“Thanks, Jez. Any word from Katie?”

“She’s packed and ready to leave. It’s a day’s journey to the nearest domestic airport, then a two-hour flight to the international terminal, and then she’ll be on the homestretch—relatively speaking; she’ll still have an eleven-and-a-half-hour flight ahead of her. She won’t hit UK soil till Thursday.”

“Crikey, all she’ll want to do is sleep when she gets here!”

“Yes, I’ve had a word with Jenna and said she probably won’t be partaking of much socializing before the wedding.”

“Fair enough, I’d say.”

Isaac climbed in behind the wheel.

“Ready?” he asked, as Jeremy climbed in the back and took his place in the seat behind Nory.

“I’ve thought long and hard about it and I don’t think I’ll be able to actually shoot a pheasant,” said Nory. “I’m basically coming along to watch and grimace.”

Isaac laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I had a feeling you might come to that conclusion. I’ve got something you can do that requires no killing.”

“Do you have many people like me coming on shoots?”

Isaac raised an eyebrow. “I’ve not had anyone like you on a shoot before.”

Nory smiled. “I mean, do you have many people who won’t shoot attending shoots?”

“It happens occasionally,” he said, smiling while keeping his eyes on the track ahead. “They like the theory but the reality is a bit too real.”

His hand brushed hers as he reached for the gearstick and Nory felt a delightful tingle along her skin.

While the rest of the gang went off to shoot birds—shouts of “Loser!” “Wimp!” and “If you won’t shoot it, don’t eat it!” ringing in her ears—Nory followed Isaac down a track to the next field, where the explosions from the shotguns were marginally less ear-piercing.

“Won’t you be missed over there with the bloodthirsty bunch?” Nory asked.

“They have enough guides to keep them safe. And besides, it is our responsibility to make sure all our guests are catered for, and that includes you.”

“Lucky me,” she replied, licking her lips in a way that she hoped looked tantalizing and not just like she was hungry.

“Frank, one of the gamekeepers, was supposed to be entertaining any anti-shooters with nonlethal target practice, but since it was only you, I convinced him to let me do it.” He grinned.

They stopped beside four wooden crates lined up in the long grass. Isaac swung the sack he’d been carrying off his shoulder and proceeded to pull from it several large swedes, a handful of pale pink turnips, and some beetroots. He placed the vegetables on top of the crates before leading Nory over to a grassy knoll some way away and handing her a rifle.