He stepped behind her, his chest inches from her back. He reached around, his large hands steadying hers. The air between them suddenly felt thicker than the summer humidity.
Arthur straightened, his curiosity piqued. "Freedom? Most ladies of the ton are content with embroidery and gossip."
"Hardly," Penelope laughed, turning in his arms. The wit that usually protected her failed as she looked up at him. "Perhaps the Duke of Ashbourne is good for something other than scowling at garden parties." Download File A Shot at the Duke_ A Witty His -...
"You're gripping the riser too tightly, Lady Penelope," a deep voice drawled.
"Beginner's luck," Arthur teased, though his hand lingered on her arm a second too long. He stepped behind her, his chest inches from her back
Lady Penelope Thorne was not looking for a husband, but she was looking for a target.
"I am not poaching," she snapped, retrieving her arrow. "I am practicing for the Midsummer Tournament. My father’s honor—and my own freedom—depends on it." Arthur straightened, his curiosity piqued
Penelope looked at the target, then back at the man who had finally made her heart race faster than a hunt. "I suppose that depends on who is doing the seeking." If you'd like to continue the tale, let me know: Should the happen next? Does Lord Ponsonby try to sabotage her?