Page 3 of The Hellion and the Captain
“The boy’s got skill,” Tommy mused. “But it’s almost like…” He tapped his finger on his chin.
“Like he’s rusty,” Rhys finally settled on.
“That’s it,” Colin said, pointing a finger toward him. “Would be good to know what’s kept him out of football, as it’s clearly been some time. Where does he come from? What’s his story?”
“Does it matter?” Tommy asked, looking from one of them to the other. “We’ve all got a story.”
Milton, the bartender, appeared with another drink for Tommy.
“Milton, you know everyone around here,” Tommy said.
Milton nodded and waited.
“Do you know an Emmett Williams? A football player. Young. Clean-shaven. Dark hair, I think, but I haven’t seen him without a cap. Pale skin.”
Perhaps that was it. The man was pale for a footballer. Most spent so much time in the sun that it showed on their faces.
Milton scratched his head. “Can’t say I do. And I remember most names and faces around here.”
“Well, if you hear or see of him, do let us know.”
“Where was he tonight?” Rhys asked suddenly.
“You mean, why didn’t he come for a drink?” Colin said.
“Yes.”
“Saw him leaving the field without speaking to any of the other men.”
“Hmm,” Rhys said again, taking a last sip of his ale, refusing Milton’s offer to refill it.
“That’s it?” Tommy said. “That’s all you’re going to say about him?”
“I’m thinking,” Rhys said, sending an annoyed look his way.
“Of course you are,” Tommy said, leaning back against the seat. “Always thinking.”
“Better than always talking,” Rhys muttered, causing both Colin and Tommy to let out laughs that nearly caused the ale to fly out of their mouths and across the table.
He just needed to finalize his team. They had space for one more. It was going to be a good season. Rhys could feel it in his bones.
He wasn’t sure whether or not Emmett Williams would be a part of it.
But they would soon find out.
Chapter Two
“Oh, Lily, this looks beautiful. You have truly made this space your own,” Emmaline said as she stepped into her friend’s drawing room, instantly cheered by the comfortable and intimate atmosphere.
Once Lily’s father had finally accepted that she would marry Colin, whether he liked it or not, he had gifted his only child the dower house at the edge of his property in Ellesmere Park. While it wasn’t far from where most of the mill workers lived in Salford, it was another neighborhood altogether, housing some of the most affluent of Manchester. Colin’s mother and youngest sister also lived with them, but they had their own rooms on the top floor of the house, and Colin’s mother spent a great deal of time with Mrs. O’Connor, Lord and Lady Harcourt’s cook, who had been like a second mother to Lily.
Colin’s mother and sister were not in residence tonight, having decided to spend some time with Colin’s other sister, Diane, in her home in Marshton, where she had taken a teaching job.
The ornate chandeliers cast a warm, golden light around the room, while intricate shadows danced on the floral wallpaper.
Emmaline and Lily walked together over the soft carpet to one of the dark blue couches across the room, in front of plush velvet drapes framing the windows, which added a touch of elegance to the space.
“Thank you for coming early,” Lily said, gripping Emmaline’s hand tightly, the only sign of her nervousness. “I am not sure what to expect tonight.”
