Well, that and his reaction to my shooting?
Hattie gave a final push at my back when we reached the steep, winding path. “Go on, we both know you are dying to get a fowling piece in your hands.”
I stumbled forward a few steps and then turned back to look at her. She stood at the top of the path, the wind dancing in the curls along the side of her head with a smile so genuine and hopeful on her face that whatever selfish thoughts I’d had since my time at Applewood evaporated like a puff of smoke. I grinned back at her. “I prefer pistols, but of course you’re right.”
She laughed and with that joyous look on her face emblazoned upon my eyes I turned and practically ran down the side path. I would have given up all sense of propriety and run down the hill if it weren’t for the fact that Mrs. Wickerton was in attendance. Shooting a gun was bad enough—I shouldn’t alsobe caught running about like a wild woman. I reached the lower level lawn and strode down the path until I made it to the base of the archery butts.
I glanced behind me to see if anyone else was following, but it appeared I was the last to arrive.
“Evelyn.” Papa’s voice boomed when he caught sight of me. All the men turned, and I cursed my father quietly for not realizing the awkward stares that would accompany me as I finished walking the last few yards toward him.
Vincent Howard whipped his head around and grinned at my arrival. That wasn’t a surprise. He’d been a ridiculous flirt these past few days, taking particular joy in tormenting me. He also hadn’t hidden his desire for another chance at trying to best me with firearms. But I hadn’t been prepared for the smiles from everyone else. We’d had multiple groups stay at Blackwell, and we’d always spent at least one afternoon shooting. Every time there were at least one or two gentlemen who were so baffled by my presence they’d glanced at my arms as if expecting me to have brought refreshments.
But all the men in this party looked as though they’d been expecting me. Lieutenants Davis and Brookhouse were practically beaming. Charlie was jubilant, excited to have an afternoon with the men. The only person who looked reserved at all about my appearance was Captain Calder. He gave me a nod of greeting, even a smile, but behind that smile was a wariness absent from everyone else.
Perhaps I would have to report back to Hattie and tell her to cross him off her list.
Papa nodded to his three former soldiers and then put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m about to show you what learning from me from infancy can do.”
Sir Howard raised his eyebrows at me. “You do know that if Vincent bests you, he is going to be insufferable. Are you certainyou want to join us? You could simply let it stand and let him stew over it for the rest of his life.”
Papa smiled at him. “She’ll join us, and your son’s stewing is not at risk.”
Sir Howard furrowed his brow. “You haven’t seen him shoot in over ten years.”
“True,” Papa conceded. “But I’ve seenhershoot.”
Brookhouse chuckled from the table where the guns and ammunition had been set up. His eyes sparkled with sunlight.
“Papa,” I said with false modesty, “I haven’t fired a gun in at least six months.” I glanced around at all the men. Every eye was on me. “I cannot guarantee I still know how.”
A scoff sounded from Captain Calder. He didn’t look up. He was busy cleaning out a barrel of one of Papa’s fowling pieces. It hadn’t been shot yet, so it must have been clean, but I suppose he wanted something to do.
“Don’t act modest, Miss Blackwell,” Lieutenant Brookhouse said. “No man under your father shot a rifle without him telling us how abysmal we were compared to his daughter. I can guarantee there are three men here that would finally like the chance to prove him wrong and we won’t have you claiming lack of practice.”
“Papa, you didn’t.”
“Of course I did.” He caught Brookhouse’s eye. “Theywereall abysmal compared to you.”
Lieutenant Davis walked quietly to my side, his large frame casting a shadow over my dress. “If you’ll allow it, Miss Blackwell, I’d like to claim you as my partner.”
“Unfair.” Brookhouse set down one of the fowling pieces. “None of the rest of us had the chance. Besides,” he said, turning to Papa, “are we even playing with partners?”
Papa shook his head. “Sorry, Davis, perhaps another day. First, we need to discover everyone’s skill. Otherwisepartnerships will be unfair. I’ll assess everyone’s skills while we individually try to hold the mark. Brookhouse and Calder, you’re first.”
Lieutenant Brookhouse’s mouth dropped open and his forehead furrowed. “You want me to go out first round?”
Lieutenant Davis left my side and slapped Brookhouse on the back. “You were going to anyway. It might as well be against a possible champion.”
Davis believed Captain Calder to be a solid shot then. Not surprising, seeing he’d served under Papa. But so had Brookhouse. I wished Captain Calder would look at me. But he didn’t. He simply picked up the fowling piece he’d been cleaning and motioned with his head for Lieutenant Brookhouse to choose his weapon. Brookhouse did so with a grumble and the two of them stood at the mark thirty yards from the closest target.
“Best out of three?” Lieutenant Brookhouse asked Papa.
Papa nodded. “If there is a tie, you will shoot best out of three again.”
“I guess I might as well get this over with,” Lieutenant Brookhouse muttered and took the first shot.
It landed on the second ring—a fair shot. Not masterful, but nothing to be ashamed of either, at least not with a fowling piece. They were notoriously tricky to make accurate.
