Page 24 of The Duke of Desire
She’d also tried that. But he was too attentive and too gregarious and too…omnipresent.
Shouting from the shuttlecock court drew Ivy’s attention. She couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, but Townsend was rushing toward his opponent, wielding his racquet like a weapon.
Emmaline gasped as she jumped to her feet, her eyes glued to the court.
Ivy stood with her, anxious. She looked back to the ruckus and saw Townsend swing. But his racquet didn’t connect with his opponent. Clare dove on top of him, crushing him to the ground as if he were a rabid dog.
Now it was Ivy’s turn to gasp. She didn’t think anyone noticed since everyone else was either gasping themselves or moving toward the court.
Emmaline pushed her way through the blankets of people to get to the front. Ivy automatically followed her. A row of men in front of them partially blocked their view. Emmaline squeezed her way in and forced an opening.
Clare and Townsend were on their feet now, with Clare holding Townsend back with assistance from Axbridge. Townsend’s opponent, an older but rather agile fellow, glared at him. He held his racquet with both hands in front of him in a defensive posture.
Ivy moved in next to Emmaline. “What happened?”
Emmaline didn’t take her eyes from Townsend. “I’m not sure, but Geoffrey, er, Townsend, felt slighted somehow, I believe. I think Pippin was taunting him.”
Lord Wendover spoke briefly to Pippin before moving to Townsend. He spoke quietly so that no one could possibly hear, though Ivy noted that people were physically straining themselves to do so.
Townsend shook off Clare and Axbridge—who clearly let him, because Ivy was certain he wouldn’t have been able to get away from them otherwise—and waved his racquet at Pippin. “Next time there won’t be a crowd of people here to defend you!”
Clare snatched the racquet from his grip, and Townsend turned a blistering glare on him before stalking toward the house.
It seemed the entire crowd pivoted en masse to watch him ascend the steps to the terrace and disappear into the drawing room.
“I must go after him,” Emmaline said, taking a step.
Ivy touched her arm lightly but firmly. “You can’t. Anyway, he needs to regain his wits.”
Emmaline sent her an indignant stare. “He didn’t lose them.”
“I only meant that he needs to calm down. Surely you can see that.”
Emmaline exhaled, and her frame seemed to wilt. “I just want to make sure he’s all right.”
“You’ll be able to do that. Later. Everyone is watching now. It’s one thing to flirt with him and another to dash after him.”
“Of course you’re right.” She looked after him, and Ivy recognized the longing in her gaze. Oh, Emmaline was beyond smitten.
Mr. and Mrs. Forth-Hodges approached them. “Emmaline, dear. Why don’t you come sit with us?” Mrs. Forth-Hodges asked as her husband glanced worriedly toward the house.
“That’s an excellent idea,” Ivy said, giving Emmaline an encouraging smile. She might not smile often, but a moment like this required it.
Emmaline nodded and was ushered off by her parents.
“I think that will conclude the shuttlecock tournament for today,” Lord Wendover called out. “For those who are interested, we’ll set up some entertainments in the drawing room.”
Ivy was strangely disappointed. She’d been looking forward to watching Clare play. It gave her an excellent reason to stare at him unabashedly for quite some time.
Hiding a scowl, she returned to the blankets and found Lady Dunn.
“My goodness, such excitement!” the viscountess exclaimed. “Did you hear what happened?”
“Not really.”
“Oh, come now, you were with Miss Forth-Hodges. Surely she knows what happened. She was watching the match like a falcon tracks its prey.”
Lady Dunn wanted to hear the gossip of course, and Ivy knew it was her duty to oblige. “It was something to do with Pippin perhaps taunting Townsend. I truly don’t know the particulars.”
