Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,66

ballroom.

“The primary benefit of this sport is that it allows ladies to show off their figure,” Tabetha announced.

Charley rubbed the side of her face. It was a sport for hunting, was it not? A bow was a weapon, and arrows were dangerous projectiles. The English aristocracy latched onto some very unusual forms of entertainment.

She marveled further when she stepped into the ballroom to see that it had been reconfigured once again. This time with large painted circles for targets and stacked bales of hay behind and above them. Julian stood proudly beside a table where various bows and arrows were set out, and his friends had congregated as well.

“The gentlemen are here to assist with your instruction,” Bethany whispered beside her, a warm blush on her cheeks.

Charley wondered which particular gentleman caused Bethany’s sudden coloring.

“Have you ever shot an arrow, Miss Jackson?” Lord Chaswick stood posed as though he ought to be in a painting, his chestnut hair combed back neatly, dressed impeccably and holding the bow at his side.

She smiled. “A few times.” It would be nice to participate in something in which she was not completely inept. Although the bows and arrows she’d used in the past had been smaller and less ornate.

“Archery is a sport in America?” Bethany seemed genuinely interested.

“Don’t be silly, Bethany! The savages use them! Do you know any savages, Charley?” Charley bristled a little at Tabetha’s question. “Has your family ever had to fight them off?”

“I do know one.” But he was not a savage boy at all. He’d been her friend, of sorts. And this aspect of America was so much more complicated than she could even begin to explain. “Lyncona was born Creek Indian. Muscogee. A… friend of my father’s adopted him when his family was killed in a battle.”

“Does he paint his face? Is he dangerous? I hear some of the natives in Africa do that.”

“My friend was not dangerous.” She smiled sadly. “I was only acquainted a short while, and he was much younger than me, but on a few occasions when our fathers were busy in meetings with one another, he took the time to show me a bow that he’d built. It wasn’t as large as these.”

Tabetha’s eyes were large as saucers, and she exaggerated a shiver that ran through her. “You are so much braver than me.”

“Not at all. It’s not as though Philadelphia is teaming with Indians. They are people. Like you and me.” Just as she’d had preconceived notions about the English, so too, it seemed they did about Americans. “And they do, on occasion, paint their faces. But they trade in the towns. They eat. They hunt. A white family raised Lync. Other than his darker skin and hair, he was very much the same as you and I. He made saddles on his father’s estate.”

The room had fallen oddly quiet, and Charley felt Jules watching her. Was she talking too much again? The same as when she’d sat beside Lady Westerley?

“What a different life you have lived,” Bethany tilted her head as she commented thoughtfully.

“My father introduced me to more people than my mother approved.” Because she had often insisted upon remaining at his side. She’d never wanted to be left at home, forced to dress up and learn pursuits that interested her mother.

As she spoke, Charley flicked her gaze around the room. This was how her mother had been raised. What if she’d tried harder to get along with her mother? Could Charley possibly have a closer relationship with her? Had her mother’s insistence that she become a lady, simply been her way of showing that she loved her?

Guilt prickled down her spine.

These people—Jules, his friends, his sisters, and even Lady Felicity—they’d been more than kind to her. They hadn’t tried to make her feel inferior or different or ashamed in any way. She looked from Bethany, who was blushing beside Lord Chaswick, to Tabetha, to the giant Viscount Mannington-Tissenton, both Spencers, and the very elegant marquess.

And to Jules, who had stepped forward, holding a bow at his side as well.

They had protected her. Jules had gone out of his way to make her feel welcome.

“I look forward to watching you shoot.” Amusement danced in his eyes.

Whereas Lord Chaswick was golden and statuesque, Jules’ elegant nonchalance sent Charley’s heart leaping. She blinked and forced her breaths to calm. Other gentlemen appeared stiff in their tightly fitted jackets, breeches, and cravats, but Jules seemed perfectly comfortable and he moved with casual grace.

“It