A collection of scattered gasps rang out, followed by nervous laughter from ladies and approving hums from gentlemen.
“A lucky shot, one might say,” Matthew said conversationally. “They would be wrong.”
Load. Aim.Pop. Crack.
Load. Aim.Pop. Crack.
All three rounds landed directly in the center, carving out a hole. He could do this… hecould. For his family, for hiswife.
Duke Kendall clapped, the corners of his lips lifted while his eyes narrowed. “That is skillful indeed, but you have a secret, don’t you?”
“I do,” Matthew agreed. “This pistol is so accurate, even a blind man could shoot his target.” He raised the black cloth. “Would you care to do the honors, Your Grace?”
Duke Kendall got up from his seat, and Matthew turned in the opposite direction. He scanned the range, memorizing every detail, calculating distance and angle as best as he could before Duke Kendall tied the blindfold around his eyes. Blackness surrounded him as the cloth closed tight around his head. A whiff of Caroline’s daisy-scented perfume lifted in the air, smothered by Duke Kendall’s bitter musk. Ice-cold fingertips grazed the back of Matthew’s neck, raising every hair on his body.
“Mr. Reeves can load the pistol,” Duke Kendall said pointedly, “Seeing as he’s the only other person who knows how.”
The scent of rosemary and a warm presence replaced Duke Kendall’s. Seth chambered a round and placed the pistol in Matthew’s shaking hands, pressing firmly to steady him.
“You’ve practiced this,” he whispered. “Straight ahead. Breathe.”
“Ah-ah, no talking!” Duke Kendall called out.
Seth stepped away, and Matthew swallowed hard.
Sweat beaded at his brow, he had lost count of how many times he had done this. This was another practice session. That was all.Only practice.He held the pistol like an old friend, trusting his body to perform his will and Seth to reload. Matthew lifted the gun, and even the night bugs fell silent—as if they too were watching.
The world narrowed down to touch, smell, and sound. The familiar weight of the gun. The scent of metal and fire. Theclinkingof rounds being loaded, thepopof the shots, and each round hitting the target.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
A breath-stealing silence.
And then a roar.
Applause louder than he had ever heard echoed in the night air with the shuffling of guests rising to their feet. Clapping and laughter rose higher and higher. Matthew dared to lift the blindfold, and he nearly sank to his knees. On the target, his three shots landed within the center circle.
He released a shuddering breath.
I did it.
Duke Kendall pursed his lips, his face growing red. He curled his fingers around the arm rests of his throne until his knuckles turned white, clenching tighter with each cheer from the crowd.
Matthew gazed at Jasmine. Her expression remained guarded, but tension had eased from her shoulders. She gave him a brief nod, and he returned his attention back to the guests.
He bowed low to them. “That concludes my performance, you may all—”
“Now, now, that isn’t theentireperformance.” Duke Kendall replaced his grimace with a dark grin and approached, silencing the crowd once more. He twirled his hand again, and the apple materialized in his palm.
“An outstanding display.” Duke Kendall stalked to Matthew, tossing the apple in the air and catching it as it dropped. “You’re certainly the best marksman in England. It makes me wonder… do you believe you could shoot an apple at the same distance?”
“Confidently,” Matthew replied.
“Inanycircumstance?”
