Page 11 of Daring with a Duke (The Jennings Family #2)

11

Ash

A sh couldn’t believe his eyes. It was luck. It had to be luck. He glanced back at Lady Felicity, and his lungs went on holiday. She grinned at him, a child who had found the cook’s freshly made treacle grin. Her eyes glowed amber-sun bright. Oh, she was very proud of herself. Pride looked beautiful on her.

Not thinking those thoughts, Ash.

“Excellent shot, Lady Felicity,” he said with a polite nod.

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” she said, a saucy lilt in her tone. Her gaze dropped to the pistol, her fingers tracing over the barrel. Then she glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “Some might say, better than a Duke.”

His lips fought valiantly to tug upward. The minx thought to challenge him, did she?

“You believe, after one brief instruction, you can best a man who has been shooting since he was in short pants?”

Her amber irises flashed with devilry. “Only one way to find out.”

“Pistol match!” his daughter shouted, bouncing on her toes.

Lady Felicity turned to his sprightly daughter, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her face. “Precisely what I had in mind, Pandora.”

“I’ll go put fresh bullseyes on the targets!”

Ash opened his mouth, but his daughter was already racing to the targets. They had servants for that. But honestly, his daughter needed to run. She needed to move, be free from restraints. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the world they lived in. Their world was restraint.

A dense weight settled low in his chest, one tied to his lungs, swinging slowly, dragging him down. By granting his daughter such freedom, he also set her on a path toward inevitable failure. Society would tear her to pieces. Feed her to the dogs.

He puffed out his lips on a breath, feeling as though he had deflated into the rain-saturated ground beneath his feet. Now was not the time for wallowing. He would reach out to acquaintances about a new governess for Pandora this week. He glanced at Lady Felicity from the corner of his eye and caught her studying him, her head tilted. As though she found him curious.

A footman approached and gestured to the small stand at the edge of the range. “Three pistols each have been prepared for you and the lady, Your Grace,” he said. “And a light repast awaits whenever it suits you and the ladies.”

Ash nodded and grunted his thanks. Time to distract himself with winning a pistol competition.

“Ready to lose, Your Grace?”

Her smile was back—the small one. The knowing one. The one that made it seem like she held a secret. He wasn’t sure if she was talking about pistols or seduction. But in both cases, he was determined to avoid defeat.

“I hate to disappoint you, Lady Felicity, but I do not see this day as being the day the pupil surpasses the master.”

She walked past him on her way to the stand with the pistols. “I think you may be confused, Duke, about who truly is the master here.”

He tipped his head back on a huff of laughter, and something panged low in his belly at her calling him Duke . She was a brazen one, playful. And he was trying very, very hard not to like that about her.

He wasn’t succeeding.

They lined up at their targets, Pandora hurrying back to join them.

His daughter leaned toward Lady Felicity. “I have every confidence in you, Felicity,” she said in an overloud whisper.

He frowned and shot her a glare that lacked any real heat. His daughter stuck her tongue out at him.

“Sorry, Papa, but my allegiance is with Felicity. She makes hand pies with me.”

His lips pressed in a small curve. That she did. She had made quite the impression on his daughter.

Lady Felicity bumped Pandora jovially with her hip. “Us women must stick together. Never fear, I will show your papa what women are capable of.”

He feared that. Very much.

“We each will take three shots,” he blurted, desperately needing to shoot his pistol. “We will alternate. Ladies first. Each round, whoever is closer to the bullseye will be marked the winner. Best of three, wins.”

A servant handed a pistol to Felicity, and she stepped up to the target. She followed his earlier instruction to the letter. She was a natural with a weapon. Which really shouldn’t surprise him in the least. He had thought he’d seen flashes of a warrior inside the demure young woman. It was clear to him now. At her core, that was who she truly was. Instead of armor of metal and iron, her shield was grace.

The pistol’s deafening bang echoed around them, Lady Felicity’s face set in a grim mask. Determined. Confident. Mesmerizing—

“Another bullseye!” his daughter shouted.

Bloody fuck. His gaze whipped to the target. That was fine. He rolled his shoulders. He hit dead center more often than not.

He took the pistol from a servant, aimed, and fired.

Dead center.

He nearly grinned as he turned to Lady Felicity.

Her gaze fell to his mouth, and her lips twitched. Like she knew he was fighting back a smile.

She cocked her head and rested her hand on her hip. “A tie this round. But I wouldn’t become overconfident, Your Grace. You’re going to have to do that twice more if you want to keep pace with me.”

He lifted the back of his hand to cover the small smile he could no longer hold back. “Your boasts are impressive, my lady.”

Her eyes danced, quite clearly saying I’ve caught you .

There was something about her teasing, the gold flecks glinting in her warm amber eyes, the way the right side of her smile curved up the tiniest bit more than the left, that sent his heart rate skittering like marbles dropped on a tile floor. It shouldn’t be possible on a rare cloudless day in England. But this woman shone brighter than the sun.

God help him, but those eyes might be right. She had caught him.

She lined up for her second shot and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. And winked. “Not as impressive as my pistol skills.”

She pulled the trigger and—another bullseye.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, lining up for his own shot.

“Why thank you, Your Grace. I quite think I’m unbelievable, too.”

He let out a snort of laughter and then zoned in on his target. He drowned out all noise and distraction. Fired.

Close, but not a bullseye.

He turned to catch his daughter skipping around Lady Felicity. “One more, one more, one mooore!” she sang.

Lady Felicity spun in a circle, following Pandora’s bounding form, clapping in rhythm with the girl’s chants. Their revelry, his daughter’s chants, and Lady Felicity’s laughter, shouldn’t be calming, shouldn’t be soothing, but watching the pair eased something deep inside him. A shift. A settling.

He cleared his throat, gaining the ladies’ attention. “Your shot, my lady. Bullseye and you win.”

Her shot cracked through the air, and he leaned forward, gaze glued to the target. One ring outside the bullseye. Still an excellent shot for a novice. But not a winning shot.

He glanced at her and bit his cheek to hold back his laugh. One hand was on her hip, and she glared at the target like she could shoot it with her eyes. The most adorable pout adorned her lips. God, those lips.

Not yours.

“Pistol,” he ordered, palm out, and a servant immediately handed it to him. Her shot had landed wider than his last one. All he needed to do was hit the bullseye and the match was his. He would win and then he could gain a reprieve from her presence.

He stretched his neck from side to side until he felt that satisfying crack. He let a slow breath as he brought his arms up, aligning with target.

He fired.

“Fuck,” he said on a groan. Fortunately, his curse was drowned out by his daughter’s loud cheer. Just outside.

“You won, you won, you woooon!” Pandora grabbed Lady Felicity’s hands, and they twirled in a circle, hopping and laughing.

A grin split Ash’s face, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest as he took in the spirited pair.

Lady Felicity tugged Pandora to her and enveloped the girl in a tight hug.

His daughter looked up at Lady Felicity, nothing short of worship lighting up her youthful face. “Congratulations, Felicity. That was deuced impressive.”

That it was.

Lady Felicity turned toward Ash, her face alight with an ear-to-ear smile. Their gazes collided, and her lips faltered. Her stare dipped, locked onto his grin. Her lips parted softly, and as far away as he was, he swore he heard that small intake of breath.

Her eyes flicked back to his, and her amber irises no longer danced, no longer glittered—they swam. Swam with something heady and intoxicating, something consuming.

And he didn’t even try to resist, he let her consume him. Curse his bloody heart—it jolted harder than the recoil of a pistol.

Ash silently stole looks at Lady Felicity as he ate the meat pie Cook had prepared for dinner. A dinner they had sat down to later than usual because target practice had gone longer than anticipated. Despite the dining hall’s trio of enormous windows that spanned the entire height of the castle, the room was dimly lit as sunset approached, a soft warm glow emanating from the massive chandeliers overhead and candelabras lining the stone walls.

She wore a stunning emerald silk gown, and this one appeared to fit her bosom. Though it still did wonderful things to it. His fingers tightened around his wineglass. Bloody hell. It clung to her figure as desperately as his hands yearned to. The fit and the color combined with her amber hair and eyes had Ash tripping over his tongue when he’d greeted her for dinner. Thank fuck he was known as a man of few words, because he hadn’t been capable of any.

Another thing that had him tongue-tied—his daughter had shown up to dinner in a dress as well. His daughter . He couldn’t remember the last time Pandora had donned a dress. Apparently, the two ladies had gotten ready for dinner together.

His daughter had looked so grown up and had been distinctly proud of herself when she’d curtsied her greeting to him before dinner. Somehow, Lady Felicity was helping his daughter learn the ways of being a lady with Pandora enjoying it at the same time. And why was that? Because there was a woman around. A role model. Someone Ash had failed to provide for his daughter.

The women were recounting the target practice, and he bit back a smile as Pandora nearly upended her water while she mimed holding a rifle.

“I cannot wait for my birthday and for you to completely surprise my brothers with your shooting skills,” Pandora said. “I cannot believe you hit the bullseye multiple times your first time out.”

And what a shock that had been. Lady Felicity took to shooting pistols like she was born for it. At first, Ash had been taken aback. He would have wagered every unentailed property he owned that Lady Felicity would use the helpless, teach-me angle for her seduction advantage. But he’d only ended up with one glorious chance to be wrapped around her warm, slight body.

It was pathetic how much he had been looking forward to feeling her body press back into his on the force of the gun’s recoil. He hadn’t even been allowed that. Because she’d shoved him away and lined herself up like an expert marksman. And struck the target dead-center.

Instead of dainty and helpless, she had been formidable and fearless. And fuck him because that had been a very successful seduction maneuver. Which was infuriating, considering she hadn’t even been trying to seduce him. Yet here she was succeeding. How was he supposed to resist her if he fell under her spell when she wasn’t even casting it? How pathetic was he?

Oh, right. Extremely pathetic. The most pathetic.

He was a lobcock because he’d been so hopelessly disappointed at being deprived of more opportunities to have her in his arms that he’d offered to bring out the rifles, something even Pandora hadn’t had the chance to try shooting yet. Just because he was desperate to use an excuse to show her the proper form in order to get close to her again. Apparently, he loved torturing himself.

Mmm, pain, you are a persistent chap.

“I surprised myself as much as you, Pandora. I wasn’t expecting to best the Duke.” Lady Felicity sent a teasing smile his way as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “I cannot deny I am highly competitive.”

Yes, he had picked up on that little trait of hers. Brazen and beautiful. And for a brief moment when their eyes had caught and held…bewitching. Dangerously so. Hence why he needed to do something—and quickly—to create space, so he would stop being a clodpole who came up with ways to have her in his arms.

He dipped his chin in solemn acknowledgment. “Your accuracy would have rivaled a rifleman’s. Perhaps you will be able to use your newfound skills to keep my son in line.”

Her eyes dimmed, and he told himself that was a good thing. A reminder for them both. Avoiding her wasn’t working, so it was time for a new battle strategy. He would bring up his son at every turn and at the same time make himself so unappealing she wouldn’t be able to bear the thought of sleeping with him.

If he did that…well then, he wouldn’t be faced with temptation wagging itself in his face so often. Perhaps she would give up altogether and realize marrying Colborn was, in fact, a good idea.

He gritted his teeth. That would be great. That was exactly what he wanted. He did not want his son’s fiancé to pursue him. Did not.

Ash, you are a horrible human being.

And that was the ugly truth, wasn’t it? It was why, even if she wasn’t betrothed to his son, even if she wasn’t much too young, he could never allow himself to be with her. Because he was starting to feel things, things that might lead to happiness, things he didn’t deserve.

He was a piss-poor father and had been a piss-poor husband. His daughter was going to flounder in society because he hadn’t adequately prepared her. He had barely been present in his sons’ lives. He lusted after his own son’s fiancé, for bloody fuck’s sake.

But worst of all?

He had killed his wife.