"No." His answer came quickly. "The fault was mine."
Elizabeth looked at him then and felt his eyes hot against her skin. "I do not think either of us can claim the whole of it."
His gaze held hers for a moment before he set down the bow he had been examining. "Then perhaps it would be best if we agreed to forget the matter entirely."
She had expected him to say something of the kind. It was sensible and would spare them both further embarrassment. Even so, the ease with which he dismissed it caught her strangely unprepared. She felt a pang of disappointment that she did her best to push down and ignore.
"Yes," she said in a voice that seemed strangely stilted to her ears. "That would be best."
Darcy inclined his head and reached for another bow. Elizabeth did the same, though she found herself checking the string twice before realising she had already done so. She could feel his presence beside her with an awareness that made the simplest movement difficult, from the brush of his sleeve against hers to the low sound of his breathing when he bent to examine the grip.
After a moment, Darcy said, "I believe this one is sound."
"As is this one," she breathed.
Their hands met as they both reached to return their bows to the rack. Neither moved at once. His fingers rested lightly against hers, warm and still, and the memory of his hand closing around hers upon the terrace returned with such force that Elizabeth's breath caught.
Darcy withdrew first. "Forgive me."
Elizabeth almost laughed, though her voice was soft and sincere when she replied. "We appear determined to spend the morning apologising to one another."
His expression changed, the severity leaving it as his eyes dropped briefly to her mouth before returning to hers. "Then let us stop. We must stop."
"Agreed," she answered, not quite certain what she was agreeing to.
They both returned to their work. Darcy took a step away from her before reaching for the next bow, and if Elizabeth was uneasy at the distance he had placed between them, she gave no outward sign of it.
Chapter Fifteen
The teams took their places upon the lawn, each competitor permitted three arrows before the scores were added together. The gentlemen began with confidence. Sir Geoffrey was a competent bowsman and struck the bullseye with his final shot. Mr Ashcombe shot with practised ease, while the Blackwood brothers handled their bows with the comfortable familiarity of men who had competed against one another since boyhood. Colonel Fitzwilliam proved steady, placing all three arrows within the inner rings, while Captain Fanshawe surprised everyone by shooting almost as well. Darcy shot with his usual control and missed the centre only once. Even Hadley, who claimed not to have loosed an arrow in years, struck the target twice.
The ladies were less consistent, though Clara Sitcombe and Miss Drummond both shot well enough to keep the result close. Lady Frances was competent, Miss Grey proved unexpectedly accurate and Miss Bennet sent all three arrows into the target with considerable skill. Richard applauded so warmly that several of his teammates turned to look at him with displeasure.
Miss Elizabeth's first arrow fell short by several feet. She looked from the arrow to the target, then adjusted her grip before tryingagain. Her second attempt travelled farther, though it passed wide of the butt and landed near one of the empty chairs. Mr Pritchard calmly instructed the spectators to move back.
"I believe that was an improvement," she said.
"Undoubtedly," replied Miss Sitcombe, although she did not sound entirely convinced.
The ladies called out encouragement, though Darcy could see that Miss Elizabeth was growing vexed with herself. She drew the string for a third time, but Mr James Blackwood stepped forward before she released it.
"Your grip is too tight, Miss Elizabeth. May I?"
She lowered the bow. "Please."
Blackwood came to stand beside her and showed her where to place her fingers. When she attempted the position, he adjusted her wrist and asked her to raise her elbow. There was nothing improper in his manner. His touch was brief and Miss Elizabeth appeared grateful for the assistance. Nevertheless, Darcy felt his whole body tense. He wanted Blackwood to remove his hands from her at once, and only when he noticed Richard watching him did he make a deliberate effort to relax his features.
Blackwood was merely helping her. Darcy had also been the one to suggest that what had passed between them should beforgotten. He had no right to object if another gentleman stood close to her.
"You are holding yourself too stiffly," Blackwood said. "Let the bow do some of the work."
Miss Elizabeth raised it again. This time she drew the string more smoothly and released without hesitation. The arrow struck the outer edge of the target.
The ladies cheered and some of the gentlemen joined them. Miss Elizabeth turned towards Blackwood with such open pleasure that Darcy felt a fresh rise of irritation.
"There," Blackwood said. "You see? It was only the grip."
"Then I am indebted to you, sir."
