Lady in Red (25 page)

Again she squeezed his hand. “To the left. I shall remember.”

“Good. And don’t be nervous.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “If you don’t win, we won’t be any worse off than we are now.”

She sighed. “I know. Cassandra said much the same thing. And you both are right, though that won’t make losing any easier.”

He nodded in understanding. “I don’t like losing either.” He cast a dark glance toward the spot most recently occupied by Portia. “Especially not to someone who always thinks they are right.”

That was it, Honoria decided, clinging to George’s words. She was determined to win this wager because she couldn’t bear the thought of appearing less than capable in front of the marquis because she found him— What did she find him? Attractive? Certainly. She’d have to be dead not to notice his physical perfections. But the real culprit was his damnable pride. If she lost, she just knew the braggart would gloat. He was That Type.

The door opened and Mrs. Kemble said in a breathless voice she seemed to reserve for the marquis, “Oh miss! It’s the Marquis of Treymount
again
!” Then, much in the manner of a magician producing a flower from a sleeve, she stepped back and gestured to the door.

Treymount stepped outside. He was dressed in his usual somber black, a rather large, ornate box in one hand. The morning sun reflected off the shimmery marble slabs that outlined the terrace and traced a flicker of blue through his dark hair. Honoria was immediately pinned by the marquis’s blue gaze. Ye gods, but the man’s eyes were piercing. They made her feel hot and uncomfortable and inspired her with the rawest of desires to turn and run.

It was a most uncomfortable feeling. Steeling herself, she gave George’s hand another squeeze and plastered a fake, but welcoming, smile across her face. “My lord.”

He bowed, setting down the box and regarding her with eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement. “How are you this fine morning?”

“Ready for our wager to be resolved. And you?”

His lips twitched up into a smile. “I am much the same as you. Shall we?”

Honoria wet lips that were suddenly very dry. “Of course. I was just—” She gestured lamely, her gaze settling on George.

Her brother didn’t see her; he was far too busy glaring at the marquis.

Treymount’s gaze followed Honoria’s and he raised his brows at George’s stubborn expression. “Well hello,” the marquis said. “I see you’ve a man about the house after all.”

George’s face flushed red. “My brother Ned isn’t here, or he’d be wagering you instead.”

Treymount turned an amused gaze back to Honoria. “A whole family of gamblers, hm?”

She almost smiled at that. “Hardly.” Placing her hand on George’s shoulder, she led him to a small bench and pressed him into the seat. The wind rose for an instant and sent her skirts swirling madly about her ankles. “George, watch and tell me how I’m doing.”

George nodded. “Just remember how we practiced.”

“Of course.” With a reassuring smile, she returned to the marquis.

“Practiced?” he said softly, his blue eyes laughing down at her.

“Merely an exhibition for my brother and sisters.” Honoria’s cheeks heated a little at the lie. “I didn’t need to practice.” She eyed him for a moment. “Did
you
practice?”

“For hours.” He opened the box and drew out his own bow.

Honoria blinked. It was a gorgeous bow, made of the finest ash, the size of it almost twice hers.

In fact… she looked down at her own bow and wondered for a mad moment if she could perhaps change the wager. Surely there was something else she could have—

“Are you prepared to begin, Miss Baker-Sneed?”

The marquis’s soft voice jerked her back into reality, not just by the richness of it, but by its proximity. Somehow, he’d moved until he was only a foot away, close enough that his knees brushed her skirts.

Honoria’s heart raced and she found herself looking up into his face, her mind completely locked upon him, Ye gods, but the man was beyond gorgeous.

“Honoria?”

Cassandra’s soft call made Honoria aware that she was staring at her opponent in a most distracted way.

“Oh. Uhm.” Honoria forced her eyes away from the marquis, and the languorous heat simmered down to a gentle tickle. “Yes?”

Cassandra placed her hand on Honoria’s arm.. “I wanted to wish you luck.” ^

“Me, too,” Juliet said from where she’d just come out onto the terrace.

Honoria glanced around and frowned. “Where are Portia and Olivia?”

Cassandra’s gaze followed hers. “I don’t know. They were just here—”

“They went inside,” Juliet said hastily, glancing at the doors. “They said they couldn’t stand the excitement.”

That was odd, Honoria thought. Portia especially had been ecstatic about the contest, while Olivia—

“Shall we begin?” the marquis asked.

Honoria gathered her thoughts. “Of course.”

He bowed and stepped back. “After you, then. The better of two shots.”

Heart thudding uncomfortably, Honoria faced the target and drew the arrow into place. Squinting, she pulled back, sited the target, then closed her eyes… and let the arrow fly.

Thunk.

George gave an excited yelp. Honoria opened her eyes and blinked. Then blinked again. The arrow had hit the bull’s mark dead center. She turned to face the marquis, only to find him looking at her. At her astonished expression, his brows lowered a bit and he glanced toward the target.

His smile faded. He regarded the arrow for a long moment, then slanted a considering glance at Honoria. After a moment his expression relaxed. “You are surprised.”

Surprised didn’t begin to describe it. She was astonished. Amazed. Incredulous. Flabbergasted. And completely befuddled. Not once in all the times she’d shot the arrow during practice had she come close to the center.

“Very good,” Cassandra said, her voice light with amusement.

“Capital shot!” George cried. “You did just as I told you, closed your eyes and shot to the left!”

Honoria could scarcely believe her luck. It had to be fate at work. A smile began to tickle her cheeks. It spread from there to her heart, so that it was with real joy that she met Marcus’s gaze. “I am a little surprised.”

“Little?”

“Well… I did practice. And I was doing quite well, too. Only not
this
well.”

Of course, it could just be beginner’s luck. Or the fact that her blood was high from the whole idea of winning this wager.

Whatever it was, she could only be thankful. “I suppose I should take my second shot”

“By all means.” There was a faintly sarcastic tone to his voice, but she ignored it.

Honoria put her second arrow into the bow. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her hands were shaking just the slightest bit and she drew in a breath to steady them.
Remember to

close your eyes, and think a little to the left of center,
she reminded her self. Deep breath. Aim the arrow. Close her eyes. And…
Thunk.

Honoria opened her eyes and then gave an excited hop. She’d done it! This one hit slightly to the left of the center, but close enough to the original arrow to make it quiver in place.

“Did you—” The marquis rubbed his temple.

“Did I what?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. It just looked as if— It’s the wind. It appeared as if the target bobbled just a bit.”

“The wind is very persuasive today.”

“Yes.”

Honoria smiled. It was all she could do not to give another excited hop. Ye gods, what excellent shots! It was a great deal too bad Portia and Olivia were not here, for Honoria was certain her sisters would be dancing up and down-.

Feeling better by the minute, she smiled, sweetly up at the marquis. “I believe it is your turn.”

He undid the buttons on his coat, pausing when he caught her eyes upon him. He raised his brow. “If you don’t mind?”

Heat touched her cheeks, but she forced herself to shrug as if she did not care. “As you wish.”

Humor glinted in his eyes as if he knew her thoughts, and then he undid his coat and shrugged out of it. With a bow, he then laid it across the railing that lined the edges of the terrace. The wind immediately began rifling through his coat where it lay on the rail, making it dance a bit, as if it had a life of its own.

Honoria ignored the coat. She could not help but admire the marquis’s athletic form as he lifted his bow and tested it a moment. The sunlight glinted off his hair and touched the fine lines of his face. It really was unfair for a man to have such thick lashes. She lifted a finger to her own lashes, which were of average length. Normally, she felt quite comfortable with them, but now, seeing Marcus’s… She sighed.

But even more disturbing was the line of his well-muscled arm beneath the fine linen of his shirt. She’d not have believed him to be so well-defined. Most members of the peerage seemed to be rather soft and shapeless, or so she’d thought. Not all of them, of course. Just most. But Treymount was obviously one who was not.

Unaware of her regard, he pulled back the arrow and released it.
Thunk.
Honoria suddenly realized she’d been watching him and not the target. She spun on her heel and looked… His arrow was a good two inches from the center of the target.

“Well!” She said brightly, aware of a surge of exhilaration.

“Blast it, but—” He shook his head as if to clear his vision. “I thought—I thought that the—” He bit off the last word, his brows lowered, his mouth thinned. “Blasted wind.”

“It is quite wretched, is it not?” Honoria felt she could be gracious if nothing else. She smiled broadly and waved a hand. “Are you ready for your next shot?”

He glowered. “Damn right I am.” He lifted the bow, fitted it to his shoulder, and the let the arrow fly. Once again there was a solid thunk, only this time Honoria was facing the target. It was strange, but just as the marquis let his arrow fly, it seemed as if the entire target shifted ever so slightly to one side.

Heavens, the wind
was
horrid. As if in answer to her thoughts, a tiny whirlwind of leaves and debris swirled up onto the terrace and fell apart against the stone wall.

Honoria realized then that the marquis’s arrow was right where his first arrow was—buried too far to the right.

She’d won.

She gave an excited screech and hopped up and down. She’d won! The marquis would have to help Cassandra now! All of their worries were over! She could scarcely believe her good luck.

She clapped her hands and turned to face her competitor, then stopped when she caught his dark glance. “Oh. Pardon me. I was just—I didn’t mean to be so—”

“You are enjoying the fruits of your win,” he said, a reluctant smile touching his mouth.

“Only a little.” She made a tiny space between her thumb and finger. “A very tiny little.”

A dry chuckle escaped him. “I don’t suppose I blame you. I would be doing the same thing, only… not quite so visibly.”

He really did have a lovely smile. So lovely, in fact, that she rather wished he wouldn’t use it. Not that she witnessed it often—she didn’t. But the damn thing was nigh irresistible, and Honoria worried that she might fall under its charm at a crucial moment of some sort.

The thought was both fearful and intriguing, all at the same time.

Marcus’s gaze flickered past her to the target, the smile melting into a perplexed look. There was still a touch of chagrin on his face and for an instant Honoria felt badly for him. But then she remembered that all he stood to lose was a little of his oh-so-precious time and a thousand pounds, and that he would regain possession of his mother’s ring as well.

Thus, when he finally managed to drag his gaze from the target and back to her, she was able to smile without feeling the slightest remorse. “I had forgotten how much fun archery could be. Would you like to shoot another round?”

“Oh no!” Juliet rushed forward from where she’d been standing to one side. She laughed awkwardly, her violet eyes bright, almost too bright. “I am quite certain you’ve both shot enough for one day! Why don’t—I mean, perhaps we should all retire for some tea or some port or—”

Cassandra placed her hand on Juliet’s arm. “It’s too early for port. Perhaps the marquis would like some breakfast?”

Honoria looked at him. “Could we tempt you?”

“I am tempted, but I cannot.” He picked up his box and re-placed his bow, then started to walk toward the target to retrieve his arrows.

But Juliet was quicker. She ran before him, her skirts lifted as she dashed ahead. “I’ll get them! You stay here with Cassandra and Honoria!” And with that she was gone, almost, running to the target.

Honoria frowned. “I believe Juliet has had too much chocolate this morning.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Cassandra murmured, frowning as she watched their sister dash to the target and begin yanking arrows from it as if her life depended on it. What was worse, she was talking to herself, almost arguing about something.

The marquis said little, but finished replacing his bow, and then pulled on his coat. Juliet ran up then and handed him his arrows. He thanked her politely and then replaced them in their slots.