Page 31 of The Duke of Ice
“Yes, you can outfish me, but I daresay I will beat you at archery.”
Nick’s gaze strayed to Violet once more. This time, she was looking straight at him. She smiled, and he turned his head from her quickly. Viciously. Agitation streamed through him as he regarded Simon. “You won’t,” Nick said softly in response to his challenge. “Prepare to fall.”
* * *
The archery contestbegan with the women, and the distances to the targets were slightly shorter than the men’s. Violet was shooting against Miss Kingman, Lady Lavinia, Hannah, and Lady Adair, the sole woman over the age of thirty who was participating.
They drew straws for places, and Violet, drawing the shortest, was last. In the first round, they all took aim at the nearest targets. Everyone but Hannah hit the target and progressed to the next round. She laughed and leaned close to Violet. “You’re going to win anyway.”
Violet wasn’t sure—Miss Kingman demonstrated some skill, despite being a beginner. And Lady Adair had come rather close to the center of the target. It remained to be seen if this was luck or if she was an accomplished archer.
Lady Adair shot first in the second round as they moved to the next, farther target. Her arrow landed farther out on the target this time. Next up was Lady Lavinia, whose arrow stuck feebly into the bottom of the target for a brief moment before falling to the ground. There was an audible murmur reflecting the spectators’ disappointment. Lady Lavinia grinned and gave a shrug as she handed her bow to the footman.
Miss Kingman took her place at the line, which was marked with a wide red ribbon held in place with a pair of rocks on either end, and lifted her bow. Breathing deeply, she focused with intense concentration, the space between her brows puckering. Violet wanted to tell her to hold the string farther back along her fingers. The young woman let her arrow fly, and it landed well within the target, in a better position than Lady Adair’s. Her effort was roundly cheered.
A footman handed Violet a bow and arrow. She passed Miss Kingman with a smile. “Well done.”
“Good luck,” Miss Kingman said.
Taking up her position, Violet scrutinized the target for a moment. She tried not to overthink, but to just feel. This was the way Uncle Bertrand had taught her. She lifted the bow and pulled back the string, exhaling as she let the arrow go. It landed right next to Miss Kingman’s.
Violet felt a rush of satisfaction at the applause and cheers that greeted her when she turned from the target. She searched for Nick and saw him standing on the periphery. He clapped, but only briefly. His features were as stoic as they’d been before the contest had started. He seemed to be the Nick of two days ago instead of the man she’d spent time with last night. That short walk had filled her with happiness—and hope.
“Final target,” Irving announced loudly. “Whoever comes closest to the center will win!”
Lady Adair curtsied to the guests before taking her bow and moving to the shooting line. She raised her weapon and considered the target for a long minute. Then she pulled the bow and released the arrow. It failed to reach the fifty-yards-distant target.
She turned with a weak smile and gave another curtsey before returning the bow to the footman.
Miss Kingman went next. As she walked past, Violet leaned toward her and whispered, “Try holding the string farther back—behind your knuckles instead of closer to your fingertips. It’s much more comfortable and will help your aim.”
With a look of surprise, Miss Kingman nodded. “Thank you.” She curtsied to the guests, then took her bow and went to the line, where she took even longer than Lady Adair to prepare. She lifted her bow once only to lower it and change her stance. The second time, she hesitated, but, after narrowing her eyes, released her shot, taking Violet’s advice. It landed perilously close to the center of the target.
Miss Kingman turned her head toward Violet, her eyes wide with shock and her lips curving into a smile. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
Violet flexed her hands as apprehension spiraled through her. Perhaps she ought not to have helped Miss Kingman. As she and Miss Kingman passed each other, Violet said, “Verywell done.”
The young woman blinked, her dark lashes fluttering. “I’m quite shocked. It won’t be fair if I win. You helped me.”
“I gave you advice. The shot was entirely yours.” Violet gave her a look of encouragement as Miss Kingman took a position several feet to Violet’s right.
Violet offered a curtsey to the spectators before taking the bow and arrow and turning to the line. She stared at the target, thinking she’d shot farther than this. But it had been a while.
Lifting the bow, she took a deep breath and imagined the arrow striking the dead center of the target. A breeze ruffled the ties beneath her hat, and she belatedly wished she’d taken the thing off. With a firm but relaxed grip, she pulled back the string and let her arrow fly.
It landed in the absolute center. She’d won.
Everyone cheered as Violet turned. She offered a deeper curtsey, her mouth splitting into a wide, uncontrollable grin. She couldn’t help but look at Nick; however, the crowd had shifted, and she couldn’t see him very well.
“Lady Pendleton has won a boon that she may claim during the remainder of the party,” Irving said loudly. “Well done, Lady Pendleton!”
Everyone applauded again, and Violet made another curtsey. Hannah rushed over and gave her a quick hug. “I’m so proud of you! I must oversee the gentlemen’s turn.” And off she went again.
The targets were adjusted, and the competing men gathered near the line. It would be a wide field that included Simon and Nick, as well as every other bachelor in attendance plus Sir Barnard, Lord Adair, Lord Colton, and, of course, Irving Linford. Apparently, Lord Balcombe had trouble with his shoulder and wasn’t able to participate.
After drawing straws, Mr. Seaver went first. Everyone made it through the first round, having hit the target. Simon’s arrow was the closest to the center, and Violet was pleased to see him celebrated for it. She hoped he would win, thinking it would only help their cause to rehabilitate his reputation.
But misfortune struck in the second round when his arrow landed in the outer circle of the target. The three men whose arrows were farthest out were eliminated.
