Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,69

one wins.”

She jerked her head back to Jules since she’d missed the last few pieces of the conversation. He raised his brows at her.

“And the winner may choose the gentleman of her choice to escort her for the duration of tomorrow’s excursion,” Tabetha announced with glee.

“As does second place,” Mr. Spencer offered in a conciliatory tone. “Under which terms, the way I see it, the gentlemen chosen win regardless.”

“We will indeed,” Jules responded, lifting that one corner of his mouth ever so slightly. The urge to kiss the other corner in hopes of coaxing a full smile was most inconvenient.

The other Cocksure Gents, as Charley was beginning to think of them in her mind, had begun a few private discussions on their own. Were they actually going to bet on this foolish competition?

Of which the winner would choose a gentleman for… “Wait. What excursion?” Charley really needed to pay more attention to what was going on around her. In answer to the question she’d blurted out, all eyes swiveled toward her. Being the focus of attention wasn’t something she ever wanted, in fact, it was exactly what she would have avoided at all costs.

“Lady Westerley has planned a visit to the abandoned Abbey that sits on the edge of the estate. She’s arranged us to take tea outside—if the weather cooperates,” Bethany said.

“We’ll ride in carriages to the base but those who wish to experience the full benefit of its grandeur must hike to the top.” Tabetha’s enthusiasm showed clearly. “Bethany, Jules, and I have done it a thousand times, of course, but it’s one of my favorite places on all of Westerley Crossings.”

“Please, do not feel you have any obligation to participate in this ridiculous contest. My sister is an excellent archer.” It was kind of Miss Delia to be forthcoming with such information. How many unsuspecting young ladies had the younger girl watched her older sister humiliate?

“But then that would be considered a forfeit.” Lord Chaswick sent Charley a challenging glance.

Either way, Charley knew this silent war Rachel Somerset had declared was an unwinnable one. She shifted her gaze to the windows where a perfectly clear sky suggested future spring-like days. If she lost the contest purposely, then Rachel Somerset would, of course, select Lord Westerley as her companion.

It would be the perfect opportunity for Charley to nip these precarious emotions in the bud. Perhaps he would turn his affections toward another if he thought she wasn’t interested.

Because his secret courtship was stirring up some most inappropriate secret longings in Charley.

If Charley were to win the contest outright and then not select Jules as her companion, the message she sent would be an even stronger one.

The thought of him walking and talking with Rachel Somerset on tomorrow’s excursion sent Charley’s heart plummeting—which ought to be warning enough. But she’d let down her guard. And spending time alone with Julian Elias Fitzwilliam was a heady experience and could potentially weaken her resolve. She mustn’t allow her emotions to overrule her determination to reclaim her life in America and take over her father’s company.

“I accept your challenge, Miss Somerset.”

Chapter 19

WARRIOR WALLFLOWER

“Twenty pounds Miss Jackson edges her out,” Mantis said softly after sidling up beside Jules.

“I’d be a fool in more ways than one to take a bet like that.” Jules would not bet against Charley. Even if he didn’t believe she had a chance at hell in winning, he’d not do that.

She hadn’t wanted to participate in the contest, but he didn’t begrudge her for doing so. For as long as he’d been acquainted with the Somerset sisters, he knew that the older chit had not been afraid to show her claws. God help the man who married her.

God help him if Charley lost. He, as well as every other bachelor in England, was fully aware that that Rachel Somerset and her mother had been setting traps for titled gentlemen since the first day she’d made her come-out a few years ago. A trickle of sweat dripped down the back of his neck.

Charley would win. She’d been the one who’d aimed the arrows they’d shot together. Good lord, he hoped so.

Had he inadvertently aimed it for her? Had she merely experienced a short burst of beginner’s luck?

The prickly but pretty brunette lined up to take the first shot while Charley stood back, clutching her arms in front of herself. Was she nervous?

He couldn’t quite tell. Was she a warrior or a wallflower today?

The thwacking sound of an arrow landing drew