Page 14 of The Lady and the Footballer
Emmaline was distracted from the conversation as action on the field captured her attention.
“Go!” she shouted. “Pass! Shoot!”
Lily smiled at her friend’s enthusiasm as her mother rolled her eyes. They all watched intensely, however, as one of theirplayers heading toward the Athletics’ goal passed it into the middle, where another player picked up the ball, dribbled around an opponent, evading a shoulder to the mid-section, and then sent the ball flying toward the posts.
“Goal!” Emmaline shouted, nearly jumping in her excitement, slightly rocking the carriage.
Lily’s mother’s grip tightened on the side of the carriage, her knuckles turning white as she eyed Emmaline.
“I say,” she said. “That is quite enough. Sit down, Emmaline.”
Emmaline did as she was told, but not without smirking Lily’s way.
No additional goals were scored the rest of the game, and by the time it finished, the referee blew a whistle to signal the end of the game. Lily’s heartbeat slowed, as it had been beating as fast as the players’ feet during the game.
“Come along,” her mother said. “We best drive out of here before the crowd begins to make its way through.”
“What about Father?” Lily asked.
“We will wait for him nearby so that we do not become caught in the crush.”
The carriage drove a slight distance away, just out of sight of most of the crowd, the driver and footman who had accompanied them on the lookout to keep them safe.
After a significant time had passed, however, Lily’s mother became impatient.
“James,” she said, turning toward the footman. “Will you go see what is taking my husband so long?”
“I would, my lady,” he said, his face troubled, “but Lord Harcourt was adamant that I remain with you.”
“Benedict is here,” she said, motioning to the driver.
“I understand, my lady,” he said, looking from one of them to the other, uncertain.
“Why do Emmaline and I not come with you, James, and then Benedict can look after my mother?” Lily suggested.
Her mother immediately began to wave her hand away at the idea, but Lily fixed a serene look on her face.
“We will not be long, Mother. All of the crowd is gone now, anyway. Only a few gentlemen remain, and we will be in sight of both you and Father.”
She pointed up toward the pavilion, where she was sure she could make out her father in his maroon cloak, conversing with some other gentlemen who had attended the match, most of them part of the club committee.
“Besides,” she said with a slight shrug, hoping that her mother wouldn’t read through her intentions, “I have not yet met all of the club members. There are possibly a few younger ones who could make a good match.”
Her mother eyed her, likely correctly guessing that Lily was trying to manipulate her, but overall, her suggestion was compelling enough for her mother to agree.
“Very well,” she said before lifting a finger and pointing it toward Lily with a stern look. “You walk straight to your father. Do not deviate. And return here immediately afterward.”
“Of course,” Lily said, stepping down from the carriage before her mother could change her mind, Emmaline following after her.
“I cannot believe that worked!” Emmaline said in a hushed voice as they hurried away. “I thought your mother would see right through your excuse.”
“The key with my mother is knowing exactly what will move her,” Lily said with a proud smile. “But the truth is, she can see us, so we do not have much choice but to do as we are supposed to.”
“Would we ever do otherwise?” Emmaline asked with an innocent gaze as they walked toward the pavilion, James falling into step behind them.
They were nearly at her father’s position, Lily’s eyes still upon him, when Emmaline grabbed her arm, trying to wrench her backward as a door swung open and a long line of tall, strong men walked out of a building that Lily soon realized was a bathhouse.
But Emmaline was too late.
