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Cassie stared up at Roland. She dared not move—giving any freedom to her limbs would surely result in her leaning forward and discovering what all the fuss with kissing was about.
His coffee-colored eyes flicked over her, and for a moment the teasing in his expression was replaced by a look she’d never seen on a man. At least, not on a man looking at her.
Then he flashed a grin and leaned closer. She inhaled a sharp breath, but he simply reached behind her, took an arrow from the table, and stepped away.
“Allow me ten shots, Miss Bell,” he said, nocking the arrow on his bow. “You can resume your teasing if I haven’t improved.”
“You may count on it,” Cassie somehow convinced her voice to say. She did not move from where she leaned on the table, not trusting her legs to support her weight.
It took him less than ten shots before he hit the gold center circle. He did not crow in victory but sent her a sly smile and offered a bow as she applauded. They spent the next hour—or two or three, she couldn’t tell by the light—talking as Roland reacquainted himself with his long-neglected archery skills. Just as last night, their conversation ran the gamut in terms of topics, and never was there an awkward moment between them. It was difficult to remember to be Vivian, to respond as she would. Talking with Roland was like stepping into a swift winter wind. It swept her away, twirled her about, and made her head feel light and dizzy.
And like a winter wind, she had no idea where she was headed.
Cassie pushed that thought away, concentrating again on Roland’s laugh, his quick wit and dancing eyes. She simply wanted to enjoy the here and now.
When at last the light outside the windows began to fade slightly, Roland let out a sigh and lowered his bow. “I think that is the most escape we can hope for today. Mother is no doubt wondering where I am, full of lectures about neglecting my guests.”
“I am a guest,” Cassie pointed out. “So you needn’t feel guilty.”
He came back to the table and laid his bow down. “Believe me, guilt is the last emotion I am feeling at the moment.” He said it lightly, but somehow his voice still carried a note of meaning. Cassie’s heart quickened, and she ordered it to calm. He could have meant a million different things.
Roland crossed his arms. “But before we abandon our pleasant sojourn here, I must insist you take a turn.”
“Those words will be etched on your gravestone,” Cassie warned.
He fought a grin. “They will be well worth it if you are as bad as you say. Then at least you can provide the both of us with some entertainment.”
“How can I refuse such an offer when it includes guaranteed mocking?”
“Oh, I do not guarantee it. That depends entirely on your lack of skill.” He picked up a smaller bow. “Here, use this. It was mine when I was a boy, so it will be easier to draw.”
“I suppose I could try,” she said reluctantly as he strung the bow. She didn’t particularly want to make a fool of herself, but archery seemed to make him happy. And for reasons she was not very clear on, she wanted to make Roland happy.
“I have every faith in you.” He held out the bow with a gleam of mischief in his eyes.
“All right.” Cassie took the bow and a few arrows. She moved closer to the target and set the arrows on the ground. He remained at the table, no doubt in fear for his life.
She had used a bow and arrow before, but not often. Neither she nor Vivian had a special fondness for archery, so revealing her lack of skill was thankfully not adding to the deception. Cassie nocked an arrow on the string as she’d watched Roland do, then raised the bow. Drawing the arrow back to her ear, she stared down the length of the smooth wood and aimed at the center of the target.
She released the arrow, and off it flew. That is, until it skittered to the floor not twenty feet away.
“So it wasn’t false modesty.” A laugh hid in Roland’s voice.
Cassie gave an exaggerated huff. “I allowed you ten shots, so I expect the same courtesy.”
“Of course. Unless you wish for my help?”
She’d been bending to fetch another arrow, but she nearly fell over as she spotted him approaching from the corner of her eye.
“No, no,” she said hastily, finding her balance. “No, I will be perfectly fine on my own, thank you.”
He gave her a strange look. “As you wish,” he said, thankfully returning to the table.
Cassie let out a breath of relief as she turned back to the target. Her heart was already a mess, her stomach made of twisting currents. It was best if he stood far, far away.
She raised the bow again, this time pulling back the string farther. She didn’t mind his teasing, not when he took hers so well, but she wanted to impress him all the same. This arrow would make it to the target. Aiming the tip of her arrow, she tried to keep her arms as steady as possible. She relaxed her right hand, preparing to release.
“Roland?”
Cassie’s arm jerked at the voice. She yelped at the same moment that her arrow tore from her fingers—
—and buried itself in the polished wood of the open ballroom door, not inches from Mrs. Hastings’s wide, white eyes.
“Heavens,” the woman gasped, clutching a hand to her heart as she staggered back.
“Mrs. Hastings,” Cassie squeaked, nearly dropping her bow.
Mrs. Hastings stared at her, then her eyes flew to the target on one end of the ballroom.
“Mother, are you all right?” Roland crossed the room, his brow dipped in concern.
Mrs. Hastings waved off her son, her eyes flashing dangerously. “What,” she said, her tone sharp as a cat’s claws, “is happening here?”
Roland cleared his throat. “I thought this might be a diverting way to spend the rainy day,” he said before Cassie could speak. “I set it up, and Miss Bell happened upon me. I invited her to join me.”
Cassie felt as if an evergreen tree had fallen across her chest. She clutched her bow in both hands and focused on breathing. He was taking the blame for her. She tried not to think of the risk to her reputation—to Vivian’s reputation. The two of them alone for hours. Again. What had Cassie been thinking?
“Miss Bell would do well to think twice before accepting such an offer in the future.” Mrs. Hastings’s eyes narrowed. She did not believe them, that much was obvious. But what could she do? She did not like Cassie. She would hardly demand Roland march her down the aisle when there were no other witnesses to their breach in conduct.
“It was only an accident, Mother,” Roland said.
“I am very sorry for the fright I gave you, Mrs. Hastings,” Cassie quickly added.
Mrs. Hastings drew herself up to her full height. “Dinner is soon. I suggest, Miss Bell, you go upstairs to dress, or you’ll be late.”
“O-of course,” Cassie stammered. She nearly scurried out into the corridor before remembering she still held the bow. She turned back. Roland was already stepping forward, arm outstretched to take it from her.
“I am sorry,” he murmured, so his mother could not hear. “I will try to clear this up.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I did not mean to cause any trouble.”
One side of his lips curved up into a wicked grin. “And here I thought you liked a bit of trouble.”
Cassie could not help the tiniest smile in return. He did not seem overly concerned. Perhaps he could set this all to rights. She bobbed a curtsy to both him and Mrs. Hastings and tried not to run as she left the ballroom.