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“My apologies, I did not realize she had passed,” he said quickly, desperate to atone for any hurt he may have caused. “No wonder you think me ill-mannered. I should have guessed as she is not with you.”
“There is nothing to apologize for,” she said, though clearly there was some hurt there as she would not look back to him as she spoke. “She passed a little while ago. I miss her every day, but it has become easier.”
“I know what you mean,” he acknowledged, thinking back to the chair she had sat in the night before and the image of his father in the same seat.
“When did your father pass?” she asked, busying herself with preparing the arrow.
“Four years ago,” he answered. “And your mother?”
“Three,” she said. “Well, this is a miserable topic,” she altered her tone to something cheerier. “Let us talk of something happier instead.”
“Any preference on a topic?” he asked.
“I do have a preference,” she said as she pulled the arrow back. “I wish to discuss who is the finer shooter.” She released the arrow. It flew through the air and landed straight in the center of the target, not even slightly to the left or right but perfectly in the middle.
Antony felt his eyes widen in amazement before she looked back to him with an enticing smirk playing on her lips. “Then again, I think I know the answer to my question,” she said with glee.
“That is impossible.” He gestured toward the target. “I’ve rarely seen a shot like that.”
“Are you saying you do not think I could do it again?” she asked, gesturing for him to pass her another arrow.
“I’d be tempted to make a wager on it.”
“Then a wager it shall be,” she said, preparing the arrow. “What is the wager?”
He couldn’t resist the temptation to tease her, especially standing this close to her with their spark-filled conversation. Her scent was different from the ladies he met in the gentleman’s club. Where their scent was dark and musty, hers was light with a hint of rose and clementine. It made him yearn to take another step toward her.
“How about we make the wager another kiss?” he asked. She was so startled that she dropped the arrow entirely to the floor. “It seems you were the one distracted this time.”
She snatched the arrow off the floor and stood straight. Her face looked initially irked before she attempted a smile, forcing a smile she didn’t mean though Antony couldn’t figure out why.
“Let us choose another wager,” she said, lifting her chin and challenging him. “I am not fond of the idea that if I were to miss the target, I’d have to kiss you again.”
“Well, I had no idea I was such an awful kisser–”
“Your Grace,” she insisted, cutting him off. “It has nothing to do with the skill of the kisser.”
“So, you enjoyed it?” he asked, watching as she blushed all the more.
“It is a simple matter that losing the wager would mean risking my reputation further. Do not you think you have done enough damage to it already?”
“That suggests you think you cannot make the shot again,” he smiled, unable to resist teasing her more. “If you are so confident, why should we make the wager anything else?” She narrowed her eyes at him as her only answer before she looked away and lifted the arrow another time. He chuckled under his breath, waiting for her shot.
When she released the arrow, it followed the same trajectory as before and landed perfectly in the target, less than an inch away from the other.
“Well, I lost,” Antony said, with more than a little disappointment.
“Thank goodness for that,” Hermione said, looking back at him. He had itched forward while she was shooting until they were standing quite close together. Her eyes flicked down in surprise, looking at his lips.
He was tempted to kiss her. The yearning for it rumbled deep within him as he could remember the feel of her lips from the night before. For a minute, his lips hovered near hers, knowing he could take it. Yet he didn’t.
Whatever spark there was between him and Lady Hermione, it had to stay at this alone. He was more than happy to enjoy this flirtation with her, and it was certainly the most interesting flirtation he’d had, but that was as far as it could go. He only ever spent one night with a woman, and Lady Hermione couldn’t even give him that, not without destroying her reputation. As for the other option… marriage was impossible.
He leaned away from her, stopping himself from being so tempted. As he turned from her, he looked through the trees, and something caught his eye. Some distance away and staring in his direction was the Earl of Branigan walking with Mrs. Atkins and his mother. The Earl was watching the two of them intently together.
Well, I would have been trapped into marriage then, wouldn’t I?He thanked his lucky stars he had restrained himself and stepped away from Lady Hermione, determined to resist her.
“Your father seems to be keeping a close eye on you,” he remarked.
