Page 30 of The Marquess’s Masked Archer

As if delivered straight from the Lord, an idea flitted through her mind, one that might help both her and Miles.

Gritting her teeth, Sylvie faced him with her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not sure why you want to pursue a story so many other reporters have already covered. This show has been well covered in local papers in recent weeks. However, I happen to know of an interesting story that might be worth your time.”

His lips twisted in a sarcastic smile, but Sylvie caught an intrigued gleam hiding in his eyes. “Well played, Miss Archer. I’ll take the bait. What might this story be?”

“There’s a university research facility at Biemiller’s Cove, south of the resort. One of their researchers recently made a fascinating discovery about the way dysentery spreads through insects. A potential breakthrough in stemming the tide of a disease would surely be of more interest to your readers than old news about an archery demonstration.”

The reporter scribbled some notes, and Sylvie gave him more specific directions to the research laboratory. As he walked away, relief mingled with something heavier in her chest. Had she been right to send him to Miles without any warning? The reporter didn’t seem to be the most scrupulous man. Would he write an accurate article about Miles’s work that would help him gain visibility, or would it turn out to be a mistake?

Sylvie had far too much time the rest of that day to ponder those questions and a myriad more. Mother intercepted her the moment she stepped through the door at home, demanding that Sylvie sit through visiting hours with her that afternoon. So, after cleaning up and dressing to receive guests, Sylvie settled on the most comfortable settee in the parlor and braced herself for inane socializing.

Silence filled the room while they waited. Mother passed the time with some handiwork. Sylvie’s hands had grown so rough from handling her bow more than usual that she feared she’d snag more thread than she was able to stitch. So she sat and waited, questions swirling in her mind while the clock ticked away.

Finally, their butler appeared in the doorway. “Mr. Kinsey and Mr. Greene, my lady.”

The two gentlemen entered the room as soon as the butler stepped back. Sylvie slid her best graceful smile into place. Mr. Greene’s presence was always a trial, but Mr. Kinsey seemed a nice enough fellow. And she hadn’t succeeded in testing whether or not he could be her secret admirer yet. Perhaps she could get herself into a conversation with him while Mother entertained Mr. Greene. Discovering the author wasn’t all that important to her anymore, but it would give her something to do.

Unfortunately, Mr. Greene made a beeline to claim the seat next to Sylvie on the settee. “Good afternoon, Miss Bryce. I trust you’re having a nice day.”

Years of practice in social niceties took over control of Sylvie’s body and mouth. Instead of rolling her eyes at the pandering sentiment, she inclined her head toward him. “Most certainly. And you?”

Mr. Greene’s lips stretched into a broad grin. “Oh, it was lovely. I spent the morning at the Cedar Point resort. Have you been? There were so many fascinating sights to behold.”

A chilly grip strangled Sylvie’s heart. Had he been anywhere near the archery demonstration? She’d been so distracted by the pushy reporter that she might have slipped in a way someone who knew her would notice.

Refusing to panic, Sylvie forced another nod and kept her tone even. “I have. I went with Miss Duboise and the Moreau sisters last month. It’s quite the spectacle, to be sure.”

Mr. Greene nodded with far too much enthusiasm. “Yes, yes, indeed. What was your favorite attraction?”

Usually, this gentleman prattled on about himself. Why did he choose now—with her mother right across from them, most assuredly eavesdropping even in the midst of her small talk with Mr. Kinsey—to pursue a topic that hit so close to Sylvie’s secret? “Ah, I don’t believe I could choose a favorite. What attractions did you have the opportunity to enjoy?”

There, turning the conversation back to him might fix the problem. Sylvie only half listened as he talked about walking the boardwalk, riding a boat through the lagoons, and eating at a lunch counter. But her brooding halted when he finally made a definitive statement. “My favorite would have to be the archery demonstration, if I must choose. Did you know they have a female archer there who dresses as Robin Hood and performs the most marvelous trick shots? I’ve heard that when she has a partner, the show is an absolute spectacle, but Will Scarlet wasn’t there today. I intend to return and see if I can catch a show with him involved.”

Oh, wonderful. She’d wanted word to spread about the show, believing it would be the best possible result. But she hadn’t considered the way she would be put on the spot when the members of Cleveland’s high society got wind of it. Sylvie would need to be ever so much more careful to protect herself.

Mother clicked her tongue, both she and Mr. Kinsey listening to them openly now. “Goodness, a woman putting herself on display that way? How dreadful. I’m ashamed of her on behalf of her parents, poor souls.”

A small part of Sylvie had always hoped Mother might understand her work if she were forced to reveal it. But the utter disdain on her face proved otherwise. Sylvie’s heart sank more than she would have expected. She’d known it would be this way. Disappointment didn’t help matters.

“What’s so terrible about a woman doing something she enjoys? It sounds as if she’s good at it.” Given the way Mr. Kinsey came to the lady archer’s defense, perhaps it would be nice if he turned out to be the author of Sylvie’s letters, after all. There might be more to him than she’d initially presumed.

Mother harrumphed with a shake of her head. “No good can come from amusement park goers ogling young ladies. No, I maintain it’s shameful.”

Mr. Kinsey shrugged and offered Sylvie and Mr. Greene a smile. “I’d go see the show. Perhaps you’d agree to accompany me there sometime, Miss Bryce? I’ve heard you’ve a talent for archery yourself, so I imagine you’d enjoy it.”

A new level of panic sent goosebumps across Sylvie’s skin. There was no way on earth that she could get cornered into agreeing to see the show with anyone. But if Mother agreed for her, what could she do?

The only option was to play the part of a wilting, delicate lady. “Oh, I don’t know. I enjoyed one visit, but going again might be too much for me. It was quite exhausting. I’d rather stick to the opera or a lovely ball.”

Sylvie hated herself for that statement. Everything within her screamed that no woman was that fragile—rather, that they were capable of so much more than society wanted to believe. But the untruth served its purpose. The gentlemen moved the conversation to other local amusements they’d enjoyed so far that summer. Mother, on the other hand, kept narrowed eyes trained on Sylvie for far too long. Perhaps the uncharacteristic excuse hadn’t been her wisest move. It was the only way she could see to stay far away from accompanying one of these men to Cedar Point, though.

As their visiting hours waned and the men prepared to leave, Mr. Kinsey took the opportunity to arrange to accompany her to the opera that night. Mr. Greene all but pouted on his way out, downright despondent that he’d missed his opportunity. But Sylvie was stuck on the questions that had arisen from the afternoon. How long could she continue to hide her activities at the resort from those who knew her? And what could she do to ensure she earned enough money and freedom before it all fell apart?

Miles emerged from the laboratory after meeting with the head of the university entomology department and immediately smacked the side of the building with an open palm, drawing in deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

It wasn’t as if he’d expected the man to hand over a huge sum of money upon seeing what the research team was working on, but he’d hoped for a little enthusiasm. Instead, the older administrator—who had been at the university nearly since its inception—tapped his foot in boredom the entire time Miles and the students presented their various findings from the summer so far. And he left with no promises to provide them with any further funding, which was what they’d needed from the meeting.

An unfortunate reality of scientific research was that it required money. They had to have a plentiful supply of microscopes, slides, traps and bait, blocks and pins to preserve specimens, forceps, and photography equipment to record their findings. And that was just the entomologists. Each discipline represented at the laboratory needed specialized items, many of them costly. They’d all hoped Miles’s discovery, combined with the rest of their research, would be enough to convince the entomology department to pour more funds into their program. But they’d been wrong.