Chapter Nine #2
A low and cruel laugh escaped Bishop’s lips, and Seth’s desire to connect his fist to it was on the brink of overpowering.
Blood rushed into his ears, melding with the persistent ringing until the sounds bled together in a single, deafening tone.
Seth repeated the first rule of the contest in his mind: Violence of any kind will be grounds for immediate disqualification.
“You do have an interest.” Bishop smirked. “I have an interest too. Give it a month and she’ll be begging to be my mistress. I wonder how else I can make her beg.”
Seth’s fists formed. He wanted to take that perfect face and mangle it beneath his hands, as he was mangled because of Bishop’s negligence.
“Are you going to strike me, Mr. Reeves?” Bishop taunted, “Please do, so I can have you thrown in jail and be done with you. A hangman’s noose is better than you deserve.”
Five thousand pounds, he reminded himself, a house by a river, an oak tree in the backyard, endless fields, open sky.
But Cassandra’s safety outweighed all of his dreams.
“Another three way tie! No less than to be expected from our country’s finest! Are you ready for a real show? At His Grace’s request, the targets will be moved to three hundred and fifty yards!”
“Shall we make a wager?” Bishop’s tone was unaffected as he loaded his round into the barrel of his rifle. “Whoever makes this shot gets the rights to bed Cassandra Cooper.”
“The other will stay the hell away from her,” Seth added as he took off his gloves and thrust his hand between them. “Deal?”
“Deal,” Bishop spat. He shook Seth’s hand for a second before dropping it.
With targets moved, Mr. Edgars prepared to give his cue.
From his pocket, Seth pulled out a metallic tube.
Hardly larger than his finger, made from a combination of steel, brass, and aluminum metals housing glass lenses that allowed him to peer far into the distance.
A miniature telescope. Experimental, not cheap or easy to craft, but effective, and perhaps the only reason that they were here.
The tool snapped into a slot on the top of the rifle with a click.
He could make the shot without it, but why risk it?
With hands bare, Seth adjusted his view through the glass until it lined up with the center of the target.
Bishop protested as Seth settled his finger on the trigger, and Mr. Edgars blew the whistle a final time.
Seth ignored everything around him, took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and squeezed the trigger.
Bishop cursed and aimed, shooting haphazardly at his target.
With unnecessary force, he set his gun down and ground his teeth together.
A crowd approached and clamored around the contestants as the final targets were brought back for inspection.
Mr. Nott hadn’t hit his target at all, while Bishop’s hit the white border on the edges of the target.
Seth shot through the bullseye, but a half-inch off center.
Berating himself, Seth bit back a curse.
He should have made that dead on. The rush of competition fading, Seth felt the hurt in his shoulder from the earlier uncontrolled kick.
Bishop had gotten to him, but Seth had done better.
I won.
“You cheated,” Bishop growled. A blue vein on his forehead bulged as he struggled to restrain himself.
“No.” Seth shook his head and quoted the rule book. “Rule number six: all accompaniments must be approved of before use. Mr. Edgars approved it at the start of the shoot. I won.”
“Consider the wager forfeit,” Bishop said in a quiet voice that only Seth could hear. “I’ll do whatever the hell I please to Cassandra Cooper, and she’ll let me.”
“Viscount Cooper’s rifle has won this round, but there are three more challenges that await!” Mr. Edgars continued speaking, but Seth couldn’t hear him. In seconds, a thunderous amount of noise surrounded him. A swarm of suits rushed forward to shake his hand and pat him on the back, boxing him in.
“Give the man some space!” Mr. Nott waded through the group until he could extend his hand to Seth.
“Congratulations, Mr. Reeves.” Mr. Nott surprised him by pulling him forward with their clasped hands to pat him on the back with the other.
In a half hug, he murmured, “Next time, keep your personal drama to yourselves.”
Embarrassed, Seth could only nod as Mr. Nott winked at him and cordially stepped to the side.
The crowd parted for Lord Bolderwood and he clamped a thick hand firmly on Seth’s shoulder, knocking him forward.
The bruise from the kick throbbed and his skin crawled, but he kept his face impassive and fought the impulse to shrug off the gesture.
“What a show!” Lord Bolderwood laughed, low and robust, sounding proud. “What did I tell you, Kendall? A man could shoot the feathers off of a hummingbird with a contraption like that!”
A silence descended as Duke Kendall sauntered toward them.
“I’ll give it to you, Bolderwood. Mr. Reeves has far exceeded my expectations. Look at that, a near-perfect shot. Allow me to try out your little invention.” He extended his hand and Seth obediently handed the rifle over.
“Explain how it works to me.”
Cooper jumped into the space between them.
“We’ll be happy to explain it to you, Your Grace! Only…” Cooper looked at Seth before he continued, “the invention is something of a sensitive matter. We can go over the details privately. Perhaps over lunch this afternoon?”
“You can use my study,” Lord Bolderwood offered. He finally released Seth’s shoulder and accompanied Duke Kendall to the range. Cooper trailed closely at their heels.
A fluttering of skirts came next, with their perfumes and high-pitched giggles, a chorus of colors bleeding together. Behind them, away from the crowd, Cassandra stood with her companions. She was smiling as bright as a sunrise. For him.
Not Bishop.
Him.
The world melted, silencing the annoying buzzing in the background. She navigated the crowd until she stood before him. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, pick her up, spin her around—and he had won a bet for the right to bed her. His heart felt like lead with his shame.
Damn it all. Damn Bishop for boxing him into a corner. Damn himself for falling right into his trap. His show only cemented in Bishop’s mind that Seth had an interest, and the Colonel would ensure that Seth didn’t get what he wanted.
Dear God. He made it worse.
“What is it?” Cassandra’s voice was gentle, barely audible over the rising voices all speaking at once. Saying nothing, Seth shook his head and turned from her, finding himself unable to meet her eyes.
“I do believe this man is in shock, let’s go inside and get him a drink!” Lord Dorchester chuckled. “I know I would need one after a challenge like that!”
“You go on ahead, my lord,” Seth said quickly. “I think I’ll take a walk through the gardens instead.”
As tempting as a drink was, he needed solitude and quiet. The noise was overwhelming; the crowd suffocating. His skin itched. His neck cloth was too tight, he couldn’t breathe. Heart hammering in his chest, the feeling of being trapped wrapped around him like a vise.
“Perhaps we will join you.” Lady Dorchester urged Cassandra and Jasmine closer to him.
“We could all go.” A haughty blonde blinked her eyes in a flirtatious manner, sounds of assent coming from her two friends as they all inched closer to him.
No, no, no, no!
“Maybe he would like a moment of reflection? It’s his routine to have some time to himself after shooting.” Cassandra rolled her shoulders in a graceful shrug. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Reeves?”
Lady Dorchester caught Cassandra’s hint and shooed the women away with a closed fan. “Come along ladies. Let’s leave Mr. Reeves to his contemplation. There is plenty to do indoors and we’ve all had far too much sun and excitement for one morning.”
With a grumble, the other ladies turned and followed Lady Dorchester when she walked away, linking her arm with her daughter’s. Cassandra followed a step behind, but she turned her head and, with a hint of a smile, she mouthed the words, “Well done.”
The highest bidder.
Bishop’s disgusting words rolled around like curdled milk in his stomach, but they teased and opened Seth’s mind to another possibility. He returned her smile with one of his own as his goals adjusted.
I could be the highest bidder. Hell, he had beat Bishop and Mr. Nott! And he would do it again. Cooper’s approval wouldn’t be hard to earn, and neither would Cassandra’s if he had the time and resources to woo her properly.
He could marry Cassandra Cooper.
As long as he won.