‘Oh. Uh – you, Your Majesty. And your phenomenal croquet—’
There was akathunkas Jest sent his hedgehog rolling towards wide-open grass . . . at least it was wide open until all three of the absent Clubs raced over and threw themselves into arches just in time for the hedgehog to roll beneath them.
‘– skills,’ Cath finished, glowering.
The King sighed, looking equally deflated. ‘Well, it does seem that I’m outmatched.’
After three continuous swings, Jest had got his hedgehog nearly to the end of the course. One more half-decent play would hand him the win, for sure. He drifted leisurely towards his hedgehog, swinging the flamingo back and forth like a pendulum.
‘Well done, Jest,’ called the King.
‘Thank you muchly, Your Majesty.’
Clenching her teeth, Cath hauled her flamingo towards her own hedgehog, a bout of stubborn determination burning through her limbs. Never had she considered herself a competitive person, but this – this was different.
This felt oddly personal.
After just one meeting, the Joker had infiltrated her dreams and overtaken her every waking thought. She’d even worked him into her bakery fantasy, though she would never admit that to anyone, especially now that she knew Jest would just as soon see her married to the King.
He was naught but a flirtatious louse, and she’d fallen deeper with every rakish smile. What a fine joke she must have made for his amusement.
Howdarehe?
She took up her place beside her hedgehog and surveyed the course. The hedgehog and flamingo both watched her, waiting, as she looked from the arched cards – a few of which had fallen flat in exhaustion while they waited – to the rover hoop, the final goal. To all the opposing hedgehogs scattered haphazardly around the course, their players chasing after them or screaming at their uncooperative flamingos.
To Jest, strolling across the grass.
She narrowed her eyes and widened her stance, lowering the flamingo’s head to the ground. The hedgehog rolled up.
‘If you fail me,’ she whispered to the flamingo, ‘I will wrap your neck around a tree trunk and tie it in a pretty pink bow and leave you there until one of the gardeners finds you.’
The flamingo cautiously curled its neck to look at her from upside down. ‘Ah like purty pink bows.’
She gave an annoyed shake and it straightened out again.
She pulled the flamingo back, pinned her eye to the hedgehog –
and swung
hard.
It was a picture-perfect croquet, knocking into Jest’s hedgehog moments before he swung for it. Startled, Jest leaped back, and his hedgehog rolled right beneath his feet and bounded and bounced wildly off course.
He blinked up, meeting Cath’s gaze across the lawn.
She grinned at him, pleased at Jest’s flabbergasted expression, and gave her flamingo a twirl. She’d all but handed the win to the King.
‘Well, dash it all,’ she said, feigning innocence.
Pleased, she strolled off the court and stuck her flamingo’s feet into the soft dirt before heading towards the tables. With that excellent play, she felt she’d earned some cake and a nice cup of tea.
CHAPTER 14
‘WHY IS THEREso much pepper in this soup?’ the Marchioness complained, pushing back her bowl. ‘It’s hardly edible.’
‘I’m sorry, my lady,’ said Abigail, whisking the offensive dish away. ‘It was a new recipe – I believe the Duke of Tuskany gave it to us, a speciality of his own cook’s making.’
The Marchioness wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s a miracle he hasn’t starved.’ She straightened the napkin in her lap while Catherine and her father sipped at their own soups without complaint.