Page 12 of The Perfect Rose

She shook her head as she placed her hands on his shoulders. His head spun to look at her. His bright green eyes were captivating, questioning, confused. She gave him a small smile. “Do you find my help so offensive?”

He swallowed and she realized she’d failed to put up a shield against him. She’d not been trained on how to react when a gentleman looked at you in a way that made you want to squirm. Squirming was very unladylike after all. He could run her through with a stray word at the moment, let alone the arrow he wielded. Why had she decided to teach him?

“You are not offensive, Lady Rose,” he whispered.

His eyes bore into her own as she felt a blush creep up her neck and heat her cheeks. “Then it must be a dragon thing,” she muttered.

He lost his form completely and doubled over laughing, breaking the tension that had hung thick as molasses between them. Goodness, the man had a contagious laugh. She chuckled behind her hand.

The duke laughed from a few paces away as well. “You’d best straighten up, and fast, if you want her to teach you.”

Mr. Hastings wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and took up his stance once again, this time smiling widely. Rose approached him more tentatively. She set her hands on his shoulders and shifted him back just a bit. “Can you feel that?”

He cleared his throat. “You’ll have to be more specific, my lady.”

“Your weight, can you feel the shift of balance? You were out front just a bit. Try again.” She stepped back from him and was satisfied with his form. As he released, she took a deep breath. His arrow found the mark.

He turned to her with wide eyes. “Thank you.” He bowed.

Well, that is not a reaction I get every day. “You’re welcome, Mr. Hastings.” He may very well have been the first gentleman she’d met that had taken any instruction from her seriously and thanked her for it.

He looked up at her with mischievous eyes. “Can we make Samuel’s target worth twice the points?”

She shook her head. “Good try, but I’m already planning an exquisite wardrobe for you this evening, sir.” She turned to the duke. “So, where is your target?”

His Grace bowed low. “I believe you are the clear winner. Perhaps I’ll give you my own target at another date. As of now, I would like to go shoot a few of my own arrows. And if I’m missing my mark, I’ll come to you for some advice.” He nodded once to her before he strode off toward Miriam.

She felt Mr. Hastings’s presence before she saw him. “Do you care to keep shooting, sir?”

He chuckled lightly. “I think I owe Miss Trenton a lesson. And I do have my pride to bandage as well.” He winked at her as he made his way toward the young Miss Trenton.

Rose looked Miss Trenton over as Mr. Hastings talked to her. The girl was quite charming with her blue muslin gown and matching hair ribbon. Miss Trenton and Miriam had rarely been separated throughout their time at the house party. Suddenly, Rose found it extremely vexing to think that Miss Trenton likely knew Mr. Hastings far better than she did. Why? She could not say. But she entirely disliked watching Mr. Hastings walk with the girl. She blew out a tense breath.

“Lady Rose,” Mr. Owen Redford called to her. She tore her eyes away from the head of golden hair she’d been watching and looked at the youngest Redford gentleman. “I would appreciate your coaching, miss. Can you come correct my stance?”

She spun to look at him. “Of course. Let’s see then.”

He pulled his string back without an arrow attached, an innocent smile on his pale face.

Rose dipped her head and looked up through her eyelashes at the man. “An arrow would be a good place to start, sir.”

Mr. Redford chuckled and took another two steps toward her. “That would be helpful, wouldn’t it.” He pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and took up his stance once again.

She took a step back. “This would be when you nock your arrow, Mr. Redford.” She tried to put her finger on just what was different with his demeanor. Nothing blatant stood out.

He obediently rapped his knuckles on the shaft of an arrow, all seriousness written in the lines of his forehead.

Rose giggled.

Mr. Redford tilted his head in question. “Was that not how you do it?”

Oh no, how had Rose not seen it before? Mr. Owen Redford had some innocent peculiarities in his personality. She’d never spoken with him one-on-one until now. He’d been so quiet. She’d seen similar peculiarities before, and the last thing she wanted to do was make him uncomfortable. “No, that was quite well done. I just wasn’t expecting it. You see, in archery, to nock one’s arrow means to place it next to the bow.” She smiled as she helped him maneuver the back end of his arrow to the string and then she swung the arrow to hit the wooden bow. A small knock sounded when it hit.

His eyes lit. “Oh, how silly of me. But it does sound like knocking.”

“Yes, it does.” Rose decided she liked Mr. Owen Redford. He was refreshingly honest and perhaps a little childlike. She spent the next quarter of an hour instructing him in some of the finer points of archery. He never called any undue attention to the pair of them, for which Rose was thankful. She had a small headache forming at the base of her neck. Perhaps her hair had been pinned too tightly in the back.

Rose thanked Mr. Redford for being her partner and excused herself. Once she’d made it to her room, Rose had but removed her shoes and pulled out a few hairpins when her door flew open.