A stray arrow, a screaming man, and a gentleman in disguise—Miss Phoebe Sauber's archery practice is about to get complicated.
Phoebe’s heart clenched. She had never injured anyone in all her years of archery and did not want to believe that this one rare misfire had harmed someone. She dropped her bow, grabbed at her skirts, and raced toward the trees.
The screaming continued in short bursts, but it sounded strange. It sounded like a young girl, but at the same time, the tone was more booming than a girl.
As she approached the tree-line, a man burst out from the shadows of the trees. His face was a mask of horror, and as he ran, his limbs flailed all around him. However, he was not limping, nor was he bleeding. He did not appear to be injured at all, but he did not stop his girlish shrieking, even when he spotted Phoebe, who had paused in surprise. He then bolted away from her across the Heath.
Phoebe was about to run after him, but then she noticed movement among the dark shadows of the trees. Had there been someone else with the man? Was his companion even now lying injured? Phoebe made an instant decision and turned toward the forest.
The vegetation near the edge did not grow thickly together, but the wind rustling through the treetops made the light flicker dimly. “Is anyone there?” She stamped through the underbrush. “Are you injured?”
She found her arrow lodged, not in a victim, but knee-height in a tree trunk at a downward angle, and it had caught a strangely shaped leaf against the bark. As she yanked it out of the tree and the leaf fluttered to the ground, a snapping twig behind her made her tense. It did not sound like anyone from her party who may have been running into the trees after her—it was an isolated sound, made from a slow-moving foot, like someone sneaking up on her.
It had not occurred to her that it might be dangerous for a young woman to be alone on the Heath, where she and her friends often had social gatherings. But these trees extended back hundreds of yards, and anyone could be sneaking around within.
Phoebe clenched the arrow tightly, regretting that she had dropped her bow. She straightened, trying to appear relaxed, listening for sounds other than the leaves dancing in the wind. Then she whirled around, her right arm pulled back and brandishing the arrow overhand like a dagger. At the very least, if there was someone behind her, she could try to stab them.
“Whoa! Whoa!” A tall man stood about ten feet—no, twenty feet distant as he backed away from her, his hands raised in front of him. “I apologize, miss, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
The man’s voice had a strong country accent, but the timbre was familiar. At first glance, he didn’t look like anyone she knew. His plain colored clothes were made of rough-woven fabric, stained with dirt in places, and his shoes were old cracked leather. His coat was shabby and poorly sewn, and much too short for him. He had a large nose and deep chin, and his eyes, shadowed by heavy brows, were glass-green.
But then she recognized something about his limbs, the way he moved his hands, the general shape of his face—and those glass-green eyes. “Mr. Coulton-Jones?” she exclaimed in surprise.
She had seen him only rarely over her past several Seasons because he had been fighting on the Peninsula up until last year, when his older brother had died. They had been introduced at a ball in her second Season, and he had danced with her only that one time. While she had a good memory for names and faces, that wasn’t the reason she remembered him clearly—it was because he had made an impact upon her that she hadn’t wanted, but couldn’t erase.
Mr. Coulton-Jones controlled his face admirably, affecting a confused look. “I’m sorry, miss, but you’re mistaken.”
She was not. Like a woman deranged and obsessed (which she very well might be), she had covertly watched him at every gathering they attended together. This was most definitely him. “Mr. Coulton-Jones, why are you dressed like that? And your face … is that stage cosmetics? It’s quite realistic.”
He hesitated for several seconds, and she could tell he was debating between continuing to deny his identity or abandoning his act. The certainty in her gaze must have decided it for him, because he relaxed and his normal saucy smile quirked up the edge of his mouth. “You have me at a disadvantage, Miss Sauber.”
Phoebe’s mouth dropped open before she could think to stop it. How in the world had he remembered her? He must have an even better memory than she did, for he was certain to have danced with ten times more people.
“Um … it’s nice to see you again, Mr. Coulton-Jones.” She mentally kicked herself—could she sound any more inane? But the sight of him, even obscured by the stage cosmetics, had caused her intelligence level to drop a few notches.
It wasn’t simply that he was handsome. From her experience, handsome men usually either rudely ignored her very existence or they were desperate fortune hunters. However, a handful politely interacted with her, and Mr. Michael Coulton-Jones had been one of them.
At the one time they danced, the hostess of the ball had practically hurled him into Phoebe’s arms, probably because he was one of the few men taller than she was. But he had lightly flirted with her during the dance until he could take her back to her chaperone.
He had never again been forced to ask her to dance, and neither had he asked her of his own accord at any other ball she had seen him attend over the years.
However, he always greeted her if he happened to see her. It was perfectly unexceptional behavior. It shouldn’t have inspired her to always scan the faces around her at social gatherings to see if he was in attendance, as if he were water for her desperate, shrunken spinster’s heart.
Secrets, disguises, and a sudden encounter in the woods…
Step into the world of Lady Wynwood’s Spies, a Christian Regency romantic suspense series filled with clever heroines, hidden dangers, and a dash of irreverent humor.
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This post relates to Camille Elliot’s Lady Wynwood’s Spies, a Christian Regency romantic suspense series set in 1811 London and featuring intrigue, espionage, botanical alchemy, slow-burn romance, and themes of faith and redemption.
• Lady Wynwood’s Spies Series Reference Page
• Reading Order: Lady Wynwood’s Spies Reader Journey Roadmap
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