With a heavy mahogany bow in hand and a quiver of arrows cinched at her waist, she marched into the clearing of the Duke of Ashbourne’s sprawling estate. She didn't notice the Duke himself—the notoriously brooding and impossibly handsome Arthur Vance—leaning against an oak tree just past the practice hay bales.
"Beginner's luck," Arthur teased, though his hand lingered on her arm a second too long. Download File A Shot at the Duke_ A Witty His -...
"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." With a heavy mahogany bow in hand and