Chapter Fourteen
“We’re shooting pistols in Earl Bolderwood’s backyard?” Jasmine repeated. She took Matthew’s arm and allowed him to lead her through Lord Bolderwood’s manor.
“Yes, it’s something we do as a family.” Matthew grinned at her.
He wore a deep green frock coat, leather boots, and a white cravat so loose that it threatened to fall off. Caroline and Cassandra walked ahead, arm-in-arm in cotton day dresses, while she and Matthew trailed behind.
“Have you ever shot a pistol, Lady Jasmine?” Matthew asked.
“No. I’ve never had the opportunity.”
“It’s so much fun!” Caroline exclaimed.
“Even Caroline knows how?”
“Of course,” Caroline said. “I’m not good at it, but I enjoy it.”
Jasmine asked Cassandra, “Do you know how to shoot?”
Cassandra blushed. “Seth taught me.”
Jasmine was sure he had. Her eyes trailed to Cassandra’s belly—just starting to show—and she smirked. “Good for you, Cassandra.”
Matthew rolled his eyes.
Once outside, Jasmine inhaled the scent of fresh-cut grass.
Damp earth sank lightly beneath her boots with each step.
The sound of gunshots peppered the air. At the far end of the lawn, a group of wooden targets painted with black and white circles were set at varying distances.
Standing in a row, Seth, Lord Blackmoor, and Trevor aimed pistols downrange.
One after the other, they fired their rounds in perfect rhythm.
Pop-pop-pop. Lingering wisps of smoke curled from the ends of the barrels.
Ahead, three blankets lay on the ground, held down by a wicker hamper and shaded by a row of oversized blue parasols. Cassandra and Caroline moved to sit on a blanket. After releasing Matthew’s arm, Jasmine sank to her knees next to them then reached for the hamper.
Inside, she found sandwiches and sweets. She grabbed a lemon curd tart, then took a bite. The crunch of a buttery, flaky crust soothed the sour tang.
Matthew stepped forward and addressed the family.
“Gather around!” he called out. “It’s time to play Take the Crown!”
A hush fell over the family, as if a great decision was being made. Seth and Lord Blackmoor shared a glance. Trevor and Caroline shrugged at each other, tilting their heads and nodding, as if having a full conversation. When no one stepped forward, Matthew chuckled.
“What’s this? I have no challengers?” He spread his arms wide. “Not one of you has been practicing?”
“I have.” Trevor squared his shoulders and swaggered up to Matthew with the confidence of a new adult. “I’ll challenge you, Uncle.”
“That’s a good lad. Let’s see how good a teacher Papa is.” Matthew ruffled Trevor’s hair. “Any other takers?”
“I want to!” Caroline called out.
Lord Blackmoor lifted his hand and nodded.
Seth cracked his knuckles. “Count me in. I could use the practice.”
Matthew turned to Jasmine. With devilish charm, he cooed, “What do you say, future wife? Would you like to play?”
“What’s the game?”
“Three shots, best two out of three,” Caroline explained. “Whoever wins challenges Matthew for the Crown.”
“What is the Crown?” Jasmine asked. “What does the winner get?”
“The right to be called King,” Cassandra drawled.
“Or Queen!” Caroline supplied.
“There’s no point to it,” Cassandra said. “Because Matthew always wins.”
Jasmine glanced at Matthew, who gave her a one-shoulder shrug.
“Even against Seth and Lord Blackmoor?” Jasmine asked.
“Oh, yes,” Caroline chirped. “You’ll see.”
“We’ll see,” Lord Blackmoor said pointedly.
Cupping her hand, Caroline whispered into Jasmine’s ear, “Lord Blackmoor has never beaten Matthew. I bet he’s been practicing.”
“I can hear you.” Lord Blackmoor scowled at Caroline.
The danger of a pistol gave Jasmine pause, but if slight-framed Caroline could do it, so could she. And she was never one to turn down a good time.
Jasmine beamed at Matthew.
“You’ll have to teach me.”
“I will.” Matthew returned her smile. “You’ll be a sharpshooter in no time.”
From his waistcoat pocket, Matthew retrieved a notebook and a small pencil. He jotted down names, placed them in his hat, and then offered the hat to Seth.
Seth pulled out two slips of paper and read out, “Blackmoor and Caroline, you’re first.”
Caroline sauntered up next to Lord Blackmoor. With a gentlemanly roll of his hand, he gestured for her to go first. She lifted a pistol, aimed at a target, squeezed the trigger—
And missed completely.
Lord Blackmoor shook his head. He tapped her elbow and corrected her posture. Caroline shot again and hit the farthest circle from the center. She giggled and thanked Lord Blackmoor, though he made no response.
“Does his face ever move?” Jasmine asked Cassandra.
“Caroline says it does. She thinks she can read his expressions.”
“Can she?”
“Who knows?” Cassandra shrugged. “I judge his emotions by his actions. Adrian scowls and rarely speaks, but he cleared his schedule to be with us today. That says all it needs to.”
Jasmine studied Lord Blackmoor, and her mother’s words came to mind. In high society, every bite of gossip had a dash of truth in it. Before she became the lady of the house, she needed to know every skeleton in the closet.
“Mother thinks Lord Blackmoor fabricated evidence with Matthew’s case,” Jasmine told Cassandra. “That’s why she’s been distant.”
Cassandra’s eyes widened for a moment, then her face fell. “I see… I’m sorry to hear that.”
Jasmine’s brows furrowed. Her friend held secrets close to her heart, but she was incapable of lying to her.
“Cassandra.” Jasmine kept her voice firm. “Did Lord Blackmoor forge a journal to clear Matthew of murder?”
Cassandra was silent for a long while.
“We don’t question Adrian’s methods, but…
I’ve always suspected it.” She spoke in a faraway voice.
“Even if he did, it doesn’t matter. Matthew did what he had to.
He saved my life, and Lord Blackmoor saved his.
” Though she kept herself upright, her shoulders trembled.
“What other choice did they have? That man wasn’t going to stop.
Oh Jasmine, it was horrifying—” Cassandra choked.
Tears collected in the corners of her eyes.
Jasmine rushed forward to clasp her hands. “Cassandra, darling, I’m so sorry.”
“Look at me, I’m nothing but a watering pot these days.” Cassandra dabbed at her eyes. “Today was supposed to be a good day.”
“Today is a good day.” Jasmine waited until Cassandra’s eyes met hers. “I’m having a good day with our family.”
“I don’t want you to think less of us,” Cassandra said. “But if you were to change your mind, I wouldn’t hold any blame against you.”
“I couldn’t possibly,” Jasmine assured her. “Don’t concern yourself, I’m not going anywhere.”
Jasmine looked at Matthew. The wind played with his curls and carried the sound of his laughter. He was happy and alive. And Cassandra was right.
That’s all that matters.
Matthew reached into his hat and read the next two names. “Next we have… Trevor and Lady Jasmine!”
After sharing a comforting glance with Cassandra, Jasmine gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Wish me luck.”
“I won’t bother.” Cassandra shook her head and gave a soft smile. “Have fun.”
Looking forward to doing something new, Jasmine moved to stand next to Trevor.
“Dreadfully sorry, Lady Jasmine, but I won’t go easy on you.” Trevor tipped his hat to her. “It’ll do you no favors if I let you win.”
“I appreciate the honesty,” Jasmine replied, then teased, “I won’t go easy on you either.”
“Come here, Lady Jasmine.” Matthew beckoned her with his fingers. “I’ll teach you how to do it.” His gaze traveled to her gloves. “Give me your hands.”
Jasmine held her hands palms up in the space between them. Her breath caught as his fingers curled around her wrist. One fingertip at a time, he removed her gloves.
“None of these,” Matthew said. “You’ll ruin these dainty things.”
Jasmine gave a mock sigh. “That would be a shame.”
With a laugh, he placed both gloves in his waistcoat pocket. Then, he reached for a brown pistol. A polished steel barrel glinted in the sunlight, and in the middle lay a trigger curved like a scythe.
“First things first.” Matthew pointed at the trigger. “Your finger stays off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. Always assume it’s loaded, and only aim downrange, like this.”
He lifted the pistol, demonstrated proper form, then lowered it to rest at his side. “Now, come stand in front of me.”
She did as instructed and waited for his cue.
He tapped his boot against her heel. “Spread your legs wider.”
Blushing at his words, she meant to retort, but then, his body covered hers from behind.
She froze at his sudden nearness, but then leaned into him.
He placed the pistol in her hands and held his hands over hers, steadying her.
She held something dangerous, while being held by someone dangerous.
As if she were on a cliff, about to dive into the ocean, she took a deep breath.
“I’m ready.”
“Take your time, aim…” he whispered in her ear. “And slowly squeeze the trigger.”
Her finger trembled over the trigger, and gently she squeezed.
An explosion of noise rent the air. So much louder up close. A jolt traveled up her arms. Had it not been for Matthew holding her hands, she might have dropped the pistol. Her ears rang with a high-pitched tone.
“Zounds!” A surprised laugh escaped her, then another.
Eyes twinkling, he gave her an approving nod. “What do you think? How do you feel?”
“Powerful.” Laughter bubbled from her. “I feel powerful!”
“You look powerful.” His voice deepened. “Do it again.”
Her heart raced for another reason entirely, and her gaze traveled to his lips. Drawn to him, she nearly pressed her lips to his. Fighting the impulse, she turned and squinted downrange.
“Did I hit it?”
“No.” He chuckled. “Keep your eyes open next time.”
“Ha-ha.” Jasmine assumed form once more. Mimicking him, she lifted her arms and aimed. “Like this?”
“Just like that.”