Page 73 of The Duelist for the Ton
“Overprotective?”
“He has a good heart.”
He tilted his head to one side and raised his eyebrows.
“Perhaps not one that is entirely visible to the rest of the world,” she continued, “but in his own way, he loves me. He’s not the type to tell me openly, of course, for in his eyes that would show weakness. I may not always approve of his methods, but I believe his desire to maintain the unfathomable rules of Society comes from a wish that I come to no harm.”
“Then in that, if in little else, I find myself in agreement with him.”
His eyes darkened and he leaned closer. She had only to tilt her face upward, offer her lips for a kiss…
Laughter filtered through the air, followed by animated voices, and she jerked back.
“That’s Lady Trelawney,” she said. “With Lavinia, by the sound of it. It seems they’ve teamed up and become a pair.”
“Then perhaps you and I should become a pair.”
The voices drew near, and Portia tempered the flare of desire at his words, spoken with a low growl.
“If we’re of one team, then I suggest we deal with this target as quickly as possible then find the rest,” she said, “and you must go first.”
“Very well.” He smiled, then nocked his arrow, drew back the bow, aimed upward, and let it fly. The arrow hit the inner ring, just shy of the center.
“Not too incompetent,” she said, nocking her own arrow. “How many targets have you found so far?” She tilted her body upward until the target came into view.
“Nine, including this one,” he said as she let her arrow fly. The arrow sailed upward in an arc, then landed in the center of the target.
A footman stepped out from behind a tree. “Excellent shot, colonel, and Lady Portia. That’s two points for you, colonel, and three for the lady.”
“How much time is there left?” Portia asked.
“A few minutes, if that,” Stephen said, pulling out his pocket watch. “Good man, can you tell us where the last target is?”
“How would he know which target you mean?” Portia said. “They’re dotted all over the place.”
“I’ve not been toward the lake yet, so perhaps it’s there. Am I right, good man?”
The footman opened his mouth to reply.
“Say nothing that will give him an advantage, I beg you,” Portia said. “The colonel is a paragon of honesty, and I would hate for you to be the object of his derision.”
Stephen frowned, then let out a sigh. “Very well. I’m going toward the lake.”
“Keep to the path, mind,” the footman said. Stephen nodded, then offered his arm unsmilingly, and Portia took it.
After they had followed the path far enough for the footman, with luck, to be out of earshot, Portia spoke.
“Forgive me…Stephen, I did not mean to criticize you, and certainly not in front of Eleanor’s footman. I meant no offense.”
“I cannot say I took no offense.”
Her heart sank.
Heavens—did she care so much for his opinion of her? “Then I must apol—”
“The reason I cannot admit to not having taken offense is because such a statement would imply, as our hostess says, that I care nothing for your opinion.”
He turned toward her, a gleam of mischief in his eyes, and her heart lifted a little.
