Free Lords of Desire by Virginia Henley, Victoria Dahl, Sally Mackenzie, Kristi Astor Page B

officer’s belt pistols. The barrels and mountings are made of brass, which resists the corrosion of salt water. These are matched and have left- and right-hand locks.”
    “Isn’t it usual to have your name or initials engraved on the polished butt caps?” she puzzled. “These say ‘James Freeman.’”
    “That’s the maker’s name.” He winked. “Expedience before vanity. I want no identifying marks on my lethal weapons.”
    She felt a chill and purposely ignored it. “You are the best tutor I’ve ever had. I shall strive to be a model pupil, milord.”
    From behind a false panel, he opened a cupboard she didn’t know about and extracted a small barrel of gunpowder. He offered Pandora a small leather pouch, which she carried in her mouth. “Come, then; I warrant target practice is never time wasted.”
    On the grass quadrangle in the courtyard, Falcon set out two metal brackets that each held a square candle, which he then lit. “Twenty paces is far enough for a beginner, I think.”
    “That’s the accepted distance between duelists when they turn and fire.”
    He gave her a quizzical glance as they strode down the field. “Duels are fought with swords and rapiers, Tory. I’ve fought enough. Hellfire, don’t tell me men challenge each other with guns in your time? Where’s the honor in that?”
    She was about to ask Falcon about the duels he’d fought, but bit her lip. She didn’t want to know if he’d killed anyone.
    He opened the barrel of gunpowder and took out a flask with a small spout. Then he took the pouch from Pandora’s mouth and fished out a lead ball. He gave Tory an empty pistol to hold and loaded the other. “Watch carefully. Keep it at half cock until you’re ready to shoot.” He put the pistol down, took the one she’d been holding and loaded it the same way, then picked up the other one. “Now you fully cock, aim, and pull the trigger.”
    Tory jumped as the powder exploded with a bang and both candle flames were snuffed.
    “You are a superb marksman!”
    He shook his head. “They didn’t go out at the same instant. My left hand is slower on the trigger.”
    “But you aimed two pistols at once, at two different targets. I am in awe, Falcon Hawkhurst.”
    “Are you game to try it? I’ll go and light the candles.”
    “No need. I won’t even hit the candle, let alone a flame. And I can’t handle two guns at the same time.”
    He handed her the pistol with the right-hand lock. “Load it the way I showed you and don’t forget to keep it half-cocked until you are ready.”
    “Are you sure it won’t go off at half cock? Isn’t that where the expression comes from?”
    He gave her a wicked grin. “It is a belt pistol. If it went off it would literally mean half cock.”
    “You are making me laugh to distract me. Behave yourself.” Tory had no trouble loading, unlocking, or aiming. The snag came when she fired the weapon and landed on her derriere. “I wasn’t expecting that.” She dusted off her bottom. “Let me try again.”
    Exercising infinite patience, Falcon encouraged and instructed her in the use of firearms the entire morning. Only when her lead ball hit the castle and chipped the ancient stone did Victoria throw up her hands in defeat. Falcon gave the pistols to Mr. Burke, who was watching the target practice, to clean and reload.
    To Hawkhurst, the morning had been a great diversion. It was a new experience to have a female for a friend, especially one who was willing to share his interests and not just his bed. “Let’s go for a ride. We can stop at the Oak and Ivy, then I’ll show you the village.
    You haven’t seen it in daylight.”
    The inn, about a half mile from Hawkhurst, fascinated Tory. Its doorstep was worn down from all the feet that had entered over the years. Downstairs were four snug rooms with rough-hewn trestle tables and benches. Each had a large fireplace with a spit for roasting haunches of meat. The mellow light came from candles