Winning A Wallflower by Wendy Vella

Author:Wendy Vella [Vella, Wendy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vella Ink
Published: 2023-01-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

“Well, well, it seems you have more than one skill, Miss Birdwhistle,” Miss Burrows said when they were finished.

Ivy was not about to ask what skill Miss Burrow referred to. “Thank you.”

“I was not offering you a compliment.”

The targets were being moved for the men. Ivy had the urge to see if she could be as accurate with the longer distance. Perhaps tonight she could sneak out again and attempt it if the moon was as bright as it had been last night.

“I’m not sure why you wouldn’t be,” a deep voice said from behind her. “She was outstanding.”

Ivy clenched her eyes shut before facing Mr. Nightingale. He was smiling at her.

“Mr. Nightingale, I was just complimenting Miss Birdwhistle on her success,” Miss Burrows gushed.

Ivy felt nauseous as she and the others batted their eyelashes and preened like silly little birds at him. She ignored them and jammed her arrows back in the quiver.

“Were you really? Forgive me, I must have misheard,” he drawled. “Congratulations on your exceptional accuracy, Miss Birdwhistle.”

Ivy dipped into a curtsey which was probably not deep enough. “Thank you, Mr. Nightingale.”

“Ladies,” he acknowledged with a bow. Then his eyes locked on Ivy’s. “Miss Birdwhistle,” he added before walking away.

The fact he’d not included her in the “ladies” but singled her out specifically made her feel uncomfortable. Especially as the “ladies” in question were glaring daggers at her now.

This was not her plan. She did not want anyone to notice her. Then when the season was over, she would never have to step foot in society again. Entering an archery competition and winning was not remaining invisible.

Ivy made her way to where her family stood.

“Well done, Ivy, but then I never doubted you would win.” Her uncle patted her shoulder. Thea and her aunt hugged her.

“You look rather regal when you’re firing your arrow with your whatnot,” Thea said.

“Bow, do you mean?” Ivy said through her teeth.

“Yes, that.” Thea had an innocent look on her face.

“You do that deliberately, don’t you?”

“Of course. It’s important to keep you on your toes.”

“How is you not knowing the names of things that you should keeping me on my toes?” Ivy’s voice rose slightly.

“That’s enough,” her uncle said with the practiced ease of a man who had stepped into his charges’ debates often in his lifetime.

They stood together to watch the men.

“He’s a wonderful man, you know,” Lady Osborne said, appearing at her side. “It was time for him to come home, and it is time for him to settle down.”

“Who?” Thea said before Ivy could.

“Mr. Nightingale. He’s always been a favorite of mine.” She walked away.

“That woman is truly frightening,” Ivy whispered. “I want to be just like her when I grow up.”

Thea laughed. “Rude, demanding, and just a bit wicked?”

“All of that.”

“Why did she speak about Mr. Nightingale to us, do you think, Ivy?”

“Perhaps she thinks he would be a good husband for you, Thea?”

“Or you,” her cousin shot back.

“Not bloody likely,” she whispered. “I am pleased to say a man like that would never look at someone like me.

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