Page 117 of What Change Entails

Georgiana hid a laugh behind her glove.

Darcy stepped forward. “Miss Lydia, your hand there. No, not upon the feathering. Keep your elbow lower.”

Lydia adjusted nothing correctly.

“Lower,” Darcy repeated.

“This feels low.”

“It is not.”

“It feels low to me.”

“That does not affect its actual position.”

Elizabeth made a sound that might have been sympathy for him.

Lydia drew back the string with heroic determination. The arrow trembled, slipped, and shot nearly sideways into a shrub.

A gardener working nearby ducked behind a hedge.

Silence followed.

Lydia lowered the bow. “I meant to frighten the target first.”

Bingley applauded. “A bold opening.”

Mr. Gardiner called toward the gardener, “All well, Barnes?”

The gardener raised one hand from behind the hedge. “Aye, sir. Though I’ll thank the young lady to aim at the painted circle.”

“I shall consider it,” Lydia replied.

Miss Bingley released a delicate sigh. “Perhaps archery requires more discipline than enthusiasm.”

Lydia brightened. “Then you must be excellent.”

Mrs. Gardiner bent over her workbasket to hide her face.

Darcy coughed and devoted his attention to Elizabeth.

She was laughing silently, shoulders shaking, eyes bright in the sun. When she saw him watching, her expression became conspiratorial rather than guarded.

Darcy fixed his attention upon the targets before he betrayed himself as thoroughly as Lydia had betrayed the gardener’s safety.

Georgiana tried next. Her first attempt fell short by several yards. She flushed, then said to Lydia, who declared the grass had been menacing the arrow and required warning. Georgiana’s next arrow flew farther, striking the outer ring of the target. Lydia cheered with such vigor that Horace turned his head in alarm.

“Well done,” Darcy said.

Georgiana grinned, pleased and embarrassed together.

Miss Bingley stepped forward. “You see, my dear, elegance of form assists everything. Now if you keep your shoulders—”

Georgiana’s expression faltered.

Lydia dropped her bow.

“Oh! My ribbon.”