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Except, maybe, if Angel agreed to be courted.

Still, there was no going back. He was set on this course now, and he was nothing if not determined. He’d never met anyone like Lady Angel Templeton, and he’d known enough women to understand he would never meet anyone like her again. He had to make her his.

He winced as he drew close, and Aunt Jean shot off an arrow that flew way past the target and landed in the grass. Angel nocked her arrow while he approached.

His aunt gave a broad smile and waved vigorously when she spotted him. “Roo!”

Angel turned, bow and arrow in hand. Her gaze narrowed.

Reuben drew in a breath. His conclusion had to be right. She was angry at him for kissing her and not declaring anything. Or maybe just angry at him for kissing her in general.

“I am nearly ready to leave, Aunt,” he said, his gaze lingering on Angel.

The fresh, slightly chilly air had left her cheeks pink. Or perhaps that was her fury. It was hard to tell. At present, hereckoned she was sending pretend arrows his way with her gaze, and he felt them burrow beneath his skin.

It didn’t stop him wanting her with every painful breath he took, though. Even if she agreed to be courted, time apart was going to be agonizing.

However, as much as he had realized he might not need to take life so seriously, this was one thing he would do right. She was the sister of a marquis and a respectable lady. He’d be damned if he messed this up.

Well, anymore than he apparently already had.

“We will miss you, will we not, Angel?” Aunt Jean gave Angel’s elbow a nudge, and Reuben kept a wary eye on the end of the arrow as it jolted.

“Indeed,” she said tightly.

He swallowed hard. “Aunt, I was wondering if I might have a word with Angel?”

“Oh, of—”

“No.” Angel lifted her bow, the arrow aimed directly at his heart. “I am afraid I am quite busy at the moment, Mr. Hunter.”

He opened his mouth and closed it. He was a Mr. again. What the hell had happened?

“Angel—” he tried once more, but she turned and let the arrow loose. It landed directly on the bull’s eye, but she barely waited a moment before nocking another arrow and aiming it.

His aunt gave a little shrug. Reuben observed Angel for a moment. He could not force the woman to talk to him, especially when she was holding a weapon, but this was far from over. If anything, he at least deserved an explanation as to why she was so furious with him.

“I shall leave you to your archery.” He gave Angel a dip of his head. “But I shall be leaving within the hour. I hope you shall see me off, ladies.”

“Of course, my dear.” His aunt gave his hand a squeeze. “Goodness, how we shall miss you.” She held up a hand before he could give any excuses. “But you are a busy man, I know. And I have the lovely Angel here who looks after me so well.”

Angel ignored them both, letting loose a second arrow that struck nearly as true as the first. He rubbed a hand over his jaw and blew out a breath. He could only hope she decided to bid him farewell. Perhaps he would write her a note and pass it to her and at least be able to explain himself that way. He supposed that was the problem with falling for a woman like Angel.

She was utterly unpredictable.

Reuben headed back to the house as the steady thwack of an arrow hitting its mark faded. A lady like Angel was likely used to suitors bowing and fawning over her. Reuben had never been one of fawn nor bow, but he’d certainly welcome a chance to prove to her that he was genuine in his affections.

He paused by the rear of the house and rested a hand against the weather-worn stone, curving his fingers into the gritty texture. Who did he think he was fooling?Genuine in his affections.He made a face at his reflection in the nearest window. He loved her. That woman had worked her way under his skin and made his blood sing. Even now when she was furious at him. She had turned him around and upside down and made him entirely uncertain of everything, and yet he loved her.

Maybe he even loved her more because of it. His solid plan had been pierced at the tip of her arrows and shattered. But maybe that was no terrible thing. His plans had certainly never won him the heart of a woman before now, and Lady Angel would take more than a simple, curt request to court her to be won over.

Nodding to himself, he straightened and marched into the drawing room. Sitting at the table, he drew out a leaf of paper and began writing.

Dear Angel…

No, that would not do.

Dear beautiful Angel…