Page 77 of One Night with a Prince
Christabel looked thunderstruck. Gavin frowned. Damn it, what idiot had managed to convince her that Haversham possessed a mistress? And what purpose could it possibly have served, except to wound herGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlfeelings?
The servants had returned and were loading several rifles for each of the women. Christabel watched them silently, her face now impossible to read.
“Watch it, Byrne,” Talbot said jovially, “Lady Haversham is eyeing those rifles awfully closely. Hope you didn’t do anything last night to set her off, or she might take Lady Jenner’s suggestion to heart and aim a bit lower.” He punctuated his comment with a vulgar thrust of his hips. Gavin glanced at Christabel, who merely rolled her eyes at Talbot. Hard to believe she was the same woman who’d been so shocked by the man in London. She’d adapted remarkably well, and he couldn’t help admiring that.
He glanced over to find Anna watching him watch Christabel, and he gave the woman a cool nod. If Anna had been in Christabel’s place, forced to masquerade for a cause…
He couldn’t even imagine it. The woman hadn’t had the spine to stand up to her own parents; she would hardly have the spine to embark on a scheme to save them from harm. Even now, she looked extremely uncomfortable with this adventure. But then she’d never been adventurous. Indeed, she’d been rather predictable, fond of gifts and outings and as frivolous as any other young woman at her come-out. Her father had spoiled her, and she was comfortable with that.
If they’d succeeded in marrying, she’d undoubtedly have been miserable within a month. Her father would have disowned her, so Gavin’s early years as a gaming club owner would have been spent struggling to keep it afloat while his wife complained of his late hours and plagued him to spend money on lofty furnishings, a better house, and a barouche to impress her friends. Perhaps Anna had unwittingly done him a favor. He would probably not be where he was now if he’d married her. And he couldn’t have given her the title and status that she’d needed to be happy. Whereas Christabel…
He glanced over to where she was examining the rifles. What if he’d met Christabel all those years ago? What if he’d been the one to leap to her rescue in Gibraltar? A nonsensical notion. He’d never leaped to anyone’s rescue in his life. Still, if he’d met her at an assembly and courted her as he’d courted Anna, he suspectedshe would not have hesitated to hie off to Gretna Green with him, family approval or no. Christabel had an intoxicating tendency to throw herself heart and soul into everything she did. As a man who’d regulated all his actions for most of his life, he found that immensely refreshing, so refreshing that he could almost imagine—
An absurd idea. Christabel had told him she had no desire to subject herself to the rule of another man. He certainly had no desire to subject himself to the whims of a wife. Absolutely not. His companions had now grouped themselves on either side of the ladies. Talbot offered to hand Eleanor her rifles, and Kingsley offered to hand Christabel hers. Stokely dictated the rules. “The beaters will flush the partridges, and I will count down to the start. Talbot will keep track of the birds Lady Jenner fells, and Kingsley will keep track of Lady Haversham’s. Once each has felled three, whoever fired last is the loser, and I shall determine who that is. All right?”
Everyone nodded their agreement. After asking the ladies if they were ready, Stokely ordered theGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlbeaters out to the fields. As the birds broke into flight, Stokely said, “On the count of three…One, two, three—”
The noise was deafening as each woman fired the one shot from her loaded rifle, tossed it aside, then grabbed another and so on until each had fired three times. Even before the smoke cleared, Gavin could tell that Eleanor had fired the last shot. So why was she beaming with triumph as she set down her rifle?
“Lady Haversham finished shooting first,” Stokely declared. “Talbot and Kingsley, what is the count?”
“Lady Jenner took down three partridges,” Talbot announced, gesturing to different points of the field. Kingsley looked uneasy. “Lady Haversham shot down two partridges.”
“And a blackbird,” Christabel added. “That’s three birds in all.”
The dogs were indeed sniffing something in the grass where she pointed. Kingsley went to investigate, then announced cheerily, “It’s a blackbird all right, neatly taken down with one shot.”
Eleanor’s expression turned thunderous. “Blackbirds don’t count,” she snapped. “Only partridges.”
“I beg your pardon,” Christabel retorted, “but the wager was for the first person to fell three birds.”
“Three partridges,” Eleanor countered.
“Sorry, Eleanor,” Lady Hungate put in, “but you did say birds.”
“The men are out here shooting partridges,” Eleanor complained. “So I assumed that we meant partridges.”
“If the point was to determine who was the better shot,” Gavin said, “the point has been made, whether it’s birds or partridges.”
“But we all understood it to be partridges,” Eleanor spat. “And she knows it.” She stalked up to Christabel with her hand outstretched. “You know you lost, so give me that fan.”
“I will not!” Christabel backed away from the woman. “Andyou owe me a hundred pounds.”
Lady Jenner snatched one of the still-loaded rifles from a nearby servant and leveled it on Christabel.
“Give me the fan, you little bitch.”
Gavin’s heart dropped into his belly. “It was just a bloody wager, Eleanor. If you want, we can do another trial and specify partridges—”
Stokely came up behind Eleanor and grabbed her gun, jerking the barrel up in the air. It went off, the ball hurtling up at the massive oak branch above them.
Seconds later, when Eleanor let out a bloodcurdling scream, Gavin realized that the ball had ricocheted off the branch to hit the trunk, then ricocheted back at Eleanor. The others turned just in time to see her lifting her skirts to reveal her left boot ripped open and blood gushing from her ankle. Eleanor took one look at the blood and fainted. Chaos ensued—ladies rushed to her side or lookedGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlfaint, while the gentlemen stamped about chastising Stokely for his precipitous action and belatedly ordering the footmen to empty the other loaded rifles.
“Stand aside!” Christabel ordered, striding over to where Lord Jenner sat in the grass, cradling Eleanor’s head in his lap as the other ladies crowded round. The ladies parted to let her approach. Eleanor was just coming to, but as she saw Christabel loom over her, she cried, “Keep the murderous woman away from me! She tried to kill me!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Christabel snapped as she knelt beside her. “You shot yourself. Now let me see that ankle.”
Eleanor tugged her leg back from Christabel, then let out a yelp at the pain.
