Authors: Something Like a Lady
Kay Springsteen (31 page)
The dowager seemed to stand taller and her dark eyes glittered as she offered a smile.
“
Indeed you did, Frenchie. Indeed you did. Now, this time pull back harder to give the arrow a bit more
oomph
so that it penetrates the target and
doesn
’
t just hit it.
”
With newfound enthusiasm, Annabella shot another arrow. Then another. More of the arrows landed in front of the target or several feet beyond it than actually sank into the straw. But several of them
at least struck
the target and then land
ed
on the ground. The last arrow did stick in the very top of the target for a second. But then it
, too,
fell.
She stomped her foot.
“
Devil
’
s fire!
”
The dowager chuckled.
“
Don
’
t worry overmuch about them piercing the straw yet. Get your form down, and then as you practice, your strength will improve. Before you know it, you
’
ll be hitting the center at a hundred paces.
”
Annabella doubted that. But now her mind could think of nothing more than hitting the target center the way the dowager had.
“
Ernest,
please
retrieve the arrows.
”
“
Yes, your grace.
”
The boy scampered toward the opposite side of the field, scooping up arrows
as he ran
. Within a couple of minutes he returned and handed them to Annabella.
“
Thank you.
”
He smiled as he took his place behind them again.
“
That will be all, Ernest. You may return to the house and help Cook.
”
“
Yes, your grace.
”
He cast Annabella a toothy grin and then ran down the path toward the house.
Once they were alone, the dowager said,
“
So, my dear, would you care to explain why you were trying to bring dire harm to my grandson.
”
She lifted her bow and took aim.
“
That spawn of Satan had the door between our bedchambers removed when I refused to allow him in my bed and locked him out of
the
room.
”
The words were out before Annabella could contain them. Horrified, she caught her breath
and
pressed her fingers to her mouth.
The dowager jerked just as she released the arrow. It shot straight up in the air a few feet then slapped the earth, landing on its side. She let out a curse, nearly causing Annabella to swoon with shock at hearing a refined lady speak in such a manner.
The dowager turned and faced her, eyes narrowed.
“
Have you no decency? To divulge such obscene details is bad enough, but to do it when I
’
m in the middle of shooting!
”
Annabella
’
s cheeks were so hot her teeth burned and her throat went dry. Tears tickled at the back
s
of her eyes.
“
Forgive me, your grace. I meant no disrespect, I assure you.
”
The dowager grunted.
“
Just when I thought you were a woman after my own heart, you commence with the simpering.
”
She waved her hand at the bow in Annabella
’
s hand.
“
Now, stand up straight, retrieve another arrow, and tell me the whole of it while you practice.
”
Annabella needed no further encouragement. She
’
d been alone in the cottage for days with no one to talk to, then she
’
d had to suffer Seabrook
’
s presence in silence as well. It was a relief to finally have someone to talk to, confide in. And confide she did. Perhaps it was the fact that she
’
d been holding her emotions inside for so long that the dam finally broke, but whatever the reason, she told the dowager everything. To the
dowager
’
s
credit, she listened without scolding or judging and only interrupted to give Annabella pointers on correct archery form and bow position.
When Annabella ended the story, the dowager patted her hand and said,
“
You have a lot to learn, my dear. And you
’
ve come to the right place.
”
She settled her bow over her shoulder.
“
I think another hour of practice will do you good. But for now, I
’
ll have Ernest return to retrieve the arrows. Please… come and enjoy some hot chocolate and pastries with me in the parlor.
”
The older woman headed down the path then paused and turned.
“
And as for the door
…
Darling girl, my grandson has given you the best weapon of all to use against him. And use it you shall.
”
Annabella furrowed her brow.
“
I-I don
’
t understand.
”
“
You will. You will.
H
e
’
ll
soon
curse himself to the devil and back for taking that blasted door down. By my word, this is one battle he won
’
t win.
”
For the first time since sending Juliet to London in her place, Annabella smiled. A genuine smile. One she felt all the way to her toes. A frisson of excitement raced through her, and she began to breathe easier than she had in a long time — almost as if her lungs had opened up and were drinking in the air around her. She hadn
’
t a clue what the
dowager
had planned for her. Or how the dowager thought she could use a missing door as a weapon, but she intended to find out.
***
*
The wind whistled through the archeria on the battlement. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the murmur of his brother
’
s voice
.
The north tower had been a favorite hideout when Jon and Nicholas had been in a mood to avoid Daphne and Edith.
With so many years between the two sets of children, the girls had worshipped their older brothers and often followed them about. Planned outings on horseback too often had become an indulgent afternoon of hitching the ponies to the cart and watching as a groom led
them
around the stable yard. Jon smiled. The girls hadn
’
t believed them about the ghost in the tower until he and Nicholas had proven it early one morning when they
’
d seen Gran heading up
there
to shoot arrows through the arrow slots.
“
That
’
s the ghost of the very first Duchess of Blackmoor, herself — from the far north and held captive here by her husband,
”
said Nicholas to the pair of them.
“
It is said that she waits up there for someone to join her and then she
’
ll steal that person
’
s body and use it to travel to her homeland.
”
Daphne had taken a bit more convincing, but little Edith had run crying to her nursemaid and never set foot near the north tower again, even after they
’
d both come to understand that their grandmother occasionally let a few arrows fly on the breeze from on high.
If he strained, Jon could just make out the archery range through the archeria. Every so often sounds
t
hat might have been voices drifted toward him, carried by the stiff wind, but it was never enough to even discern the tone, let alone the words themselves. He scowled. What on earth was Gran doing with his wife out there? He stared at the pair of them standing in the center of the range. The targets looked like they
’
d been moved in closer. When Gran stood next to Annabella and guided her through shooting an arrow, he took a deep breath and sighed. Gran only shared her sport with those she cared about. Mayhap Annabella would find a reason to stay.
Even if that reason
isn’t me
.
Jon gripped the rough stone so hard his fingers turned white. Quite suddenly, he didn
’
t want to think of a future without her in it.
He wanted to stand there, watching the pair of them, but he had business to conduct, a venture to put in motion.
After a final glance at Gran and Annabella, Jon turned and left the tower.
Jon leaned back in the chair and stared at the ledger in front of him. A sense of satisfaction warmed him and he smiled. It was going to happen. Grandfather
’
s estate settlement would nail the plan. All that remained was for Jon to contact Mr. Webber, the family solicitor, to inform him of the marriage between Jonathan Durham, the Fourth Earl of Seabrook and one Annabella Price, daughter of the late Bernard Price,
Third Baronet of
Kedelston
.
That ought to settle the suitability requirement. A twinge of something he vaguely recognized as guilt churned his stomach, but it did little to deter his focus from
the
goal.
When
the tingling
began
in the back of his neck,
though,
Jon
’
s smile faded.
Gran and Annabella had been on that blasted archery range for far longer than he
’
d expected. He
’
d been glad
that
Gran seemed to have a calming influence over highly strung
Annabella
. Now… he wasn
’
t so certain. Unable to shake the sudden feeling of unease, Jon
’
s gaze strayed to the study window. He had no need of a clock to tell him midday had come and gone. Afternoon sunlight slanted across the floor, though the brilliant glow failed to brighten the rich burgundy carpet. The room fit Nicholas with his too-serious nature, but Jon had always found it depressing.
Actually, he
’
d have welcomed depressing, for at the moment, he was finding only a sense of disquiet in the air. Something had gone awry. The quivering that began at the base of his spine and shot darts into his neck told him so.
Why, of all places, had he brought Annabella to Blackmoor Hall? He could have stayed in the cottage with her. Taken her to Scotland. Gone south to Plymouth. Anywhere but the family home… and Gran.
You definitely mucked this one up. Might as well have taken her to Grey
’
s townhouse in London. Probably would have fared better with him than Gran.
The door to the study flew open and Gran marched in
,
a
glower
on her imperial face.
Well, either that explained the prickling in his neck, or he’d conjured the devil’s wife, herself.
Too late he realized his mistake in staying home. He should have made himself scarce as he
’
d done the day before.
“
You never intended on telling that poor girl the truth of it, did you?
”
Gran
’
s snappish tone sent waves of dread washing over him.
No. Annabella would never —
could
never have confessed
that
to Gran. And yet…
His throat tightened
, making speech impossible. Surely the heat on his face would be less were he to stick his head in the fireplace.
Gran widened her stance and crossed her arms.
“
Well, what have you to say for yourself?
”
Irritated and in no mood to discuss something so intimate, he tossed the pen on the desk and snapped the ledger closed.
“
Forgive me, Grandmother, but this isn
’
t a subject I feel comfortable discussing with you.
”
Yes, he definitely should have gone to London and faced Grey instead.
At least that would have been a quick death.
“
Forgive
me
, but I can and
will
prohibit you from collecting your inheritance if you don
’
t explain to me the reason for keeping it from your wife. Doesn
’
t she have a righ
t to know?
”