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Chapter18
The sun shone happily down on the sweeping lawn behind Chelton, which was entirely the opposite of how I felt. James had taken the liberty of setting up targets on the long, flat portion of the lawn so we might shoot arrows into them.
Indeed, it was quite as unpleasant as it sounded.
I docked my arrow exactly as James had shown me and released it, only to watch it fly a measly few yards and flop onto the ground before me.
“I did tell you I am awful at archery,” I repeated, moving forward to collect my discarded arrows. “I participated in a competition at Arden Castle last summer and was terribly beaten.”
“Yes, but you were also holding the bow incorrectly. Now that I’ve taught you properly, it shall be an entirely different experience.” He tilted his head, squinting against the bright sun. “Tell me it is at least a little more enjoyable when you play against me?”
I bent to pick up an arrow and straightened to find James watching me, waiting for an answer. It was not any more enjoyable simply because he was around—but I did enjoy being around him. After the heavy dinner we’d shared with his family the evening before and the confirmation that no one—as of this morning—had determined what was best to be done about Miss Northcott, this small break from the stuffy house was welcome. It would be more welcome if I was not forced to shoot arrows I did not want to shoot.
I tapped one gloved finger against my chin. “Come to think of it, it is far better to lose soundly to you than it is to be beaten by my cousins.”
James emitted a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. He took a deliberate step forward, and my body froze. His mischievous smile matched his careful steps, and I found myself moving backward, matching him step for step.
“You do not mean to say that you are not having fun, Mrs. Bradwell?” he teased. “That would never do. I must contrive a way to salvage the remainder of our afternoon together.”
James picked up his speed, and I squealed—a sound that did not often escape my lips—and turned to run. I hardly made it a yard before James’s arm went around my waist and pulled me against him.
I could not allow him to win so easily at everything he did today, so I twisted his hand until he released me, picked up my skirts, and ran for the garden.
James, after a stunned moment, was hot in pursuit. I made it to the thick hedge that lined the garden and jumped behind a tree, narrowly avoiding his hand grabbing at my skirt. I couldn’t help but laugh, and he responded in kind. I spun to face him and mirrored his motions, keeping the tree between us.
“You break my heart, Felicity,” he said, mocking sadness.
“Well, I must win at something today.”
James laughed, lunging for me, and I jumped back just in time to avoid his grasp. But my heel snagged on something solid, and before I knew what was happening, I flopped backwards and into a fountain, landing hard on my backside in the shallow pool. Cold water seeped through my gown, shocking the breath from my lungs. I shared a stunned look with James until mirth creeped onto his lips and into the wrinkles surrounding his eyes.
“Yes, laugh,” I said, granting permission. I pinched my sodden skirt and lifted it from the water before dropping it again with a splat. My chest rolled with accompanying chuckles, and I pushed up to remove myself from the water feature, but the bottom was slick with a mossy layer of slime, and my hands slipped, dunking me further beneath the water.
“Gads, woman,” James said, laughing harder. “Allow me to assist you.”
I peeled off my soaked gloves and tossed them on the ground near his feet, then reached for his hand, and he sucked in a breath when our skin met. “That is blasted cold.”
My eyebrows lifted.
He chuckled softly. “Here, allow me to—”
“Join me?” I asked, finishing his sentence. I yanked hard and a brief look of horror crossed over his face before he lost his footing and fell down into the fountain beside me. Water splashed around him and soaked my face, and I gasped, wiping the droplets from my eyes.
“Cold!” I exclaimed.
“Serves you right,” James muttered, shaking his head like a wet hound. He pushed up onto his knees but must not have anticipated the slickness of the fountain and came down again onto his stomach.
I could not help the rolling laughter that emitted from me. It was quite impossible to stem once it began, and I clutched my wet abdomen and bent forward, laughing at the sorry, wet picture we made.
When I was able to contain my mirth once again, I grinned at James, and he shook his head ruefully. “You look—”
“Like a drowned rat?” I asked, picking up a limp curl that had broken free from my coiffure and dropping it on my shoulder with a splat.
James, now completely given up and seated in the water beside me, lifted my lock of hair and wound it around his finger. “No, nothing like vermin. You are glowing.”
“I believe you mean I am shimmering due to the sun hitting my wet skin.”
“No, I meant glowing.”
