Page 72 of The Duelist for the Ton
Portia suppressed a laugh. “My brother is hardly capable of dressing himself unaided.”
“That’s what a valet is for, Portia,” Adam said. “I wouldn’t sully my hands with—”
“Foxton, that’s enough,” Whitcombe said, taking Eleanor’s hand. “Would you take advantage of my wife’s hospitality by teasing the other guests?”
“Certainly not, old boy.”
Stephen nodded, then his gaze settled on Portia, and her heart lifted at the warmth in his eyes.
Adam turned to Eleanor. “Forgive me, Duchess. I meant no offense.”
“None taken,” she said, a smile dancing in her dark-emerald eyes. “It’s only possible to take offense if you value the opinion of the alleged offender. You are therefore at liberty to speak freely.”
Adam nodded and smiled. Stephen let out a snort, and when Portia met his gaze again, he’d covered his mouth with his hand, and mirth flickered in his eyes.
“When the hour is up,” Eleanor continued, “James here will fire a single shot in the air, after which the winner will be declared. Are you all ready? Then begin. And remember, don’t stray from the path!”
*
Eleanor’s gamekeeper wasto be commended for his creativity. Out of the first eight targets Portia located, five were as expected—at eye level and approximately fifty yards from the path—but the other three were partially concealed among the rhododendrons.
As for the ninth…
Someone had set it halfway up a tree.
She retrieved an arrow from her quiver and nocked it, then heard a voice from behind.
“That’ll require an entirely different technique, given the angle.”
She turned to face the owner of the voice. “Colonel Reid, are you following me?”
“Can you not call me Stephen?” he said with a lopsided grin.
“Can you not answer a question with another question?”
He let out a laugh, then gestured to the target. “You’ll have to aim higher than you’d expect.”
“How much higher?”
“Come, come, Lady Portia, you wouldn’t expect any favors from your rival, would you?” He glanced over his shoulder. “You’d best get on with it. I saw Lady Trelawney coming this way.”
She gestured to the target. “Then be my guest.”
“A gentleman always follows the rule ofladies first.”
“You know enough of me by now to appreciate that I’m not fond of the rules that gentlemen adopt. Why should you treat me differently because of my sex?”
“Gallantry, of course.”
“Which is the man’s excuse for restricting a woman’s freedom.”
Understanding flickered in his eyes, and he nodded, then spoke more softly. “Is your brother overly strict with you?” He gestured in the direction of the main lawn. “Far be it for me to speak out of turn, but I noticed today—”
“You’re very kind, colonel.”
“Stephen, please,” he said, moving closer, until she could almost feel the warmth of his body on her skin.
“Stephen,” she said, suppressing the little pulse of longing as her tongue curled around his name. “My brother is a little…” She made a random gesture, trying to find the words.
