Page 83 of Heiress Gone Wild

He took the cup Carlotta held out to him with a murmur of thanks, plucked a cucumber sandwich off the nearest tray, and still grinning, sank down on the blanket in Cecil’s vacated spot, but his grin faded as he caught Marjorie watching him through narrowed eyes.

“Really, Jonathan,” Clara said with a sigh. “I’m proud of you for taking your guardianship duties so seriously, but did you have to send the poor fellow scurrying off in terror the moment you arrived? He may never come to stay at Ravenwood again.”

He saw the rebuke in Marjorie’s gaze, but he just couldn’t find it in him to be repentant. “If I’ve driven him away with a simple statement of fact and a handshake, would it be such a loss?”

“It would,” Clara replied, easing back on the blanket, resting her weight on her elbows. “He’s unmarried, handsome, and quite agreeable. He’s also an excellent tennis player—though I don’t know why I’m praising him for that, since he and Marjorie are so good they trounced Rex and me in straight sets a while ago.”

Rex leaned back beside his wife with a sigh. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Oh, stop,” Clara said, nudging his leg with her foot. “I’m the weak link, and I know it.”

“Put a croquet mallet in her hands, though,” Rex told Jonathan, “and watch out.”

Jonathan laughed, remembering childhood days. “Don’t I know it.”

He glanced at the empty tennis court, appreciating there might be a way to soften Marjorie’s resentment. He gulped down his tea, popped his last bite of sandwich into his mouth, and stood up, looking at her. “C’mon,” he said, nodding toward the court as he pulled off his hat and jacket and dropped them onto the grass. “Let’s have a go so that I can see how good you really are.”

“But I just played three sets.”

“Then you’re nicely warmed up.” He removed his cuff links, tossed them into his hat, then removed his tie, undid his collar, and began rolling up his sleeves. “While I haven’t held a racquet in a decade. One set. Unless,” he added as she continued to hesitate, “you’re afraid?”

“Be warned, my friend,” Clara interjected. “Jonathan was a cracking good player at Winchester. Helped them win the doubles three years running.”

“Doubles?” Marjorie made a scoffing sound, and when Jonathan held out his hand, she allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Had he won the singles for his schoolfouryears running, I might be impressed.” With the warning that he might have a fight on his hands, she bent down, grabbed her racquet and a ball from the lawn and started toward the baseline of the left-hand court as if to serve.

His words stopped her before she got there. “No coin toss?”

She turned, one eyebrow going up. “A gentleman usually allows a lady the first serve. But if you’d prefer not to be a gentleman...”

“No, no. I’m happy to allow you the courtesy.” He smiled in deliberate provocation. “Everyone knows you are the weaker sex. I’ll even spot you a point,” he offered as she made a sound of outrage, “just to make it sporting.”

She ignored that. “Rex?” she called, looking past him. “Get a coin. I call tails.”

She won the toss, but before Jonathan let her serve, he beckoned her to the net. “Care to place a wager on this?”

“Love to,” she said with unnerving swiftness. “If I win, you stop intimidating my friends.”

He tried to look innocent. “I don’t know what you mean. I wasn’t the least bit intimidating.”

“No?” She gave a cough, then continued in a noticeably deeper voice, “‘I also happen to be Miss McGann’s guardian,’” and made a sound of derision. “Is this how you think you’re going to win me over? By running roughshod over every male that comes within shouting distance of me?”

An appealing idea, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “I can’t help it if your friend’s got the nerves of a rabbit. As to my chances of winning you over, your words imply that I do at least have a chance.”

“You are delusional,” she said, so quickly that he felt a spark of hope.

“You’ve already refused me, so why should you care?”

Her face hardened. “I don’t. Now, if I win this game, you agree to stop bullying the men who pay attention to me. Is it a bet?”

“We haven’t decided what happens if I win.”

“What do you want?”

His gaze lowered to her soft, pink mouth. “That’s an interesting question.”

“Stop it, Jonathan.” Her face twisted a little. “Why are you doing this?”

He met her gaze. “I told you I wasn’t giving up.”

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