"You're gripping the riser too tightly, Lady Penelope," a deep voice drawled.
"And you shouldn't be poaching my deer," Arthur replied, stepping into the light with a smirk that didn't quite reach his guarded eyes. Download File A Shot at the Duke_ A Witty His -...
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? "You're gripping the riser too tightly, Lady Penelope,"
"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." "I suppose that depends on who is doing the seeking
"I am not 'most ladies,'" Penelope said, notches her arrow. "If I win, my father stops trying to marry me off to Lord Ponsonby, a man who has the personality of damp wool."
"Beginner's luck," Arthur teased, though his hand lingered on her arm a second too long.
"I have my moments," Arthur said softly. "But if you win that tournament, you'll be the most sought-after woman in England. Is that truly the 'freedom' you want?"