The Scoundrel and the Debutante by Julia London Read Free Book Online Page B

earned her a look of bafflement from her sister and the old man.
    â€œAnd who do you suggest engage in a footrace, Nina?”
    â€œPerhaps something a bit less athletic,” Prudence intervened. “Something—”
    â€œMarksmanship.”
    This, the first word uttered by the elderly gentleman, was so surprising that they all paused a moment to look at him.
    â€œI had in mind a word game or something a bit tamer, but very well,” Prudence said. “Marksmanship it is.”
    â€œThat’s absurd!” Mrs. Scales exclaimed. “Again, who shall participate?”
    â€œWell, the gentlemen, certainly,” Prudence said. “I’ve yet to meet a proper gentleman who wasn’t eager for sport.”
    â€œI’m not sure you want to put firearms in the hands of some of our fellow travelers,” Mr. Matheson said.
    Prudence looked at the men lounging about. He had a point. But Mrs. Scales was watching her so intently that Prudence didn’t dare sit back down. “Then
I’ll
participate,” she said, turning about.
    Her pronouncement was met with a lot of snorting.
    But Mr. Matheson laughed...with great amusement. “That’s preposterous.”
    Prudence’s mouth dropped open. “How can you say so?” she objected. “I’ve been taught to shoot!”
    â€œWhy ever for?” Mrs. Scales cried. “On my word, Mrs. Tricklebank, the state of society is exactly as I feared—ladies are not ladies at all!”
    Now Prudence was doubly offended. “I beg your pardon, I was taught to shoot for sport, obviously!”
    â€œI think there is nothing obvious about it,” Mrs. Scales said, and snapped open her fan and began to wave it in time with her sister’s.
    â€œI like this idea,” Mr. Matheson said, nodding. He folded his arms and studied Prudence intently, a droll smile on his face that transformed him. His eyes were suddenly shining. “I like it very much, in fact. What do you say we limit the contest to just the two of us to begin,” he said, gesturing between them. “Anyone here may challenge the victor.”
    Prudence looked back at the others. She expected some gentleman to stand up and express a desire to shoot. But no one did.
    â€œWell, then, Miss Cabot?” Mr. Matheson said. “Wasn’t it your idea to pass the time?”
    It was. And in hindsight, it appeared to be a very bad idea. It was very unlike her to speak so boldly and impetuously, and now Prudence knew why her sisters were accustomed to talking out of turn and saying outrageous things. How did they do it? How did they say impetuous things and then
do
impetuous things?
    Mr. Matheson was watching her with far too much anticipation. As if he couldn’t wait to put a firearm in her hand. His smile had broadened. “Perhaps these good people might like to wager on our contest,” he said smoothly, gesturing grandly to the ladies.
    â€œWager,” said the old man, nodding.
    â€œOoh,” said Mrs. Scales. “I certainly have been known to enjoy a wager or two.” She tittered as she opened her reticule. Prudence gaped at the woman in surprise. Mrs. Scales glanced at her expectantly. “Well? As the gentleman said, it was
your
idea.”
    â€œYes, all right,” Prudence said crossly. What a fool she was! She
had
been taught to shoot. The earl, as they had always referred to her stepfather, had insisted his stepdaughters be properly instructed in riding, shooting, gaming and archery. He said that they should be prepared to meet their match in a man. Unfortunately, Prudence had not met her match in a man in such a long time that she was quite unpracticed at shooting now.
    â€œWe will need a target,” Matheson said with all the confidence of a man who knew he would win and win handily. That trait, Prudence discovered, was just as maddening whether a gentleman was British or American.
    â€œI’ve