At the dowager’s request, Ernest had moved the targets again that morning. The straw mats now stood as far apart as they had when Annabella had first been shown the range.She drew the bowstring.Where had Jon gone off to so early that he’d missed taking breakfast with her and the dowager again? Goodness, he’d been gone from Blackmoor so frequently in past days it almost seemed he no longer resided there. She never saw him in the morning and scarcely saw him in the evening. Moreover, the door between their bedchambers remained closed.Jon… the name had floated about in her head, enticing her to say it, ever since he’d insisted she use it that day at the canal. She’d yet to say it aloud except for that first time. Heat invaded her face, and her heart picked up into a gallop at the memory.That day things between them had begun to change. He’d shown her bits of the real Earl of Seabrook. And she had begun to feel comfortable letting him see pieces of her.Then the next day he’d taken himself off early in the morning and not returned until supper.
