Page 49 of The Duke's Unclaimed Bride
Laurence and James started as Lady Eliza, the hostess, called out, “May I have everyone’s attention, please? Lady Jane has had a wonderful idea! Why don’t we play a game of Pall Mall?”
Laurence grimaced inwardly. He knew many people here were competitive and would take aim at him in the name of sport.
“Why don’t we have a go?” James suggested, grinning.
“Not interested,” Laurence muttered.
“Are you certain, Your Grace?”
He whirled around, startled. Edith stood beside him, sunlight catching in her hair. He hadn’t even heard her approach.
“I—well?—”
“Or maybe you don’t want the ton to see your wife beat you?” she taunted, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Oh, this woman.
He caught the teasing curve of her mouth and the expectant stares around them.
Blast it.
“Fine,” he acquiesced. “One game.”
“Oh, this is going to be very entertaining,” James laughed and clapped him on the back.
Laurence growled softly. He was soon handed a mallet, and the players were led toward a dirt path where the metal hoops had been set up.
He glanced at the other players. Some seemed serious. Others were laughing together, focused on fun. The remainder only seemed interested in watching him and Edith.
“Why don’t you go first, Your Grace?” Lady Eliza asked Edith, who nodded.
She took up her place and scanned the length of the course.
Laurence watched her as she surveyed the scene. His eyes drifted down to her back. He had the sense to look back up at her head before others noticed.
Edith pulled back the mallet and hit the ball. It skidded down the path and came to rest near the hoop at the base.
“Good shot, Your Grace!” Lady Eliza praised, clapping her hands.
“I imagine it will be difficult to beat that,” someone behind Laurence murmured.
He sighed as he took his place and tapped the ball. It rolled down the path, almost leisurely. It gently tapped Edith’s ball out of the way, eliciting a few gasps.
Edith nodded. “Good shot,” she acknowledged, but he could see the steel in her eyes. He hadn’t known she was competitive.
Others took their shots, careful not to touch the Duke and Duchess’s balls.
Soon, it was Edith’s turn again. She tapped the ball, and it sped down the path, clashing into someone else’s. The other ball flew off the track and landed in the pond as hers slowed to a stop.
“Oh my!” Lady Eliza gasped.
“That looks like a winning ball,” someone grumbled.
“Will His Grace accept defeat at the hands of his wife?” someone whispered.
Laurence felt his eye twitch.
“It’s all right if you do not think you can best that shot,” Edith teased. “After all, it’s much better to handle defeat with grace.”
