Lady Archer's Creed 02 - Georgina

by Christina McKnight

  She crossed to the rear of the house with haste not allowing anything to catch her attention as she had no time to dally.

  With her heart thumping, she pulled open the large veranda door leading into the ballroom and flung herself inside. Georgie leaned against the gold and cream papered wall for a moment, her hand on her belly.

  The scent of fresh beeswax used to polish the floor along with flowers and potted ferns wrapped around her as her breathing returned to normal. She’d done it. She had escaped the duchess’s notice.

  Chapter 3

  “Bloody hell.” Georgina lowered her bow to her side as she squinted against the late afternoon sun. She should not have missed that shot. Her stance and pressure on the bow string had been perfect.

  Josie walked across the plush, freshly trimmed grass toward the target where Georgina’s arrow stuck in the white ring surrounding the bullseye. “I dare say, you must not speak so vulgarly in public. It is not becoming of a lady.”

  Georgie glanced around. At this time of day, Hyde Park was not buzzing with people. Even if rotten row were a crush of aristocrats, they would not hear her from the area they practiced on.

  “Stuff it, Josie.” Adeline gave a self-satisfied grin.

  Georgie pulled a new arrow from the leather pouch hanging at her waist. “I will hit the center this time.”

  Theo peeled off her kid leather glove, then held her index finger in the air. “You must take the wind into consideration when determining your angle and trajectory.”

  Georgie mimicked Theo, holding her own finger to the wind. There was movement in the warm spring air, enough to blow an arrow off course though it did nothing to cool her skin. “A slight adjustment should do the trick.”

  Theo nodded as Josie returned to her side.

  Georgie spread her feet and adjusted her bow to account for the wind. She released the arrow, watching it fly through the air before sticking in the center of the target. A rush of joy lifted her spirits.

  “If you shoot like that every time, you will be unstoppable.” Theo smiled.

  “It was a perfect shot.” Josie began toward the target to pull the arrow out.

  If Georgie shot like that at Cheapside, Felton would pose no problem for her at all. Indeed, Theo was correct. No one would get in her way.

  “Stop.” Adeline stepped up to Georgie with her bow in hand. “Leave her arrow in place. I wish to splinter it.”

  “And you shall keep wishing. There is no way you can hit my arrow.” Georgie cocked a hip.

  “Just you watch.” Adeline nocked an arrow, pulled the string, and let it slice across the blue sky. Thunk. Her arrow stuck into the outer edge of the bullseye.

  “Splinter mine you said?” Georgie smiled only half in jest.

  Adeline scowled at her. “Sometimes I wonder why I call you friend.”

  Georgie laughed and pushed a curl from her cheek. “You haven’t any choice in the matter. I know your secrets.”

  Adeline grinned. “Despite how annoying you are today. I would not wish it any other way.”

  Theo took hold of Adeline’s arms and adjusted the angle she held her bow at. “You need to come up slightly.”

  When Georgie had arrived at school, Adeline had been the best archer there. She knew it pained the girl to now be third in line, behind Theo and then herself. All the same, Adeline seemed to adjust well and could still count herself better than most female archers.

  “Pull my arrow, Josie.” Adeline glanced at Georgie. “I’ll at least match you this time.”

  “You better, or I may stop counting you as a worthy advisory.” Georgie adjusted her wide brimmed bonnet, pulling it up and back into place to better shade her face.

  Adeline returned her attention to the task at hand, adjusting her hold and stance while Josie pulled the arrow as she’d bid.

  Theo stepped back to allow Adeline space. “Do not be hasty. Take your time.”

  Aldine pressed her lips into a line, deep concentration furrowing her forehead. After several long seconds, she released the arrow. It struck Georgina’s before falling to the ground. “Hah!” Adeline jumped, a smile tugging her lips. “I told you I would do it.”

  She had not quite achieved her goal, but Georgie would not point out the fact that her arrow remained in tack while Adeline’s lay on the grass. “Indeed, you did.”

  Theo bent to retrieve her bow and arrows. “I think that is enough for today. Adeline and I must be getting home.”

  A footman approached and both ladies handed over their equipment before Adeline turned back to Georgie and Josie. “Same time on the morrow?”

  “Yes,” Josie said.

  Georgie nodded her agreement.

  “Very well. Come along, Adeline.” Theo waved her toward their waiting carriage. “Alistair will be cross if we do not return in time for supper.”

  “I could not give a fig whether or not my brother grows cross.” Adeline dusted her skirts.

  Theo frowned. “You know he only has your best interests at heart.”

  Georgie grimaced for Adeline as she knew what Alistair’s best interests cost her friend. She may not be the best archer in their little group, but she loved the sport, the thrill of competing every bit as much as Georgie did.

  “Indeed.” Adeline followed Theo to their carriage.

  Georgie turned to Josie. “Must you be going as well?”

  “I am free to stay for a bit longer if you wish to continue.” Josie looked across the stretch of grass separating them from their target. “Heaven knows I need the practice if I am to compete without making a hash of it.”

  Georgie placed a hand on Josie’s shoulder. “Do not be so hard on yourself. You shoot with skill when you keep your nerves at bay.”

  Josephine was the least skilled archer among them, but still hit the bullseye more often than not. Theo had spent countless hours teaching her proper form and execution. They had all encouraged her confidence. Georgie wished with her whole heart the girl would stop being so down on herself.

  “Keeping my nerves from getting the best of me remains a difficult task.” Josie lifted her bow and moved into position. “It is one thing when just the three of you are watching me, but entirely different when a crush of others are.”

  “You need only learn to ignore the crowd. Pin all of your focus on the arrow and target as Theo has taught us to do.”

  Josie pulled back on the bow string, then released her arrow, hitting the center of the target.

  “See, just like that.” Georgina smiled. “And you accomplished it under the scrutiny of our footmen.”

  Josephine walked toward the target to retrieve her arrow. “Footmen hardly count.” She tossed the words over her shoulder. “Still, I will do my best at the tournament so as not to disappoint you.”

  Georgie kicked at a wayward weed in the grass. “You could miss every shot and I would not be disappointed. It is your friendship and support I seek at the tourney.”

  “And that you shall always have.”

  Even if the words had not rung true in her tone, Georgie would have recognized the honesty in them. She counted herself blessed to have such good friends. She looked at Josie. “I nearly forgot.” She reached into her pocket and retrieved the coins she’d concealed there. “I have something for you.”

  Josie tilted her head. “Whatever now?”

  “Use them for a set of men’s clothing and new arrows for Cheapside.” Georgie pressed the coins into Josie’s hand. “Be sure to get a hat, or better yet, a mask to conceal your face.”

  “Like Robin Hood.” Josie closed her fingers around the money, a flush creeping across her checks. “I do not know how I will ever repay you for all that you have done for me.”

  “Stop. There is no need for that.” Georgie moved into shooting stance, having no wish to stretch out her friend’s discomfort.

  Georgie and Josie took turns shooting, both hitting the bullseye more often than not, until late afternoon shadows stretched across the park a
nd Georgie’s muscles grew weary. “I fear I cannot fire one more arrow today, leastwise my arms will fall off. My stepmother will certainly know what I’ve been up to if I return home with only one arm.”

  Josie pulled her last shot from the target. “I really must be getting home at any rate.”

  Georgina signaled for her footmen to come gather their target and take her archery equipment. She turned her attention back to Josie who now strolled toward her waiting horse and waved her off.

  The idea of returning home held no appeal for Georgie. The duchess would likely request her company again, as she had every day for the last sennight. Georgie was bone-weary of playing nice with the woman.

  She glanced around the park. Though the hour grew late, there still remained several hours of sunlight. Her gaze stalled on the Serpentine. Its water shone like a million little crystals in the sun’s rays. It proved an invitation she could not ignore and she started toward it. A stroll along the curved of the lake would be most welcome.

  Though she detested swimming and would never venture out onto a body of water, she did find it relaxing to be near bodies of water. They were generally peaceful and always quite pretty. She reached the bank of the Serpentine and began strolling along it, her pace lazy, mind wondering.

  “My lady,” a shout echoed from afar.

  Georgina attempted to look back over her shoulder. Something big and hard hit her behind her knees and she got knocked off balance. Splash. Fear gripped her as she flailed her arms in an effort to gain control, the cool water closing in on her. Dear God, she was going to drown.

  She kicked her feet but only managed to tangle her legs in her skirts. Rising panic choked her as she flailed her arms. A mouthful of water added to her plight when she tried to scream, then her head went under.

  Something, or rather someone, grabbed hold of her. She was tugged against something hard and solid before being dragged ashore. It was not until she was settled on the grass that she collected herself enough to look up…up…up, at the person standing above her.

  Her rescuer.

  Felton.

  Her breaths came in quick labored pants, making it impossible to speak.

  He leaned down and stroked her wet hair. “Easy, Lady Bug. You’re safe now.”

  Fighting the urge to flinch away, she closed her eyes and allowed him to pull her close once more as he knelt beside her. As much as she hated it, she could not deny the comfort she found in his arms nor the fact that he had saved her life.

  “Do not fret. I have you.”

  She relaxed more with every breath she drew until at last she regained control of herself. The entire time, Felton had been talking softly and stroking her hair as he held her. She longed to stay pressed to him, encircled in the safety of his embrace. It was a foolish notion, one she could not abide.

  Georgie pushed away from him, squaring her shoulders with a confidence that eluded her. Digging deep, she summoned the strength to do as she must—push him away. “What are you doing?”

  “Rescuing you it would seem.”

  She likely would have drowned without his aide, but she’d never tell him that. She peered at him. “I did not require saving. Certainly not from you.”

  Felton stood, then proceeded to ring water from his coat. “My apologies, Lady Georgina. It will never happen again.”

  Her heart hitched at the hurt and anger in his tone, but she remained strong in her resolve. “I certainly hope not.”

  He gave her an icy glare before walking away.

  It was only then that Georgie looked around to see who else had witnessed her disgrace. A couple of people stood farther down the curve of the Serpentine staring in her direction. She did not recognize any of them. Likely servants or shopkeepers out for a late day stroll.

  She turned her attention back to Felton’s retreating form.

  Her footman rushed toward her, pausing when Felton stepped in front of him.

  “It would not pain you to be more attentive to your mistress,” Felton said, his tone rough and demanding. “See that this never occurs again.”

  The footman nodded and Felton stepped aside, allowing the man to pass.

  Georgie’s irritation only rose with the exchange. Felton did care about her in some regard to be so angry. However, she could not allow herself to care for him, not again.

  She fought the urge to call after him, to apologize and thank him for saving her. This was for the best. She bit her lip to stop the words from coming as she watched him stomp across the stretch of grass.

  Chapter 4

  Felton heard his solicitor speaking, but could not claim to be paying attention to his words. Perhaps this meeting would be better left to a different time. Regardless, the man was here, in his office. Felton could not very well toss him out. “I am sorry. You were saying?”

  The solicitor blinked from behind wire rimmed spectacles. “I have gone over the mine’s profits and calculated the sustainability of your business.”

  Felton nodded.

  “There is enough profit…”

  The man’s words muddled in Felton’s head and his mind wandered back to where it should not.

  Felton’s heart had nearly leapt from his chest when he’d witnessed Georgie plunge helplessly into the Serpentine. Even now, his pulse raced at the thought. Georgie feared water. Hell, she did not even know how to swim. As children, he’d once rescued her from an overturned row boat she’d been floating in at her family’s estate pond. She’d been terrified—he’d been terrified.

  As much as she pestered him back then, always following him around and finding herself in need of rescue, he had cared for her. Still did. He shook the thoughts away for the hundredth time, returning his attention to the other man.

  “Have you received the Duke of Balfour’s consent as of yet?”

  “No.” Perhaps he should pay another call on the duke and see how Georgie fared today. Had she arrived home without further mishap? Had she caught a chill? He took a drink of his brandy, his nerves overset, despite having a full night’s rest. If one could call brooding and tossing and turning restful.

  It was classic Georgie to get herself into trouble. But this time had been different. She’d been venomous. Truly, there was no other word to describe her reaction to him. Why the devil had she behaved in such a way?

  And why the hell did he care?

  She’d been stunning standing at the lake’s edge soaking wet like some kind of water goddess. The way her frock had clung to her curves and how the droplets of water slid across her creamy skin had affected him greatly.

  He’d wanted to kiss her as he’d cradled her in his arms. Wanted to carry her off to the nearest copse of tress and lay her bare as she stood yelling at him. There could be no denying that his little Lady Bug had blossomed into an exquisite woman.

  One his body ached to possess.

  No. Not his—she did not belong to him. He would never have her. Did not want her. She remained as annoying as she ever was. Worse even, for now she possessed a sniper’s tongue. He drained his short stemmed glass and set it on the silver serving tray on his desk.

  All the same, they had been friends. The fact that she seemed to harbor such disdain for him was unsettling. He could not imagine what wrong he’d done the woman. But he’d bloody well like to find out.

  “Mr. Crauford.” His solicitor tapped his finger on the file which lay open on the desk between them. “Are you hearing me? I said you are fast becoming destitute.”

  Perfect. He would be a pauper with a viper-tongued neighbor and no hope for a future.

  “My apologies. I fear my mind is elsewhere this morning.” Felton reached for the file. “Do go on.”

  The solicitor cleared his throat. “As I was saying, the deposit on your father’s property will not last more than a few months at most. It is imperative that you gain rights to another deposit if you wish to continue mining.”

  Bloody hell. He needed to convince the duke. But he had to do so without r
evealing his own weakness—his family deposit running dry. It would never do for the duke to know how desperate he was.

  Perhaps he’d go to the duke and attempt to reach a deal. Persuade him to reconsider. Would he encounter Georgina? A thrill went through him and he closed his eyes against the rising desire. The devil with it! He wished to go for her not the duke and he damn well would.

  “Your financial situation will sustain you another four months once the mine ceases. That is if you wish to continue living as you are.” The solicitor indicated a column on the document before them. “If you cut expenses and adopt a more…sedate lifestyle, your investments will carry you through.”

  Felton closed the file. “You paint a dower picture,” he said, his tone dry.

  The solicitor rose and started toward the door, then paused and turned back. “You could find yourself a rich bride.”

  “Indeed.” Georgie likely came with a substantial dowry. What an absurd idea. He scrubbed his palm over his jaw. He could no more imagine marrying for money than sticking his head into a guillotine. Surely both would be an equal misery. The way Georgie acted of late, the guillotine may be more enjoyable.

  Not that any of that signified.

  Felton brooded the whole way to the duke’s home. His mood only continued to sour when he was shown to the duke’s smoking room without having the opportunity to see Georgie. He settled into the chair the duke indicated and met the man’s gaze. “I have come to hear your decision on the mineral vein.”

  “Then you have wasted your time.”

  Felton flinched. “I am willing to continue negotiations. Does a thirty percent share appeal to you?”

  “Not in the least.” The duke flicked his hand out as if he were shooing an annoying bug.

  “Consider the fact that allowing me to mine would put men from both of our estates to work, giving local men coin to support their families.” Felton smoothed his cravat, hoping the appeal for local people would soften the duke.