by Dayna Quince
He cocked his head to the side. “Perhaps.”
“And what excuse did you give?”
“I told them I needed to speak with my father. He’s in the library, I think. I really have no idea.”
“Well, you better hurry back before anyone has noticed you’ve disappeared directly after me.”
He moved closer. “Don’t worry. No one will suspect I’ve plans to seduce you. Not yet, anyway, but soon, perhaps.”
Maddie knew she should back away and put a respectable distance between them, but everything inside her was perfectly content to waver in that delicate space between separation and touch. She could practically feel the warmth of his body.
“But soon?” She didn’t mean for it to sound like a question. It wasn’t as if she needed a detailed schedule. Soon had never sounded better to her ears as it did right now. A flutter of anticipation filled her abdomen. She tried to shake herself from this foggy daze and focus. She didn’t know how long they had been standing there staring at each other, but it was surely too long now.
“Be that as it may,” she swallowed, “it won’t be tonight.”
The corners of his lips curved just slightly. “No. But I wanted to be sure you weren’t hurt by their callous behavior.”
“No. I never let them hurt me.”
He lost his smile and frowned. “Are you sure? Miss Cecelia was…well, to be honest, a bitch.”
Maddie gasped. “Don’t say that. That is mean.”
“She is mean.”
“Yes, but we don’t have to be.”
“She insulted you repeatedly, and you take issue with my adequate judgment of her character?”
“Yes. She can say whatever she wants, but that will never make it true. If I’ve learned anything over the years of being Mad Maddie, it’s that it never feels good to be mean, but it feels wonderful to be kind. I pity her. She can try to wound me, but she only wounds herself.”
“She didn’t look wounded in the least,” he said sourly.
“She did when you rebuked her.”
“You’re a better person than I, Maddie.”
Maddie smiled jubilantly. She loved the way he said her name just now, so friendly and comfortable. “Thank you.”
“Don’t look so pleased. Tis an easy feat. My morals are extremely questionable.”
Maddie laughed softly. “It’s a compliment all the same.”
They were both silent for a moment. She watched him as his eyes examined her face. She felt studied like an object, but in a good way.
“This is where we part ways,” she said quietly.
He sighed. “Yes.”
“Till tomorrow.”
He brightened. “Yes. There will be more courting tomorrow.”
“But also the arrival of Lord Berett.”
“I love a challenge.” He grinned wolfishly.
Maddie felt an answering warmth spread through her all the way to her toes. It was definitely time she take herself off to her room, or she might do something reckless.
“Goodnight, Lord Rigsby.” She stepped back.
“I think in light of the circumstances, our given names can be used when we’re alone.”
“I’ll try to remember that tomorrow.” She turned away slowly, reluctant to part from him.
“Goodnight, Maddie.”
She couldn’t resist saying his name. “Goodnight, Jonathan.”
They both turned way, he down the stairs and she up another level. She loved the feel of his name on her tongue. It felt like an intimate caress, like a kiss all by itself. Her dreams were destined to be sweet tonight if she fell asleep with his name on her lips.
* * *
Jonathan returned to the drawing room glumly. He didn’t want to, but he should be seen before claiming his own bed. His dance with Maddie had been noticed by everyone, just as he thought it would be. Now it was time to lay a foundation of a respectable courtship, not a scandal. As much as he wanted to follow her to her room and taste those sweet lips, or at least find the comfort of his own bed, he had to present himself here and make a show of enjoying the evening without Maddie’s presence.
His father and mother were seated to the side of the room. Jonathan avoided the throng of guests waiting for the next set to begin. He had no plans to dance with anyone else tonight.
He took a brandy offered by a footman and merged into a group of acquaintances.
“Good of you to join us, Rigsby,” Mr. Banks said. “I should warn you. Daggers are being shot at your back.”
Jonathan looked behind him to see that the daggers belonged to Miss Cecilia. He turned back to Banks. “She’ll have forgotten she’s cross with me by morning.”
“How do you plan to make amends?”
“I don’t. I don’t give a fig what that brainless twit thinks.”
“Careful,” Banks warned.
“My apologies if you’ve interest there, but her behavior this evening toward another guest was very unbecoming of her.”
Banks grimaced. “I wouldn’t go that far, but Davey may tattle to his fiancé. Lady Worthington has ears everywhere. She won’t forgive you for insulting her daughter.”
“She will when she remembers how much I’ll inherit.”
Banks chuckled. “That’s probably true.”
“Are you going to participate in the events tomorrow?”
“Events?” Banks asked.
“I believe there will be an archery tournament for the ladies, separate from the grand tournament of which only the men can participate.”
“I haven’t the skill. I will be relegated to spectator.”
“Lady Worthington will insist you participate in one of the events, at the very least?”
Banks grimaced. “What sort of events are these?”
“I’ve forgotten that this is your first time attending, forgive me. Tomorrow begins the grand tournament. The male guests will compete in archery, sword and cudgel fighting, ax throwing and jousting. In between will be milder past times for the women to participate in. This year, Lady Worthington has added a miniature archery tournament for the ladies. I hear Miss Cecelia has become somewhat exemplary in the skill. A gentleman can either win in one activity or best all and claim tournament champion.”
“I can’t say I’ve done any of those things,” Banks admitted.
“Perhaps, but tis better to try. Most gentlemen try and fail gracefully. It’s more about the entertainment value than it is about our skill.”
“Well, when put that way, I suppose it could be interesting.”
“I promise you, besting Davey with a cudgel is so much more than interesting.”
Banks chuckled. “That I would love to see.”
Jonathan lingered in the drawing room a bit longer before finding his room. He was weary now. He hadn’t realized how hostile it was to be in Maddie’s position. It would make their courtship difficult, but more than that, it made Jonathan angrier than a gelded bull. Even her own father was a boor. He didn’t know how she accepted such abuse with so much grace. The more he learned about her, the more intriguing she became.
Chapter 4
When Maddie woke, her first thought was of the bow she had tucked under her bed. This summer was the first Lady Worthington would allow the ladies to participate in their own tournament. Her second thought was of Lord Rigsby and the way they had parted last evening. She leaped from her bed with excitement and began her morning ritual. After her basin bath, she dressed in a hunter green muslin dress and sat to dress her hair. Fresh water had been brought, but Lady Worthington hadn’t bothered to assign her a maid to aid her toilet, and her father had dismissed hers after she had failed her first season.
It didn’t matter, Maddie supposed. She could dress her own hair just fine. She even enjoyed it. She took two sections of hair and braided them, coiled the rest into a bun, and then encircled the bun with the braids. She pinned everything in place and loosened strands from her temples to hang playfully. Using her hand mirror
, she inspected her work and smiled in satisfaction.
She made her way to the back terrace where Lady Worthington had set up a breakfast buffet. The day was rare in its beauty, the sky blue and the clouds white and fluffy like whipped cream. She didn’t see Lord Rigsby at any of the tables, so she made a plate for herself and found a seat away from the others. She focused on the small mountain of food before her, savoring the wafting aroma of bacon and sausage. She wasted no time digging into her food. Nodding in thanks as a footman poured her tea, she continued to ignore the other guests, and simply enjoyed her solitude dining. The gentle talk of the others around her was almost soothing, like the chirping of birds.
Optimism filled her. There was no possibility this day could be bad when it began this lovely. She noted where her father sat and took heart in the absence of Lord Berett. He hadn’t arrived yet. Perhaps he was waylaid? If only she could be so fortunate.
Her whole body seemed to come awake when Lord Rigsby appeared. He greeted first his mother and father, then their hostess. Next, he made his way to the buffet. Maddie watched slyly as he piled his plate high with food. She wondered if he would sit with her, or if that would appear too forward?
“May I sit here, Miss Prescott?”
Maddie jerked in surprise and looked up. Mr. Banks smiled pleasantly down at her.
“Of course,” she replied.
He set his plate down and took his seat. Maddie tried to turn her attention back to her own food but was completely befuddled by the man’s presence.
“Will you participate in the archery this morning?” he asked.
“Um...yes, actually.”
“I confess I’m nervous to take part in the tournament,” he said as he cut his sausage into bite size pieces.
“At least you will have more to do in the coming days. The ladies have only been spectators thus far. I’d much rather do than watch.”
“You’d joust on a horse, Miss Prescott? Or swing a broadsword?”
“Oh, yes. It looks like so much fun!”
Mr. Banks remained silent as he chewed and swallowed. “I suppose it does, doesn’t it?”
“On what other occasion can you attack a fellow guest with a weapon?”
Mr. Banks erupted in laughter.
Maddie was taken aback. All eyes turned to them, but none of them stole her attention as much as Lord Rigsby did. He sauntered over with his heavily laden plate and sat on Maddie’s other side. She felt heat spread over her skin from head to toe and hoped she wasn’t blushing.
“Good morning, Lord Rigsby.”
“Good morning, Miss Prescott, Mr. Banks. It looks as though we will be blessed with excellent weather for the start of the tournament.”
“Indeed, we shall.” She forced herself to stop gawking at him and look down at her plate. She wasn’t nearly done eating, but her stomach fluttered uncomfortably now.
“Why a medieval theme? Why not Egyptian or Roman?” Mr. Banks asked.
“Lord Worthington is an enthusiast. He claims to be a descendant of a king,” Rigsby answered.
“I think a Greek theme would be exciting,” Maddie said.
“Yes, but the gentlemen wouldn’t enjoy running amuck in leather skirts.”
“They fought nude as well,” Maddie added.
The gentlemen went silent. Maddie bit her lip. She always found a way to ruin polite conversation with inappropriate facts.
“Careful, Miss Prescott. You’ll scare Banks away.” Lord Rigsby smiled crookedly at her.
“Please, forgive me, Mr. Banks. Facts escape me before I can remember not to utter them.”
“It’s quite all right, Miss Prescott. I find intelligence very becoming on a woman.”
“Intelligence is very becoming on a man, as well,” Maddie said with relief.
Banks smiled at her. She returned his smile and then turned back to her food. A footman took their plates after they had finished and they stood.
“If you will excuse me. I must collect my bow so I may practice.”
“You’ve brought your own bow?” Banks asked.
“Oh yes. I made it myself.” Maddie nodded.
“Permit me to watch you practice, Miss Prescott?” Lord Rigsby asked.
Maddie cocked her head to the side. “I can hardly forbid you, Lord Rigsby, but yes, I would be pleased to have an audience.”
“Then I shall happily join, as well,” Mr. Banks stated.
Maddie saw Lord Rigsby narrow his eyes slightly at Mr. Banks. Having no idea what to make of it, she returned to her room to fetch her bow. She hurried back to the lawn where there were a canopy and a makeshift archery range. She was pleased to see quite a few ladies had opted to participate. This was the first year they were able to do more than spectate, and Maddie had feared no one other than she would have an interest. Tables and chairs had been set under the canopy as well as refreshments.
“Good morning,” she greeted cheerily.
She received several silted replies. Miss Cecelia had a crowd of young ladies around her as she displayed her bow for them. She had a smart looking archery costume that Maddie remembered seeing in the last issue of La Belle. She didn’t understand why one needed an entire dress for archery, but Miss Cecelia did look very becoming in it. As for Maddie, she only used a leather vambrace and glove, but neither were strictly necessary. She liked the look of them because they made her feel like a warrior.
She did not see Lord Rigsby or Mr. Banks among the crowd, which was a little bit of relief. She wasn’t used to such attention. She hadn’t shot a bow before with anyone watching except the stable boy. She took a place at the furthest spot set up for an archer and began to stretch her fingers. She picked up an arrow and examined it. Satisfied with the quality, she exhaled slowly, raising her bow and arrow. Focusing on the target, she took a deep breath, and as she exhaled slowly, let go.
The arrow zipped through the air, landing with a solid thunk.
Everyone turned to look. Maddie smiled triumphantly at the target.
“Well done,” Lord Rigsby said behind her.
Maddie hid her surprise and pivoted to face him. “Thank you, my lord. I did not see you arrive.”
“I arrived just in time to see you sink that excellent shot.”
“Well, I’m not sure it was excellent. I’m happy to have hit the target at all.”
Lord Rigsby raised his brow and looked at the target. It was a perfect bullseye. Maddie knew it. But now that he was here, and in her periphery, she could see everyone watching them, her nerves got the best of her.
“Beginners luck.” She smiled nervously.
Miss Cecelia came forward. “What an unusual bow.” She took it from Maddie’s hand and examined it. “Tis nothing but wood!”
“I made it myself.”
Miss Cecelia blinked at her. “Why on earth would you do that?”
“I wanted to.” Maddie shrugged.
Miss Cecelia continued to blink owlishly at her.
“Your archery costume is lovely,” Maddie changed the subject.
“Why thank you, Miss Prescott. I am so in love with it.” She handed Maddie her bow and did a small twirl. The other ladies present applauded, and the gentlemen murmured compliments. “It matches my custom Hearthford and Hamm bow. See?” She took her bow from the footman and displayed it to Maddie. “The hunter green stripe here and my dress match perfectly.”
“Lovely.” Maddie nodded. This whole situation was very odd. Miss Cecelia was almost acting nice to her. Perhaps they shared a love of archery?
“I see you have exceptional skill. From who did you receive training?” Miss Cecelia asked
“My governess taught me years ago, and I’ve continued to study the sport on my own.”
“Oh?” Miss Cecelia looked back at the target and then again at Maddie. “Natural skill then.”
“I suppose. But really, I practice a great deal.”
“I see.” Miss Cecelia smiled and nodded at the same time. “If you will excuse me
, I remembered something I must do before my practice.”
“Of course.”
Maddie was puzzled as Miss Cecelia marched off with a trail of her followers. Others had begun to practice, and Maddie was grateful she was no longer the center of attention.
“I’m not sure what to make of that scene she put on. I’ll guard your back whenever she has a bow in hand,” Rigsby quipped.
Maddie rolled her eyes and picked up another arrow. “I’m not inclined to worry about women like her.”
“No?”
“No.”
He was silent as she raised her arm and aimed. She inhaled and then exhaled slowly, releasing. There was a cheer as she sunk another arrow in the bullseye. Maddie looked down as she blushed furiously. Beside her, Rigsby clapped. She wasn’t used to others paying attention to her, let alone cheering for her. She found it strange that it made her feel both anxious and happy.
She tried to not look affected. She caught the cold glares of some of the other participants, and that set her to rights. They were not pleased by her skill. That only made her more determined. They got to dance, they got invited to play parlor games, and they excluded her from their reverie. Now they would have to watch her trump them all.
She was serious again as she picked up another arrow and raised her bow. She imagined herself alone in a field. Her only audience the quail in the grass—no, Jonathan was there too, watching, waiting. She could feel his confidence in her. She exhaled, closing her eyes as she absorbed the feeling, and let go of the string. The arrow whistled through the air and struck true. Maddie smiled. She turned to face Jonathan, and he was smiling, too.
“I think that’s enough practice.”
“I think so, too.”
“Would you care for a walk before the tournament starts?”
“Yes, I would.” She handed her bow off to a waiting footman and took Jonathan’s offered arm. They walked toward the house and around the side until they were out of view. Then they strolled down the path to the summerhouse.
“I did not see Mr. Banks there.”
“No. He remembered something urgent he had to tend to, unfortunately.”
