The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

”THE DUKE AND DUCHESS ARE HAVING AN ARCHERY CHALLENGE!”

A servant announced to Georgia, who was seated with her friends, enjoying the afternoon tea in the manicured palace garden.

”What?” Lady Katherine exclaimed, her eyes widening. As Damian’s first aunt and the wife of the Royal Treasurer, she was the arbiter of traditional decorum. ”Since when does a woman practice archery? I thought you brought home a mother for Roman and a wife for the Duke, Your Grace, not a soldier.”

”But isn’t it fascinating that the Duchess knows the bow?” Lady Astella countered, resting her porcelain cup carefully on its saucer. A hint of a smile played on her lips. ”It is quite a rare talent for a lady of her station. We shall go and watch them.”

The other two ladies murmured in agreement, their curiosity piqued by the prospect of such an unconventional display. Georgia stood up, smoothing her skirts with a proud tilt of her chin.

”My daughter-in-law is full of surprises,” Georgia remarked smoothly, though she herself was secretly surprised by the sudden turn of events. ”Let us see if the Duke has finally met his match on the training grounds.”

The group of noblewomen rose and began their trek toward the archery range, their silk gowns trailing over the grass as they whispered among themselves about this new, bold side of the Duchess.

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Eilika picked up the heavy bow, her fingers expertly testing the tension of the string. The weight was substantial, a professional weapon rather than the lighter decorative bows often used by noblewomen for sport.

”You should wear more comfortable clothes for archery,” Damian advised, his arms crossed as he watched her. ”In that gown, you may not be able to reach your full potential.”

Nearby, Louis moved his paper fan slowly across his face, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He had already leaned over to Maurice to place a discreet bet on Eilika.

”What? No! The Duke is one of the best archers in the kingdom,” Maurice remarked in a hushed, incredulous voice. ”He hasn’t missed a bullseye in years.”

”But the Duchess’ hidden talents are unknown to everyone,” Louis muttered back, his voice oozing confidence. ”I have a feeling Damian is about to be very surprised by his wife’s aim.”

Eilika ignored the whispering, her focus narrowing on the target downrange. She adjusted her stance, the silk of her skirts rustling against the grass as she found her balance.

”The gown is a bit restrictive,” Eilika admitted, glancing at Damian with a defiant spark, ”but a true archer adapts to their environment, Your Grace. So, shall we begin?”

”If you say so,” Damian replied, his voice a low rumble. He tightened his grip on his own bow, his expression shifting from skeptical to intrigued as he watched her composure.

Louis stepped forward, closing his fan with a snap. He gave a flourish of a bow to the couple. ”The two of you will be given three chances to deliver your best shots,” he announced, his eyes darting between them. ”Now, we shall decide who begins.”

He didn’t wait for a coin toss. ”Ladies first,” he answered himself, offering a grand gesture toward the target as he gazed at Eilika with a knowing glint.

The small crowd of noblewomen, led by Georgia and a scowling Lady Katherine, reached the edge of the range just as Eilika stepped up to the mark.

Damian stepped back to give her space, not wanting her to get distracted.

Eilika didn’t look back. She reached into the quiver, her fingers finding the notch of the first arrow. She raised the heavy bow, the wood groaning slightly as she pulled the string back to her ear. The tip of the arrow leveled perfectly with the distant gold center of the target.

Taking a deep breath, she let the tension of the string rest against her cheek. She stood as still as a statue, calculating the slight crosswind and the rustle of the leaves, waiting for the perfect lull in the air.

”I don’t think she can even reach such a distance,” Lady Aurora remarked with a poised skepticism. The elderly noblewoman adjusted her lace fan. ”The Duchess challenging the Duke is itself ridiculous; she will likely drop the bow before—”

”Thwack!”

The first arrow was shot. It sliced through the air with a predatory hiss and slammed into the exact center of the target. The impact was so forceful the shaft vibrated.

A collective gasp erupted from the onlookers. Lady Estelle’s fan froze mid-air, and even the skeptical Lady Katherine took a sudden step forward, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Damian didn’t say a word. He stood with his arms crossed, his gaze shifting from the quivering arrow in the bullseye to Eilika’s steady profile. He smiled a little and waited for her to make two more shots.

Eilika pulled a second arrow from the quiver, her expression remains unruffled despite the growing murmurs from the gallery of noblewomen.

She drew the string back, but as she released, a sudden gust of wind caught the fletching.

The arrow hissed through the air, striking just a hair’s breadth outside the center, landing in the red circle surrounding the bullseye.

”A fluke, then,” Lady Katherine whispered in relief. ”The first was merely a stroke of fortune.”

”But it’s not either bad,” said Astella. ”We can say she scored nine out of ten.”

Eilika reached for her final arrow. She nocked it slowly. She waited, her muscles taut under the silk of her gown, biding her time for the air to settle in her favor.

When the breeze finally died down to a whisper, she aimed for the center once more and loosed the string. The shaft flew true, but at the last micro-second, it dipped slightly, striking the red ring again, right beside her second shot.

”Two in the red, one in the gold,” Louis announced, clapping for the Duchess.

”Her Grace Duchess Eilika is too good to be defeated in archery, I believe,” he added.