Page 40 of A Game with the Rakish Duke
They set off towards the lawn where the croquet was being held. Catherine could feel her husband’s eyes on them as they walked away. She felt a flash of anger.
Let him talk with the beautiful Lady Isabella. It was no concern of hers what he did, was it?
Chapter Nineteen
“It says that we must follow the spear-headed path,” Catherine slowly said, frowning as she gazed down at the note in her hand. “Can you see such path, Oliver?”
Her brother put a hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes against the sun. “I really have no idea.” he sighed. “I have always despised treasure hunts. It is such a juvenile game. Why must people insist on playing them at garden parties?”
“Oh, do not be so grumpy, Oliver,” Catherine teased. “You are a gambler after all. There shall be a prize for the winning team. Where is your competitive spirit?”
Oliver laughed. “Well, if you put it that way.” He took a deep breath, gazing around the grounds more thoroughly. “I still cannot see any path that resembles a spear. Should we split up to look and convene at that statue over there in five minutes?” He pointed into the near distance.
Catherine sighed but nodded. “That is probably a good plan. The grounds are enormous, and I am not any more familiar with them than you, really.”
Oliver grinned. “Until we meet again.”
Catherine grinned back before setting off. She glanced back. Oliver was heading in the opposite direction, walking with determination. She was glad she had roused his competitive spirit, for she was determined that they would win this treasure hunt.
She headed into a part of the grounds with wide garden beds on either side and an overhanging canopy of trees. The air was lush with perfume from roses and lavender. For a moment, she got distracted looking at the flowers, admiring them before shaking herself and briskly setting off again.
Suddenly, she noticed a dark shadow spread across the lawn. She glanced up. Dark clouds were forming overhead, masking the sun. She frowned. It looked like a thunderstorm was on its way, but then she wasn’t familiar with the weather patterns in this part of the country. Maybe the clouds would simply move on or scatter. She grinned to herself.
The Dowager Duchess will not be pleased if her garden party is ruined by rain. That will certainly set the cat amongst the pigeons.
She laughed aloud. She really was becoming enormously fond of her husband’s grandmother, even if the old lady got giganticbees in her bonnet about things like trying to force Catherine to get pregnant through sheer will. The Dowager Duchess was as obstinate as a mule, but she meant well. Beneath the prickly façade, she had a soft heart. It just took a bit of effort to find it.
She is probably looking at those clouds now and thinking she can disperse them through the power of her thoughts.
Suddenly, Catherine stopped. Her eyes widened. There was a gigantic hedge maze just ahead of her, zigzagging for at least half a mile in either direction. Slowly, she smiled. She could never resist a maze—they were like a puzzle that must be solved. Without thinking, she headed towards it, her heart leaping.
It was cooler in the maze. She kept walking, touching the hedges with her hands, navigating her way. It was becoming narrower and more convoluted as she moved along it, randomly choosing another direction every few minutes, trying to get to the heart of it and out the other side.
Abruptly, she stopped, gazing around. She frowned, retracing her steps. She couldn’t seem to recall what direction she had come from. She jumped as a loud thunderclap sounded overheard. She squinted up at the sky which had darkened further.
It was going to start pouring soon—the garden party was about to disperse. Everyone would be running for cover.
Catherine took a deep breath, plunging onwards. The five minutes were up—Oliver would be wondering where on earthshe was. She had allowed herself to be distracted. Determinedly, she kept going.
She would have to find the way out soon. Wouldn’t she?
Thomas was heading towards the maze when he heard the loud thunderclap. He gazed up at the sky, rolling his eyes. His grandmother was going to be grumpy and tetchy the entire afternoon if her party was ruined by rain, but unfortunately, the weather was something even she couldn’t control. Not that she didn’t try.
He had caught a glimpse of Catherine as she had run into the maze, her white dress billowing behind her before she had vanished. He had told Kenneth, who was his partner on the treasure hunt, to continue on without him. Kenneth hadn’t minded, but his friend had made him promise that the prize would be his alone if he discovered it. Thomas had laughingly agreed, and Kenneth had disappeared with a cheery wave.
Thomas frowned as he headed into the maze. It was going to pour soon, and Catherine would be stuck in the rain and drenched if he didn’t get her back to the house before the storm started.
“Catherine!” he called as he took various paths. “Where are you?”
He stopped, listening intently. There was no reply. He felt a flash of irritation. They were both going to be caught in the storm if he didn’t find her soon. Knowing her, she was probably supremely confident she could discover the way out of this maze, but he knew through being lost in here since he was a boy that it was more difficult than it appeared.
He sighed heavily, heading down another path, thinking about her. She had been tetchy and aloof with him today; except for that time she had sidled over when he had been talking with Lady Isabella Lyndon, making a few odd comments before taking off again.
It was as clear as the nose on her delectable face that she thought he was flirting with the lady, but she would never admit it. He had tried to get her to admit she was a bit jealous the other night, but she had adamantly refused to even entertain the notion.
He sighed again. Despite what Catherine believed, he had no interest in Lady Isabella, despite her beauty and charm. And that was odd, for the lady was very much his type. But it was like he just couldn’t see another woman at the moment. His senses were utterly consumed with Catherine.
She was the only woman he could think about… and it seemed she was the only one he was destined to never have. The irony that he had married a lady who affected him this way while being denied access to her was not lost on him.
