the blood thundering in her ears. She almost tripped over her own feet. Had she heard him correctly? Her mouth ran dry. Did she want him to woo her? A sharp pang of sadness pierced her chest.
“Perhaps I’m unwooable,” she forced herself to say around the hard lump of emotion in her throat.
Simon snorted and guided her around a little knot of people. “Have you forgotten who you’re walking with? It seems my favorite pastime is attempting to woo the unwooable.”
“Per’aps ye can woo her with yer archery skills,” said a vendor. He gestured behind him where five bows hung on a rack, a quiver full of arrows next to each.
“Do you ever shoot at targets?” Simon asked her.
“Pffffft. Are you addled?” Lucas asked bluntly, pushing his way between Simon and Rae.
“It’s called being besotted,” Peter corrected matter-of-factly. “When a gentleman becomes besotted he takes leave of his senses. Just look at Drake and Juliet.”
All eyes went over to where Drake held a purple, lace parasol in one hand and was using the other to help his wife adjust her coiffure.
“Not the same,” Simon said. “I was merely asking Rae if she’d ever had a turn at shooting at targets—” he gave her brothers a pointed stare— “a pursuit that isn’t only for gentlemen.”
“As I said, pffft,” Lucas said then snorted. “Henny couldn’t hit the Tower of London from ten feet away.”
“Is that a challenge?” Simon’s free hand pressed softly into the small of Rae’s back. At the boys’ silence, Simon continued, “I’d wager your sister could get it closer to the center of the target—blindfolded—than either of you.”
The two boys howled with laugher and Rae’s face heated. “Simon, please.”
“It’ll be all right,” he whispered against her ear, rubbing his thumb on her back. “I have confidence.”
While his words were sweet, she wasn’t convinced. After all, she was the one he’d just stated would be given a bow and arrow…and a blindfold!
“And what will you give us when she injures someone?” Lucas demanded before releasing another howl of laughter.
Simon shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
“One hundred pounds?” Peter asked.
“If that’s what you want.” Simon’s tone gave nothing away.
Peter’s grey eyes widened to the size of his fists. “You have yourself a wager.”
“Not so fast,” Simon cut in. “If your sister wins, you—and everyone else who has the last name of Hughes—must refrain from calling me a toff ever again.”
Rae started. She looked at him—truly looked at him. Did their reference of him being such effect him so much? He’d frowned the first time it was said, but surely if it bothered him that much he’d have said so before now. Wouldn’t he? Odd.
“All right,” Peter said with a jerky nod.
“Good. Now go round up all of your rapscallion brothers and anyone else who shares your surname to bear witness.”
Simon’s final word was barely past his lips and Peter’s feet were stirring up a cloud of dust.
“All right, Rae.” Simon grabbed one of the bows from the rack and handed it to her. “Let’s see what we’re working with.” He held an arrow out to her.
Rae stared at the offending arrow as if he intended to shoot her with it. “I—I can’t.”
“Nonsense.” He closed the space between them and encircled her with his arms as he placed the arrow. “Take a step back,” he murmured in her ear, moving backward.
She stepped with him, his strong arms, spicy scent, and body warmth making it nearly impossible pay attention. “Simon, I don’t think…”
“That’s all right, you don’t need to think.” His hands covered hers and he lifted their arms. “Just aim.”
Rae released a shaky laugh. “I don’t know how.”
Simon pressed his body so closely against hers she could all but feel the steady beat of his heart. He pulled their right hands backwards, drawing the string of the bow tighter. “Lower your arms just a little,” he whispered against her hair. “Good. Now, close your left eye and use your right to look over the top of your arrow.” Her hands trembled beneath his, and he gave her hands a light squeeze. “You’re doing fine. Just look down your arrow toward the tip.”
Rae wiggled to get more comfortable in her stance and lowered her head. “It’s very long.”
Simon choked.
She craned her neck so she could see him. “Is something amiss?”
“No,” he croaked. “Now stop moving about and shoot.”
Rae frowned, then started to wiggle out of his embrace. “If it’s an imposition then I’ll tell Peter…”
Simon hardly heard the rest of her nonsense over the steady