Download File A Shot At The Duke_: A Witty His -...

Penelope let the string slip. The arrow whistled through the air and thudded—dead center.

Arthur straightened, his curiosity piqued. "Freedom? Most ladies of the ton are content with embroidery and gossip."

Lady Penelope Thorne was not looking for a husband, but she was looking for a target. Download File A Shot at the Duke_ A Witty His -...

He stepped behind her, his chest inches from her back. He reached around, his large hands steadying hers. The air between them suddenly felt thicker than the summer humidity.

"Hardly," Penelope laughed, turning in his arms. The wit that usually protected her failed as she looked up at him. "Perhaps the Duke of Ashbourne is good for something other than scowling at garden parties." Penelope let the string slip

"Ponsonby is a bore," Arthur conceded, walking toward her. "But your form is still tragic. Anchor your hand to your jaw. Don't look at the arrow; look at the gold center."

"You're gripping the riser too tightly, Lady Penelope," a deep voice drawled. "Freedom

"Beginner's luck," Arthur teased, though his hand lingered on her arm a second too long.