Page 83 of What a Highlander’s Got to Do

“Hardly at all,” Tay parroted.

“It’s no fun if there’s no one to shoot against you,” she said on a pout.

“How about Sorcha?” Declan suggested.

And Sorcha laughed. “I would probably kill the peacock, and then Mother would never forgive me. How about you, Celia?” she asked wickedly.

Celia sniffed. “I would never. It’s too . . . mannish.”

Isobel quirked a brow. Mannish, was it? She’d show her mannish.

“Who was winning your bout?” she asked of Malcolm.

He waved at one of his younger brothers. “Tay is the best shot here.”

“I’m no’ shooting against a woman,” he grumbled.

“Ach,” Isobel said. “I understand. There’s no shame in being afraid of losing.”

His eyes narrowed and his face went a little red. “I’m not afraid. I just—”

“I’ll do it,” a deep voice rumbled from her side. Her heart gave a leap.

“Oh, Viscount Stirling,” Celia warbled.

Thank God, Nick ignored her as his gaze was locked with Isobel’s.

She smiled at him. “Excellent. Shall we?” She strode up to the line and drew an arrow from the quiver on the ground. All the men stepped back. As though they were concerned she might miss and hit something behind her or something. She bit back her smile.

Nick came up beside her and bowed. “Ladies first,” he said in something of a pandering tone.

“But wait.” She batted her lashes at him. “Shouldn’t we agree on a wager?”

All the men groaned.

“That would not be fair,” Nick said gently.

“Something small then. A token?”

“A . . . token?” The glimmer in his eye spoke to her.

“To be determined . . . later, perhaps?” she whispered and his grin widened.

“Fine, but you may expect no quarter, my dear.”

“And neither may you.”

“All right then. What shall we aim for?”

She studied the target, which had three red rings painted onto it, each narrower than the other, with the center being the smallest. “An arrow in each ring?” she suggested.

“Done.” He bowed again and gave her a little wave to proceed.

She shot for the outer ring first, because it was widest and she didn’t want to give the game away so soon.

All the men gasped and clapped when she hit it dead center. “Oh, my,” she cried. “I did it.”

“Well done,” Nick said, patting her on the shoulder.