and she is constantly reminding me of such,” he said lightly.
They arrived at the coach and Miss Delacourt removed her arm from his sleeve. “Thank you for escorting me to my coach, sir.”
“You are welcome,” he said. “Until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she asked.
Caleb lifted his brow. “I was going to call upon you so we could become better acquainted with one another.”
Miss Delacourt worked hard to keep the displeasure off her face, but she was unsuccessful. “Wonderful,” she muttered.
Leaning in, he whispered, “Careful, Miss Delacourt. It almost seems as if you don’t enjoy my company.”
A laugh escaped her lips, and she delicately covered her mouth with a gloved hand. “You aren’t as terrible as I once thought.”
“And with that, I shall walk away before you change your mind.”
A footman stepped off his perch to open the door for MissDelacourt. As she held Caleb’s gaze, she said, “Thank you.” There was a quiet sincerity in her voice.
“Whatever for?” he inquired.
Though subtle, her gaze softened just enough to captivate him. “For making me laugh,” she responded.
He bowed, replying, “It was my pleasure.”
As Miss Delacourt settled into the coach, Caleb started walking down the pavement, feeling a sense of accomplishment. He had made some progress with Miss Delacourt, albeit small. He was determined to break through the walls she had built around herself until she could trust him.
That is what any good partner would do, he thought.
Chapter Three
Beneath the midday sun, Simone stood alongside Emilia as she hurled a dagger at the target and watched as it bounced off.
Emilia’s shoulders slumped as she turned to face Simone. “What am I doing wrong?” she asked. “That is the fifth time that the dagger bounced off the target.”
As Simone went to retrieve the dagger, she said, “As you release the dagger, you must flick your wrist forward. This motion should be smooth and controlled.”
“Am I not doing that?” Emilia inquired.
Simone smiled. “You are doing just fine,” she encouraged. “Throwing daggers is a skill that develops over time. You must practice and then practice some more.”
“I can do that.”
“I know you can,” Simone said as she extended the dagger to Emilia. “Now allow your arm to follow through after releasing the dagger. Be sure to keep your eyes on the target.”
Emilia faced the target and brought her left foot slightly forward. She took a deep breath before she released the dagger. It embedded in the target, slightly off center.
“I did it!” Emilia cheered.
“That you did,” Simone said. “And you hit the target.”
Emilia wore a bright smile. “I did, and now I am one step closer to being proficient at throwing daggers.”
Simone walked up to the target and removed the dagger. “How are your shooting lessons going with Lady Roswell?”
“I am spectacularly bad at shooting a pistol,” Emilia admitted. “I will not be a spy any time soon.”
