"If there isn't any grouse we might have to go fishing." Hurst told him, with a small amount of glee. While most of his peers seemed to think the sport was for commoners, he had no qualms about spending several hours in the fast-flowing water of the river that ran through the estate, nor a day say on the bank of the lake. Still, he was an odd breed of man. "For I doubt my cook will be happy to raid her store cupboards if we come back with nothing, and I shall never hear the end of it."
It was at the young man's mention of bets that Hurst raised an eyebrow. "You, boy? Shoot more than me?" He laughed, "You'll fire more rounds, but you'll not get half as many birds."
"You are forgetting that I was married by 20, Nathaniel, and a father three times over before I was the age you are now." He said rather flatly, unimpressed with the boy's adamant words. Of course, Hurst had only counted his legitimate children, but one did not go around flaunting the others, especially after the damnable mention of his newest son in the papers had not helped matters much. "What I may or may not do away from home, young Nathaniel, is not something I shall discuss with my god-son. You forget that I can remember very clearly the day you were born."