Page 45 of The Insufferable Duke
“I am afraid I am no good at this game, Your Grace. You would have been better off picking a better partner than I. Helena is the much finer player,” Nancy assured him, gesturing in Helena’s direction.
“I am glad to partner you, Miss Hardy.” He smiled so broadly that Helena was tongue-tied.
He doesn’t smile like that at me.
The Duke of Bridstone stepped forward to take his turn, leaving a space for Helena to stand beside her friend.
“He is quite gentlemanly, is he not?” Miss Hardy whispered.
“No, he is not.” Helena shook her head.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the gentleman that has been talking to you for the last few minutes is not the gentleman I know,” Helena murmured, watching as the Duke of Bridstone took his turn. It was a fine shot, directly through one of the hoops, leaving his cousin to curse at his good skill. “He is not the man I know,” she said again.
“Helena, the night of the assembly when you danced with the Duke of Bridstone, I watched,” Nancy nudged her shoulder. “Was there not something there?”
“What on earth do you mean?” Helena looked sharply at her friend.
“Only that it was like watching lovers on a stage,” Nancy said with a giggle. “There was something there as you looked at one another.”
“We were not performing in some theatre show.”
“What of those longing looks between you?” Nancy asked.
“You mistake glares for something more.” Helena turned away from her friend and stepped forward with her mallet. The Duke of Bridstone walked past her, not once glancing her way. Her stomach tightened into a firm knot at his disregard of her.
Helena struck her ball with anger. It fired through the nearest hoop in the perfect shot if a little too far.
“Good shot!” Lord Sheylough appraised her with a clap. “Imagining the ball was someone, Lady Helena?” he teased, walking around her.
“I don’t know what you mean.” She avoided looking him in the eye and walked on as they followed the others to the next set of hoops.
It didn’t seem to matter how much she looked at the Duke of Bridstone; he did not glance at her. He was absorbed in being attentive to Nancy, and it riled Helena so much that she could not stand still. When Lord Sheylough stood beside her, he took the mallet out of her hand.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Maybe I fear for my cousin’s health,” he chuckled in a low voice.
“What on earth do you mean?”
“I mean a lady’s jealousy is a plain thing to observe. You wish for my cousin’s attention, Lady Helena? I’m sure you could easily capture it.” Lord Sheylough’s words had her blushing a deep shade of red.
“You mistake the problems between our families as something else; that is all.”
“I think I do not.” He laughed and returned the mallet to her. “You are the finest shot here. You wish for his attention? Start focusing and winning this game, and you’ll have it; trust me.” He winked at her and walked away, taking his own shot.
Helena stared after Lord Sheylough, uncertain what to make of him. Out of all the Moores, he was the one who seemed the most accepting of his cousin’s marriage. Even at their dinner, Helena had decided she had quite liked Lord Sheylough. Yet he had not made the effort to keep peace between the families, rather preferring to make jokes about it and laugh.
He is fond of a jest; that is all.
He took his shot then nodded to her. She walked past him, thinking about what he said.
“Remember,” he whispered as they passed, “you can have his attention easily.”
“I don’t want it,” she insisted.
“Yes, and the Carters and Moores are the greatest of friends,” he said wryly and walked on.
