Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,67

will show off my form, or so I’ve been told.” Charley couldn’t help herself.

“Are you flirting with me, Miss Jackson?”

The sunlight slanting through the terrace windows caused his blue eyes to appear brighter than usual, the color of cornflowers in bloom. She felt heat creeping into her cheeks at his words. Because she’d done more than flirt with him the night before.

She was grateful for the fan Daisy had insisted she take with her that morning and felt every bit the lady as she flicked it open and fanned herself.

Jules’ smile grew wider.

“Well, are we going to shoot or are we going to stand about staring at one another all morning?” Lord Manningham-Tissinton’s voice echoed in the large open space.

“We are going to shoot,” Tabetha announced and she and Bethany sprang forward to select bows for themselves while Mr. Stone Spencer set out various arrows.

“Normally, we would have targets set up facing one another, so that after all the archers have taken their turns, we could cross to the other side and then shoot back.”

“It is all about showing off one’s form,” Tabetha reminded her with a wink, meeting Charley’s gaze and laughing. She then tipped her head backward and, taking long exaggerated strides, glided across the room to face the nearest target. “Shall I go first?”

Both Chaswick and Manningham-Tissinton, in unison, threw their arms up in mock surrender.

“If the rest of you value your life, I highly recommend standing back,” Jules warned with an indulgent glance in his youngest sister’s direction.

Tabetha threw a glare toward all the gentlemen and then raised her bow, drew back on the string, and shot off the arrow.

It arced upward into the air and then descended just as gracefully, landing on the shining parquet floor about five feet in front of her.

Nonplussed, Mr. Spencer stepped up behind her and handed her another arrow. With everyone looking on, he practically embraced her from behind as he explained what she could do to improve her skills and adjusted her stance at the same time.

The second arrow she shot off, with his assistance, plunged nicely into the outer rim of the target.

When everyone around her applauded softly, including Jules, Charley belatedly clapped her gloved hands together.

Jules beckoned with one arm toward a spot distant from the second target “Shall we, Miss Jackson?”

She could easily inform him that she was perfectly capable but a devilish and unusual urge kept her from speaking up. With a slight nod, she lifted the bow and pretended to study it curiously. Utterly self-assured, Julian accepted an arrow from Mr. Spencer and moved to stand behind her.

“Hold the bow here”—he lifted her hand and adjusted it on the smooth wooden grip of the bow—“and pull back on the string like so.” He used his other hand to show her where to grasp the string.

Charley had held a bow numerous times and yet with his chest touching her back, and his arm resting along her shoulder, in the presence of other people, she fumbled to rest the arrow on the shelf when he handed it to her.

“You pull back on the bow string just so.” His breath caressed her cheek.

This man.

This blasted British earl.

What was it about him that made her feel lighter? That caused her to feel weak with giddiness?

Focus on the target.

Deep breath.

Closing one eye, she slipped the string into the nock and pinched the arrow between her fingers just in front of the fletching. Reasoning that his nearness had caused her to feel rather weak, she then allowed the man—the one she’d been determined to resist, to dislike even before she’d met him—well, she allowed that same man to tutor her in doing something she’d done hundreds of times before. Together, they drew the string backward and not half a second after she released, the arrow landed in the center of the target with a satisfying thump.

Silence met her shot initially, and then the others were applauding softly.

“Perhaps Miss Jackson should be instructing you, Jules old boy.”

Charley forced herself to appear as unaffected as possible, hardly aware of which of the other gentlemen commented. Because Julian hadn’t moved. In fact, he seemed to have drawn closer.

He slipped a second arrow into her hand, and they went through the motions a second time with the same resulting bullseye. She could almost imagine they were alone again, only vaguely aware that the others had begun shooting at the second target set up in the room.

Even Mrs. Crabtree’s presence in the corner didn’t matter.

What