“Three wickets in one shot!” roared Felix, throwing his hands in the air triumphantly.
The red team roared in response, the gentlemen turning to Sarah to give impressed congratulations. Lady Margaret gave her an approving nod. Even the other team was impressed. Sarah looked directly at Charles, who had the grace to flush.
“Our star player,” Felix said. “I bow to your mastery of the game.” He swept a smiling bow and Sarah curtsied prettily in return.
“My prowess comes from the team, not alone,” she said.
From there, it was an easy win for the red team. The dithering lady on the blue team set them back four strokes on the last wicket, and the damage could not be repaired for them.
Lord Cunningham called to Mrs. Beeton, “Champagne for our winners! And I suppose I shall need some musical accompaniment to be prepared this afternoon for my performance.”
Felix was clapping each member of his team on the back, shaking hands and offering compliments. Sarah had drifted back, but seeing this, she wanted to be standing along with the rest of the team, in line to be congratulated and perhaps even touched by Felix. Even a small touch on the arm, just the chance to be close to him, had her heart speeding up.
She moved quickly across the grass, wanting to place herself perfectly before he could make it through the other four members of the team.
But in her haste to position herself, with eyes only for Felix moving from person to person, she failed to keep an eye on where she was putting her feet.
Her foot snagged in one of the wickets, and apparently it had been very sturdily placed, because instead of lifting free immediately so that she would only stumble a bit and then catch herself, it stayed rooted in the ground.
Her foot wedged within, she flailed desperately to keep her balance, but her quick forward momentum made that impossible and she fell hard to the ground, smacking her head on a small rock buried in the grass.
As she crumpled to the grass, she did not feel any pain at all at first, only thick waves of mortification and a hope that perhaps she could quickly pop back up and no one would have noticed. The sharp cries and quick movement to surround her proved her hope was in vain.
“Miss Marlow!” Felix had arrived first. “Are you all right?”
He crouched down beside her as Lord Cunningham shooed the onlookers. “Give the lady some space. Please, enjoy a refreshment. All will be well.”
Sarah was incredibly grateful to have those eyes off of her.
“Felix, I’m sending someone to clear a room for her. Can you move her into the house?”
“Yes.”
Sarah struggled to sit up. “I’m fine, really. I can walk on my own.”
Felix put a warm hand to her shoulder. “You’re bleeding,” he said, sounding concerned. He called a servant for a handkerchief, which he placed gently against her temple.
Sarah sagged in humiliation as Felix lifted her from the ground, his strong arms making her feel as light as a feather. Her head had begun to throb, a sharp, insistent pain on the spot where she had hit the rock, and her ankle felt as if it might be hurt as well.
As he moved inside, however, her humiliation faded. Here she was, in the arms of the gentleman, when only a few moments before the most she had hoped for was a touch on the shoulder. Under the guise of feeling weak, she moved her head against his chest.
It was solid, strong, and even through his morning coat, she could feel the firm flesh beneath. A thrill shot through her heart.
So this is what it feels like to be in Felix’s arms.
Suddenly, she didn’t feel the pain in her head or ankle anymore, feeling only the strength of his arms, the shape of his chest, and his breath tickling her hair as he carried her effortlessly through the halls.
“Here,” Lord Cunningham said, gesturing to a room with an open door. Sarah knew it to be their guest room, having stayed in it herself once or twice for longer visits, particularly after George had been born.
Felix crossed the room and laid her gently on top of the counterpane. It was a large, luxurious bed, made of heavy wood with fine detail. She sat up against the pillow.
“I’m here!” Juliet rushed through the door. “Oh, Sarah, whatever happened? I was off with baby George and didn’t see the commotion, they’ve only just told me.”
She came to her side quickly, putting a hand against Sarah’s head, her face concerned.
“I’m fine,” Sarah said, rolling her ankle experimentally. She really did feel fine. In the cool quiet of the room, it felt clear that only her pride had taken a true blow.
“Your head and your ankle?” Juliet asked, catching the motion.
