A Porcelain Viscountess by Hazel Linwood
Chapter 16
“Pull,” Francis said, watching on as Lady Ridlington and Louisa practiced with the pistols. Both fired at the same time, though Lady Ridlington recoiled from her pistol as it shot, making the bullet fly off in not quite the desired direction. “Woah! Well…” Francis moved to her side and took the pistol out of her hands. “I’m glad I told my gardeners not to work in the garden today.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said hurriedly, looking around the trees for where the bullet might have gone. He laughed off her apology, showing how much, he did not need it.
He had brought Lady Ridlington and Louisa into the garden and set up a target against one of the trees in order to teach them to practice shooting. Their improvement already was good, after a nearly an hour of instruction, though both of them had very different reactions to the weapons. Louisa was proving herself quite an accurate shot, though she looked down at the weapon every few minutes with something akin to horror, clearly in disbelief she was carrying the gun. Lady Ridlington could not take to the weapon at all!
“Believe me, it can take years to master this weapon,” Francis said reassuringly as he reloaded the gun. “There is nothing to apologize for,” he said softly, watching as her face flickered into the smallest of smiles.
His heart was warmed by seeing it. He had already known he would go a long way in order to see her smile. He was beginning to realize that he would do almost anything now to see it. “The first time I practiced shooting, one of the house dogs ran in the way. Fortunately, he was not injured, but I cannot tell you how frightened I was that I might have caused him harm.”
“Thank god you do not have any dogs,” Lady Ridlington said, casting her eyes up to the sky. “If they ran in the way I am not sure I would have enough control of the weapon to ensure they were safe.”
“You are getting better.”
“Am I?” she asked suspiciously with raised eyebrows. “Or are you simply being kind to me?”
“Would I do that?” he asked in jest as he passed her the weapon back.
“You would,” she said emphatically. “You’re the kindest man I know, so I do not doubt you would say anything to make me feel better.” The words made him stand a little taller, a stolen moment together whilst they were practicing with the weapons.
“Well, I like to make you feel better,” he said, walking past her. He couldn’t resist her, as he went by, he trailed a hand along her arm. It was brief, yet just as tantalizing, feeling the way it sent a tingle up his arm of excitement. He could see her bend her head a little down to the weapon, trying to hide the blush that crept across her cheeks because of his touch.
“Is this right?” Louisa asked him, trying to load the weapon.
“Nearly, here, like this.” He took the weapon from her, showing her how to do it, then removed the shot and allowed her to try herself. “Try now, you’ll get it.” Once she had done it successfully, she bobbed on her toes, excited with the movement. It made him chuckle under his breath as he took a step back. “I do not think I have ever seen the two of you so happy.”
“I am not sure I have ever been so,” Louisa said as she lifted the weapon and pointed it at the target up ahead. “If I had been taught how to do this sooner, it might have saved me a lot of pain. Can I shoot?”
“Fire,” he said, watching as she fired the weapon. She was quite close to the bullseye, making her yelp with delight and jump up and down with the weapon in her hands.
Francis couldn’t put a finger on the emotion he was feeling as he watched her learn. It was something about the words she had said, the idea that before she had been unable to protect herself. At least now, she had a fighting chance. He turned his eyes on Lady Ridlington instead, who was staring down at her weapon, trying to get a better hold of the weapon.
“Struggling?” he asked, moving up to her side. He longed to hear the words from her lips that Louisa had said. She looked up from the weapon as he moved to stand beside her, earning her gaze.
“A lot!” she said, sighing for dramatic effect. “It is no good, I do not think I will get the hang of the weapon.”
“You just need more practice. Now, take up the weapon again.” He moved closer to her. She looked up, her eyes wide at seeing him so close, but then she lifted the weapon, pointing it toward the target. “Wait one second…” He made her pause as he lifted a hand and rearranged her grasp on the pistol. He could feel her fingers warm beneath his touch, then her arm trembled, making him hesitate and look to her. “Cold?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered softly.
“You shivered,” he said with a small smile as he lowered his voice, so that Louisa couldn’t hear them as she busily reloaded her weapon.
“I trembled,” she whispered just as quietly.
“Why?” he asked, with a knowing smile.
“Take your hand off mine and I will stop trembling,” she said, averting her eyes from his though she smiled still.
“Please tell me it is good trembling,” he pleaded, earning her gaze at last.
“You know it is,” she said softly. He chuckled and released her hand then walked around her.
“Lift the weapon and point it at the target.” At his words, she did as he suggested, facing the target with the weapon raised in both hands. “I see your problem. You’re not standing properly to absorb the recoil.”
“I’m not?” she asked, not moving out of her position.
“Here,” he said softly, stepping closer to her back. “Relax your shoulders a little.” He placed both hands on her shoulders, urging her to soften them. She relaxed under his touch. “Now, bend your elbows a little.” She did as he instructed. “Breathe deeply, relax your body, and don’t panic…”
“I have a gun in my hand, if I ever wish to use this for real someday, I have a feeling I will be panicking,” she said hurriedly, pulling a smile from him.
“Well, let’s pray you never have to. For now, relax,” he pleaded, watching as she breathed deeply with his hands still gently placed on her shoulders. “Then fire.”
She pulled the trigger. Her arms bent to absorb the recoil this time, but it was still so sudden that she backed up a little, further into Francis’ arms. He didn’t step away. He just lowered his hands, placing them on her lower back and holding her safely against him.
I’ll keep you safe, my Lady.
Lady Ridlington looked up at him in surprise, not stepping away, but her cheeks were blushing once again.
“My Lady, you weren’t so far off the target that time,” Louisa said, pointing toward where the bullet had lodged in a tree. The words seemed to bring both of them to their senses. Lady Ridlington stepped away from him at the same time he did her, though she still kept her head down, clearly trying to hide her blush.
“I still cannot hit the target though,” Lady Ridlington said, moving toward her maid’s side. “Louisa, you are certainly the finer shot of the two of us.”
“It’s a long time since I’ve been called good at anything,” Louisa said excitedly. “Can I shoot again?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder toward Francis.
“By all means,” he said, gesturing toward the target. She fired another time and the bullet whole appeared very close to the center of the target.
“That’s incredible!” Lady Ridlington said, lowering her weapon down by her side as she looked at the target. “I envy you, Louisa.”
“The question is if you can make the shot when it counts,” Francis said, taking a step forward and moving around Lady Ridlington. He purposefully gave her a wide berth, so they did not touch one another again. She noticed, for she looked sharply at him as he walked around her. “Louisa, can you do it when the pressure is high? When your life depends on it?”
“How can I tell that?” she asked as he passed her a final shot with which to load the pistol. She placed the shot in the end and pushed it down with the wadding as he had instructed.
“For one thing, you usually have to hit a moving target.”
“I do not fancy practicing that!”
“Then how about making the shot whilst being distracted?” Francis asked. Behind her back, he picked a small branch off a nearby tree.
“She knows the distraction is coming now though?” Lady Ridlington asked, narrowing her eyes as she watched him pull down the branch. He placed a finger to his lips, urging her to be quiet. She smirked with mischief but stayed quiet.
“It is still a test,” he promised. “Louisa, make your shot. Lady Ridlington will talk to you throughout and try to distract you.”
Lady Ridlington giggled before turning her focus on Louisa and engaging her in animated conversation. Francis didn’t pay too much attention to the topic, but he noticed Louisa stiffen a little, finding concentrating on the target ahead of her a little more difficult than before. He waited until Louisa was ready to pull the trigger, then he lifted the branch and carefully tickled her under her ear with the leaf.
She squealed and lowered the gun a little as she fired. Lady Ridlington laughed raucously at the sound Louisa had made as the latter turned and glared at Francis. He held up the branch innocently.
“That was sabotage, not distraction!” she complained.
“I believe the game worked though,” he said with a smile and pointed at the target up ahead. Louisa turned back to see that she had actually fired the gun before she lowered it, for there was a new bullet hole in the target, not far away from the center.
“Ha! I did it anyway?”
“You did, well done,” he said, dropping the branch and walking back to Lady Ridlington’s side. “Did you want a go, my Lady?” he asked, addressing her.
“You’re going to distract me? How?” she asked, scrunching up her nose in suspicion.
“I’m sure I could think of a way,” he said, lowering his voice an octave. She took the flirtatious meaning in his words, for she blushed all the more.
“You are trouble,” she whispered, as Louisa turned away, reloading the pistol another time.
“I know. I don’t think I can stop though.”
* * *
Francis was standing in the garden room of the house, with the walls built mostly of glass, so that he was flooded with sunlight. He was leaning one hand against the nearest window, staring out at the garden beyond. He could just see the edge of the stable yard where Lady Ridlington was standing with the groom as he prepared a horse for her to read. She was with the Andalusian again, stroking his nose softly, and clearly whispering to the horse something kind, for the horse’s nose was bent toward her.
“Are you not capable of looking away from her?” The question made Francis spin round, surprised to find Josiah in the room.
“When did you get here?” Francis asked, trying to step away from the glass toward his brother-in-law, yet finding her kept glancing back anyway out the window, toward Lady Ridlington.
“Just now. Your housekeeper let me in,” Josiah said as he held up a letter in his hands. “From Mr Preston.” He proffered it toward Francis.
“For me or Lady Ridlington?”
“For you,” Josiah said. “It is the terms of payment.”
Francis opened the letter and looked inside, finding as Josiah had described some details on the terms of payment. All looked find to Francis’ eyes. At the bottom of the letter, there were a few extra words, where Mr Preston had thanked them for bringing the letter from the Viscount to him. He was certain the letter could be used as evidence of the Viscount’s cruelty in court, if it came to it. There was a second note at the bottom of the letter.
“He still hasn’t heard back?” Francis asked, reading over this second note. “That has been a few days. The Viscount would have undoubtedly received the paperwork by now.”
“I agree with you,” Josiah said, shaking his head before taking the place Francis had just vacated by the window, looking out to where Lady Ridlington was standing with the horse, preparing for her ride. “Let us hope he replies soon. Then we can put her mind at rest.”
Francis looked past his brother-in-law, out to Lady Ridlington, feeling that same sense of longing he always had when he looked at her these days.
“Is she aware of it?” Josiah asked.
“Of what?” Francis asked, moving to stand beside Josiah.
“Of what you feel for her?” he asked. Francis said nothing for a minute in reply. He just continued to stare at Lady Ridlington, watching the gentle way she stroked the horse’s nose as she bobbed on her toes, clearly excited and impatient to be off on her ride.
“She knows I respect her and that I…” Francis trailed off, thinking of the sheer amount of flirtation that had been between them recently.
“I’m not going to ask what the latter part of that sentence was,” Josiah said with a chuckle. The words earned a harsh glare from Francis. “I just hope you know what you are doing.”
“What does that mean?” Francis asked, keeping his gaze on his friend.
“It means that after all this is done, her reputation will be damaged from it. Come on, we all know it. We may all be avoiding the conversation for we know it is not a nice topic to talk of,” Josiah said, grimacing. “But her reputation will be marred a little.”
“I know,” Francis sighed with the words. “What is your point?”
“My point is that any man who wishes to marry her will have to be prepared to take that on.”
“Marry?” Francis repeated, turning his body completely away from the window as he looked toward his friend. “Who said anything about marriage!?”
“The thought hadn’t entered your mind?” Josiah asked with one risen eyebrow.
“No…no it had not!” Francis insisted. Though his eyes turned back out the window, looking for Lady Ridlington. There was a jolt in his stomach, as he watched her with the horse, thinking of Josiah’s words.
“Then think about it,” Josiah said, clapping his shoulder. “Now my delivery duties have been done today, I’m going to return home to Diana.”
“Wait, you cannot just say something like that and leave,” Francis said, turning and following Josiah out of the room.
“Can’t I?” Josiah asked with mischief in his eyes. “I have to get home. I’ll leave your thoughts of your guest to yourself.”
“Josiah?” Francis tried to call him back, but Josiah couldn’t be stopped. He headed toward the door and with the butler standing beside it, there was no chance Francis could now speak openly about the matter at hand, not without giving away Lady Ridlington’s real identity.
“You know my thoughts on this, Francis,” Josiah said, hovering in the door. “Quite frankly, I have never understood your resolution not to marry.”
Francis said nothing, his body just stiffened.
“I could not travel so easily with a wife at my side,” he said tartly.
“Could you not?” Josiah asked. “You must simply find a wife that will like travel too. Good day, Francis.” He bent his head in parting and left through the door, leaving Francis alone to his thoughts.
He did not stand still for very long. Of their own accord, his feet took him back to the garden room and then out of the door, heading across the lawn toward the stable yard. The closer he got to Lady Ridlington, he could see her looking up at him, in anticipation of his arrival.
With the Andalusian now set up with his reins and the saddle, it wasn’t long before she would be setting out on her ride. Yet he didn’t want to see her go just yet.
“He is beautiful, Your Grace,” Lady Ridlington said as he reached her side. She was talking of the Andalusian, stroking his nose around the reins. “I do not think I have ever loved a horse as much as this one.”
“He loves you more than he ever loved me too, I am certain of it,” Francis said softly, watching the way the Andalusian rested his nose into her grasp, with his head turned toward her. She had ridden often of late, and after each ride, the Andalusian always seemed sad to part from her.
“Then we have a mutual affection,” she said, smiling up at the horse. “Is all well, Your Grace?” Her words made Francis turn away from the horse and gaze at her. The groom walked off, back to the stable, leaving the two of them alone.
“Well?” Francis repeated as though the word confused him.
“You do not quite seem like your usual self,” she said softly. “Maybe a little quieter than usual.”
“I am trapped in whirring thoughts.”
“What thoughts?” she asked him.
He didn’t know how to answer her. He looked around a few times but seeing the groom had gone and there was no one else nearby, he took his opportunity. He stepped toward her and took one of Lady Ridlington’s hands, lifting it to his lips and kissing the back. He held it far longer than propriety should have dictated, pressing the kiss intimately to her hand and holding her gaze.