How to Capture a Countess (Duchess Diaries 1) (21 page)

An odd warmth spread through his chest. “Oh?”

“The sun came out.” She lifted her brows. “You, sir, owe me an archery contest.”

She looked all of seventeen, standing in the hallway,
her hair slightly mussed, her lips swollen from his kisses as she beamed at him.

The warmth in his chest grew. “Then an archery contest there shall be.”

“I’ll tell MacDougal to set it up.” She turned away.

“Wait. Ask him to have it ready in an hour and a half.”

She paused and looked back, her brows lowered. “Not now?”

“I have something I need to do first.”
Like ride across the chilled moors for at least an hour.
He had to do something to burn the ache from his blood before he was seen with her in public.

Confusion filled her gaze, but she shrugged. “Fine. In an hour and a half.”

He bowed, slanting her a look through his lashes that made her cheeks pinken. “Until then, Miss Balfour.”

She curtsied back. “Until then.”

And with a flutter of skirts, she left.

•  •  •

MacDougal placed his heel against the front of the target and then paced out twenty steps. When he stopped, a footman hurried forward to place a string across the range, which another footman instantly pegged into place.

He stepped back to regard their work. “Will this work fer ye, Miss Balfour?”

The target sat nearly where it had several days ago, and the lawn was a fresh jewel-green, the scent of wet grass permeating the air. The clouds had broken and were being pushed out of the sky by a gusty breeze. She smiled at the butler. “It’s perfect.”

“’Tis no’ as pretty as the blue paint her grace used fer the tourny the other day, but ’tis the best we can do, considerin’ how wet the grass is.” He watched as she tested the bows. “Are ye certain ye dinna need more than two? I can have more brought fro’ the barn, should ye wish it.”

“No, two is all we’ll need.” Rose saw Sin striding across the lawn toward her, and her heart took an unexpected leap.

He’d apparently been riding, for he still wore his riding clothes, his overcoat open and flowing behind him. His dark blond hair was windswept and his rakish smile made her grin in return as she remembered their encounter in the closet.

When he reached the course, he looked it over and nodded. “Well done, Miss Balfour. Now we may settle our wager.”

The warmth of his voice was like a physical touch and she shivered, then tugged her pelisse closer about her.

“MacDougal, where are the arrows?”

“They’re bein’ brought out, my lord.” He gestured toward a footman approaching from across the wide lawn, a collapsed bow stand under each arm. “Tha’
will be the last o’ it, and ye and Miss Balfour can ha’ yer tourney.”

“It’s about time,” Sin told Rose with a wolfish smile.

“Lord Cameron, you were right,” came Miss Isobel’s voice. “The archery course is being reset. We can play another game!”

His jaw set, Sin glanced back over his shoulder to find Lord Cameron and both Misses Stewart approaching. He gave a disgusted sigh. “Next, we’ll have—”

“Miss Balfour!” Mr. Munro called as he hurried across the lawn from the other direction. “There you are. Are we shooting arrows again?”

“I could shoot him,” Sin offered in a low voice.

Rose sighed. “There are too many of them. Here comes Lady Charlotte, too.”

Sure enough, the older lady was scurrying toward them, holding her skirts above the wet grass. Sin shook his head. “Bloody hell. How is it that in a castle this size, with so few people, it is
impossible
to get a few moments alone without the use of a good linen closet?”

“I’ve wondered the same thing,” Rose said.

Then Miss Isobel, Miss Muriella, and Lord Cameron were upon them, joined in short order by Munro, and the group chattered loudly about what a capital idea it was to have another archery contest. MacDougal sent a footman to fetch more bows and
arrows, while Munro paced off the target as if he were an expert on setting up a range.

Sin scowled. These past two days, it had felt like fate was conspiring to keep him from Rose. All he could do was sit back and watch her, which had driven him to distraction until he’d taken matters into his own hands and had commandeered the linen closet. That was one of the benefits of staying in one’s great-aunt’s house—one knew all of the hiding places.

He watched as Rose pretended to listen to Munro’s self-aggrandizing about his archery skills, her face a mask of politeness. This was the Rose others knew. The Rose
he
knew moaned when her breasts were touched and loved to have kisses placed upon her ears. Those were secrets that only he knew.

So the rainy days hadn’t been a total waste. Not only had he managed to abscond with her to the linen closet for a few delicious moments designed to prime her for more, but he had also, by listening to her conversations with others, discovered some interesting tidbits about her. She didn’t care for turtle soup; though she loved Shakespeare, she preferred to read it herself rather than have a pedantic bore read it to her; and she was very close to her sisters. He’d discovered the last fact when Aunt Margaret had inquired after them at dinner last night. Sin didn’t think he’d ever seen a more pleased smile upon Rose’s face.

There definitely wasn’t a smile there now.
Though she was being polite, he could feel her irritation. Just knowing she felt the same way he did helped a little.

A footman spoke with MacDougal, who turned to the group. “I fear we’re short some arrows. I should have counted them, but I forgot.”

“I know where they are,” Rose said. “Several went into that copse by the lake.”

“Very good, miss. I’ll send a footman to find them.”

“It would be faster if I did it myself. I saw exactly where they went in.”

The butler looked uncertain. “But miss, it will be wet—”

“When I’m at home, I tromp about in the rain all the time.” She turned to the others. “Why don’t you begin? I can just go last.”

Munro stepped forward. “I’ll help you, Miss Balfour.”

“No, you won’t,” Lady Charlotte said. “I’ll go with Miss Balfour. I’ll not have her wandering about the woods alone with a man.”

Rose shook her head. “Lady Charlotte, I don’t need anyone to—”

“Come, dear, we’re wasting time discussing it.” Lady Charlotte headed down the hill, saying over her shoulder, “Miss Isobel is readying for her turn, so we must hurry.”

Sin watched the two head toward the copse. Once there, Rose exchanged some words with Lady Charlotte
and then disappeared into the woods, leaving the older lady standing guard at the edge of the copse.

Sin smiled. Under the pretext of finding a footman to fetch port and hot tea, he walked toward the house until he was certain no one was watching. Then he slipped into the shrubbery and stealthily made his way down to the copse.

•  •  •

Rose peered into the bushes.

“Do you see them?” Lady Charlotte called from the edge of the thicket.

“No,” Rose called back, pushing through a large shrub and hoping there were no spiders. Sunshine dappled the tops of the thick bushes as the scent of damp leaves tickled her nose.

“Thank you for looking, dear. Are you certain you don’t wish me to help? We could cover twice as much ground.”

“No, thank you,” Rose said quickly, pushing farther into the thicket. She would never allow the older, fragile lady to tromp over such rough ground.

“Oh, good!” Lady Charlotte said, her voice fainter now. “Munro is showing Miss Muriella how to aim her bow and arrow properly. She needs a good lesson or two. And I think— Oh, it appears as if Miss Isobel and Lord Cameron are beginning the contest right now.”

“Good. I won’t be long.”

“I think they— Oh, they are gesturing and—I can’t
see well, but I believe they mean that we have plenty of time to fetch the arrows.”

“Lovely,”
Rose muttered under her breath. “Those arrows must be here somewhere. Please keep an eye on the contest so we’ll know when it’s our turn. I’m going in a bit deeper.”

A particularly thick shrub looked like the perfect place for nature to hide an arrow, so Rose peered through the limbs, but saw nothing.

Lady Charlotte called, “Lord Cameron is getting ready for his shot now.”

“Very good.” Perhaps the arrows had been caught by the tree canopy? Rose looked up, turning in a slow circle.

As she turned, she suddenly saw Sin standing in the small clearing. She grinned, unable to stop herself.

He returned her grin, looking wicked and pleased, which was exactly how she felt. “Sin, what are you doing here?”

Lady Charlotte answered, “What’s that, dear?”

Sin crossed the small clearing and held up his hand. In it were three arrows. “That’s three of them,” he said in a low voice. “I found them in the shrubbery over there.” He nodded from the direction he’d come. “How many are missing?” he whispered.

“I don’t know.”

He bent and planted the arrows in the middle of the clearing and then came to her side. He slipped an arm about her waist and drew her to him.

“We’re not going to find any arrows like this,” she protested halfheartedly.

He lifted her from her feet. “How do you know?” he whispered back.

She laughed softly as she slipped her arms about his neck. “Because I can’t look for arrows when your head is directly in front of mine.”

“You are a demanding woman.”

“And you are an incorrigible man. Please put me down.”

His gaze seemed fixed upon her lips. “And if I don’t?”

“I could call for help, you know,” she whispered.

“You could,” he whispered back, a wolfish smile on his face. “But then I wouldn’t help you find this.” He turned her toward the tree beside them. Embedded in the trunk was a silver arrow.

“Rose?” Lady Charlotte called, concern in her voice.

“I believe I’m close to more arrows! I see some signs that they came this way.”

“Very good, dear,” Lady Charlotte called out. “Miss Muriella didn’t learn a thing from Munro’s lesson, for her arrow almost hit a footman. Fortunately he was carrying coats out to the party and was able to catch it in those. He is a very quick young man, I must say.”

Rose giggled and Sin’s arms tightened about her.

“Oh, now it’s Mr. Munro’s turn,” Lady Charlotte said. “Have you found any arrows yet?”

“One moment more!” Rose answered. “I think I see some in the shrubs.”

Sin slid his hands down her back to her hips, holding her gently against him. Instantly she melted to him. “You came all of the way out here for a mere kiss?” she whispered.

“Yes. Are you impressed?” He traced his lips along her cheek.

Shivers ran through her. “Very,” she whispered back.

He nipped at her ear, then placed slow, heated kisses down her neck. “You taste so good. I couldn’t keep away.” His voice was muffled against her neck.

Her knees weak, she clung to him. “You . . . you are very good at—”

“Oh!” Lady Charlotte said, “Miss Isobel is about to take another shot. She hit the outer ring, too. I must say, she’s very good. Not as good as you, of course, but she has potential.”

Rose had to clear her throat to speak. “I’ll be right out.”

“Very good, dear. It will be our turns soon.”

Rose’s heart was pounding so loudly that she could barely hear Lady Charlotte. Sin kissed her deeply as his hands roamed everywhere, touching and teasing. Rose knew she had to stop this, but her body begged for just one more moment, one more kiss, one more—

“Look out!” Lady Charlotte cried.

There was a low whistling sound and Sin jerked
Rose around so hard that she felt like a rag doll. With a solid thunk, an arrow embedded itself in a tree right beside her hip, directly where she’d been standing a moment ago.

For a second, neither spoke.

“Miss Balfour!” Lady Charlotte called. “I tried to warn you, but it happened so fast. Are you injured?”

“No, I’m fine!”

“Thank goodness!”

Rose smoothed her skirt, pausing when her fingers brushed her hip where a thin, perfect cut in her skirt indicated how very close the arrow had been. Her mind cloudy with shock, she touched the place with curiosity. “That was too close for—” She blinked and looked more closely at the tear. “Sin,” she said, her voice sounding odd, “there’s blood on this. I wasn’t hit, but someone had to be—” She suddenly realized he hadn’t said a word since the arrow had hit.

She looked at him. He was standing with his eyes closed, his hand pressed to his thigh as blood soaked his buff trousers.

•  •  •

“Damn you, Dunn!”

Sin’s valet peered over his spectacles. “My lord, there is no way to clean your wound without causing pain.”

Sin scowled. “You said it would hurt—not that it would be agony.”

“I’m sorry, my lord. I promise that the next time I
treat an arrow wound upon your person, I’ll use the word ‘agony.’ ”

Sin scowled. “Just clean the damn—
Ow!
”

Dunn placed the cloth beside the pan of water and unrolled a bandage. “If you’ll stand, my lord, I’ll attempt to bandage your thigh.”

Sin stood, gritting his teeth at the pain. “I don’t know what was worse, getting shot like a damned deer or having to explain to my aunt what I was doing in the woods with Miss Balfour.”

“You’re fortunate it wasn’t a deep cut. Any more so and I’d suggest stitches.”

“Yes, I’m
so
fortunate. Now come and help me dress.”

“But my lord, it’s still two hours until—”

“I have an appointment before dinner.”

“Oh?” The valet waited, but when Sin didn’t offer any more information, he sniffed and began to set out Sin’s evening clothes.

With a bit of difficulty, Sin was soon dressed.

The valet began to straighten the room. “On the surface of things, one could say that it seems you are not doing very well in your contest with Miss Balfour.”

“If one didn’t enjoy one’s position as the valet of an earl, yes, one could say that,” Sin returned. As he turned, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and saw the healing cut and faint bruise on his jaw. Combined with the arrow wound, he felt like he’d been in a war.