Chapter 13

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The next morning.

"Excellent shot," Lord Langdon declared appreciatively while Julia clapped.

Poppy strode back towards them, handing over the rifle to a nearby footman.

"You hit dead centre," Julia grinned. "You never told me you were such a good shot."

"It was just luck," Poppy laughed.

"Oh no, my Lady. That most certainly wasn't just luck. It was skill and you're a better shot than most men of my acquaintance," the Marquess praised. Poppy began to protest but Michael interrupted them.

"You are correct in your assessment, Langdon. Poppy is a formidable opponent when it comes to shooting," he smiled proudly.

Poppy blushed.

"Do you shoot, Miss Andrews?" Langdon turned to her.

"I'm afraid not," Julia smiled sheepishly. "I never got the opportunity to learn."

"I'd be honoured to instruct you, Miss Andrews," Langdon bowed before her.

"Oh that would be wonderful," Julia exclaimed.

"I will be more than happy to do it," Michael intervened, staring at Lord Langdon coldly.

"Alright then. Meanwhile, I shall try to coax out some pointers from Lady Poppy," he replied good-naturedly, apparently not fazed by Michael's wrath.

Poppy looked tortured and Julia's cheeks blazed with embarrassment. Why did Michael have to behave in this barbaric fashion? She wanted to berate him but now was not the time.

He dragged her to the side and handed her a rifle, testing its weight first.

"Widen your stance and keep your back straight," he instructed. Julia complied but Michael clucked his tongue and moved behind her.

He pushed her feet further apart with his and put his arms around hers, correcting her stance and grip on the rifle. He kept talking, giving her instructions.

Julia's cheeks flamed at his familiar gesture. She knew she should move away—that was the proper thing to do. But she didn't. Michael stopped talking suddenly. Julia could hear him breathe heavily close to her ear while she stopped breathing entirely. It felt like the act of drawing air into her lungs would be too exhausting...she felt bothered and heated.

"Michael?" Julia whispered.

"Hmm?"

"What are we doing?"

"Damned if I know," he laughed unsteadily.

"You mustn't swear so often," she admonished.

"Out of all the things thar you should be having an issue with, you have an issue with my swearing?" He asked sardonically.

What Michael meant was his intense and uncontainable desire for her but she misunderstood—luckily.

"Well, you are quite autocratic and you were rude to Lord Langdon just now," she said thoughtfully. Judging from the expression on her face, Michael guessed that she had a few more grievances to air and so he brought back her attention to shooting at the target.

Julia was eager to learn and seeing the almost childlike glee on her face when her bullet hit the target made him grin. They would've hit the centre as Poppy had, but Michael was distracted—by her scent, her closeness...Julia fascinated him in ways he couldn't put into words. Apart from the women in his family, Michael noticed little of the female kind. But with Julia, he was constantly learning new things about her. There were so many sides to her...there were times when she was wilful—the way she'd been in London and there were times when she was so sweetly accepting. Julia was an assertive woman and kind as so many other women of the ton weren't. There was of course another side to her that enjoyed his kisses and responded to him at an elemental level.

What maddened him was that he found everything about her intriguing—a strand of her hair that was lighter than the rest, the smooth curve of her cheek when she smiled, the way she laughed at herself. Her sumptuous beauty was only a part of her allure.

"If you two are done with your little staring contest, the gong for luncheon just went off," Poppy said, suddenly appearing on their side.

Julia was startled and a blush stained her cheeks. Michael turned to stare at his sister whose eyes were strangely bright.

"We are coming," he replied.

"Oh you go on, Julia. I'll wait with Michael," Poppy said and shooed her away. Michael stared after her longingly, wanting to spend some more time in her company.

And then he saw that cretin Langdon join Julia as she strode up the hill. They seemed animated as they spoke.

Michael did not take his eyes off her until they disappeared from his view.

*******************

Lord Langdon was a great conversationalist but even he couldn't keep Julia's mind from straying towards the Duke.

She had barely spoken two words when they reached the mansion.

She didn't know what had prompted her to ask Michael about what was happening between them but she'd been so confused. And she could hardly discuss this with someone else. And the fact that he didn't know either surprised her even more.

Julia knew that she wasn't the first woman in Michael's life and that didn't matter to her. What mattered was if she meant something to him.Was their unconventional friendship of any value to him?

She was feeling too many things at once...excitement over her newly discovered feelings for Michael, doubt about the extent of those feelings and the anxiety of getting too attached. She couldn't afford to make any attachments—not when her first priority was to go back to India.

Maybe it was all these feelings and more that lead her to confide in Lord Longford when he asked her what was wrong...

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