“What is going on out here?” Bernard demanded.
“Archery,” Amelia answered absently, an idea forming. There were only a few times she’d been able to drag Lord Andrew’s attention away from work. When she presented other more pressing work matters before him (and that didn’t count, did it?) and when he’d thought he’d lost her. She’d done nothing but come home, and he’d come racing after her. And on the cliff, he’d touched her of his own volition to pull her back from the edge. If there was one sure way to grab his attention, it seemed to be a threat. To her place by his side. Or to her safety. “I’ve never shot an arrow before. It should be fun.” She plucked one from the waiting arms of a nearby footman, took the bow, too. And then she placed the arrow into the bow backward so that its tip notched toward her.
Miss Angleton and Bernard gasped and jumped for her. One took the bow and the other arrow.
“You really have never done this before,” Miss Angleton breathed.
“Like she’s never evenseenit done.” Bernard snorted. “I do not think you should participate, Mrs. Dart. Sit it out and watch a few rounds.”
“Nonsense.” Amelia snapped the bow and arrow away from the companion and footman. “I’ll learn quickly.” She notched it correctly this time and turned in a circle, aiming at various objects. Everyone around her ducked and hid screams behind high-pitched squeals, and she had to hold onto her own laughter as tightly as she held to the arrow, ensuring its safety in her hands.
Bernard snatched the implements from her once more. “I think Lord Andrew will have something to say about this.” And he marched off toward the castle.
“I certainly hope he does,” Amelia mumbled, offering her companion an apologetic smile. “As you see, we must start at the very beginning.”
Miss Angleton showed her how to hold the bow and notch the arrow, and as two footmen appeared, dragging a table toward the field, the window above them flew open.
“Put the table fifty paces from me,” Miss Angleton commanded the footmen.
Amelia mastered her grin before turning toward the window.
His frame took up the entire window, and his hair had become dislodged from its usual neat sheen, pushed back and away from his forehead. It fell, now, into his eyes. His very angry eyes. She could see that from here.
“What are you doing?” he roared.
She waved, wiggling her fingers. “Learning archery.” She waved an arrow at him. “Care to join us?”
“No. I’m busy. Put that arrow down.”
“How disappointing. I’ll see you at dinner, then.” She waved and turned back to Miss Angleton but lifted her voice loud enough for him to hear. “You say the sharp end must always point away from me, yes?”
A growl from above. “Put that arrow downnow, Amelia, or I’ll come down there and?—”
“Do as you please, Lord Andrew.” She waved him away without looking up at him.
“What are you doing?” Miss Angleton hissed. “You’ve infuriated him, and I knowyou knowwhich way the sharp end points.”
“Naturally I do. I did as well before I sent Bernard off to gather Lord Andrew’s attention.”
Miss Angleton gasped. “You crafty minx!” Amelia chuckled. “But why?”
“I’ve my reasons.”
“And I should know them if you’re using me for them.”
Amelia was about to answer, but the crunch of gravel stole her attention. If gravel crunching beneath boots could soundangry, this did. No wonder. The man striding her way looked angry, all furrowed brow and stiff spine. Even Drew’s hands were fisted at his sides.
“Good afternoon,” she said as he stopped before her.
In reply, he snapped the bow and arrow from her hands and tossed them on the ground behind him.
She merely raised a brow and placed her hands on her hips. “Was that necessary, my lord?”
“Yes,” he ground out. “Bernard says you’re likely to kill yourself.”
“I’m not. I’m learning. Or I was. Now I’ll never know how to safely work a bow and arrow, and it could be necessary one day. Isn’t that right, Miss Angleton?” She peeked around Drew’s body to her companion, who bobbed her head readily.
“Oh yes. Knowing how to shoot an arrow is an absolute necessity.”
