Page 68 of The Duelist for the Ton
“I’d have thought a true aim would be the most important skill,” Miss Whitcombe said. “Is not the ability to see also important? We can all breathe, surely?”
“But you use your whole body to shoot, Olivia,” Lady Portia said. “Of course, we need to see to aim in the right direction, but considerhowwe aim—we use our bodies to stand and hold the weapon. Most of us strive to hold the weapon still, but we will never manage such a feat. Our bodies are never completely still. We breathe in and out, and our hearts are always beating. We must therefore steady our breathing—adopt an attitude of calm, lift the bow into position, and let the arrow fly once the position is reached. Only then do we use our sight, and contrary to what most believe, the ability to see clearly can work against us.”
“I see!” Miss Whitcombe said, smiling. “Because while we strive to see more clearly, we hesitate, hold our breath, and our bodies grow tense, at which point the game is lost. Which explains why I missed the target each time.”
“As did Mrs. McIver,” the duchess said. “Archery is more difficult than it looks. Portia, you do us a disservice by making it look easy.”
Lady Portia smiled and nodded. “You’re very kind, Eleanor. It’s not easy, but I’ve a keen interest in marksmanship. Whilst the technique may be a little different, the skills required to fire aweapon are similar to those required to shoot an arrow. Men call it a sport, but that’s because they consider the number of birds they can shoot out of the sky, or the number of gentlemen they can shoot at dawn or dusk, to be a mark of their virility. But it’s more of an art form. I have yet to encounter an opponent who…”
Her voice tailed off, and she colored.
“An opponent on the archery field, I trust, Portia,” the duchess said. “I trust you don’t make a habit of firing a pistol at others.”
Lady Portia glanced toward Stephen, a flicker of apprehension in her eyes, then she gestured toward the other ladies. “Who are my competitors to be this afternoon?”
“The colonel, of course,” the duchess said, then she gestured to Lady Trelawney and Countess Weston. “And Alice and Lavinia.”
“Not Lady Thorpe?” Stephen said, nodding toward a tall woman dressed in dark blue, cascades of rich brown hair tumbling about her shoulders. He’d half expected her to be wearing breeches, given her reputation for engaging in the pursuits of men and despising any activity attributed to ladies.
“Henrietta is a better with a sword than she is at marksmanship,” Lady Weston said.
“Whereas you’re better, Lav, at climbing up walls when nobody’s looking,” Lady Thorpe said. She slapped Lady Weston on the back. “Take care, Ellie, lest your guests find themselves a diamond necklace or two lighter come the end of the week. But then, you’ve been known to act as her accomplice, have you not?”
The duchess colored, and Lady Weston drew an arm about her shoulders. “Be mindful, Hen,” she said, “or I’ll tell your husband you were climbing trees in the orchard again. Didn’t he say he’d discipline you in the sternest manner were he to catch you acting in an unladylike manner this week?”
Lady Thorpe grinned and flicked her tongue out to moisten her lips. “Who’s to say I don’t relish the particular style of discipline that my Giles doles out?”
Lady Hardwick burst into laughter. “Ah yes, my cousin has a firm hand.”
“Delectably so,” Lady Thorpe said.
“What do you mean, discipline?” Miss Whitcombe said, her eyes widening. “Does your husbandpunishyou?”
The duchess blushed, and Lady Weston took her hand.
“Forgive me, Ellie, I’m speaking out of turn.” She turned to Miss Whitcombe. “Olivia, take no notice—I was only jesting. Henrietta and her husband are very much in love, aren’t you, Hen?”
Lady Thorpe gave a smile, mischief and satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. Then she met Stephen’s gaze and giggled. “Oh dear, I fear I may have shocked your guest, Eleanor. Do forgive us, colonel. I’m afraid our conversation is not for the ears of gentlemen.”
“Much as gentlemen’s conversation is not for the ears of ladies,” Lady Portia said.
“I thought ladies discussed the weather,” Stephen said. “Or their accomplishments.”
“Oh, we do,” Lady Thorpe said. “But our idea of…accomplishmentmay differ from most ladies in Society who confine their conversation to embroidery, music, the cut of their gowns, and their superiority over their rivals.”
“I’m afraid you find yourself among misfits here,” Lady Portia said. “Dear Eleanor is most particular about whom she invites to her house parties.”
“Meaning I’m a misfit?” Stephen said.
“Meaning you possess qualities that set you apart from the rest of Society. Today, colonel, you’re an honorary misfit.”
“Is it some sort of club for which membership is by invitation?”
“Perhaps!” Lady Weston laughed. “And, in your choice of activity today, we might also declare you to be an honorary lady.”
“What’s all this?” a deep male voice said, and Stephen looked up to see Portia’s brother approaching, followed by the rest of the gentlemen. “Is the colonel turning into the weaker sex?”
“Are you asking if he’s turning into a man, brother?” Lady Portia said, an edge to her voice.
