Page 3 of Wedded to the Forbidden Duke
“Yes, with my aunt. She has a great many friends across the Continent and wanted to see them all. We went to Paris, Nice, Venice, Athens…”
“You don’t say! That mirrors our itinerary very near exactly!” he exclaimed. “You say you have only just returned?”
“Yes, a few days ago. From Greece.”
“Ah, that explains it. We began in Greece; I’d imagine our travels went in rather opposite directions.”
“Still, it is a wonder our paths never crossed,” Nancy said. “Not even in the middle! I suppose fate wished to keep us firmly apart.”
“Or perhaps we were merely meant to meet here, in London.”
Nancy looked up at this, right at the very moment she swung her mallet. The ball careened wildly off the path, and her cheeks went even pinker than usual.
“Oh, dear,” she lamented. “I am not very gifted at pall-mall at the best of times, and yet I seem to be playing worse than ever.” She looked over at Zachary, shy. “You must not think too poorly of me, my lord.”
“How could I?” With a gentle click of his mallet, Zachary hit his ball—so that it landed right beside Nancy’s. He nodded towards them. “There. It seems we are now on equal footing. Let us retrieve them together, and then I would be more than happy to assist you with your swing.”
She smiled, and nodded, taking the arm he offered and allowing him to walk her down the field. “I would like that very much.”
From a bit away, Ian observed the two of them—and, more intriguingly, watched Lady Cecilia observing the two of them.
Although, most infuriatingly, her observations were punctuated by her dedication to whipping him soundly at pall-mall.
“Hah!” Lady Cecilia jumped in glee as her ball went perfectly through yet another arch. Clapping her hands together, she turned to Ian with an unrelentingly smug expression, and a playful, mocking curtsy. “Your turn, Your Grace.”
Ian followed suit, though his ball hit the arch just on the corner. He groaned. “Not again.”
Cecilia smiled. With her fair complexion and golden hair lit by the sun, she looked bright as a sunflower, and moved just as gracefully, as she easily knocked her ball towards another arch. “You know, with all your earlier talk of mallets, I wasn’t anticipating such a swift and easy victory.”
“You have not won yet, Lady Cecilia.” He knocked the ball again, repositioning it in front of the missed arch. “And I am afraid I am a bit…distracted, today. Under normal circumstances, I think we both know the swift victory would be mine.”
“I know no such thing,” she said coolly. “And I certainly do not see what there is here for you to be distracted by. Nothing but sun, and lawn, and friendly competition.”
“Ah, yes,” he observed dryly. “Very friendly.”
She chuckled. “Unless, of course, you merely find yourself bored by the lack of disreputable activities to be found?”
“Disreputable activities?” His eyebrows lifted. “Why, Lady Cecilia, I haven’t the faintest idea what on Earth you could be referring to.”
“No gambling, for a start. And—” She sighed. “Oh, I do not know. Whatever other shameful activities you supposed gentlemen get up to while roaming across the continent.”
“Is that all?” He chuckled and walked around to stop in front of her, blocking her shot and prompting a glare. “Please, do go on. I am most curious to hear what the young ladies of London consider to be shameful activities.”
“I am certain you are.” She swept around him to make her next swing. “Likewise, I also have no doubt you did your best to drag my brother towards your way of thinking.”
“There wasn’t much dragging involved, Lady Cecilia,” he said, following her across the lawn. “Nor anything I feel ashamed about in the slightest. I believe your brother would agree with me. It is perfectly natural for a young gentleman to wish to seethe world beyond his backyard, particularly before he is shackled to the altar.”
She stopped and spun to face him. “Shackled! Is that really how you think of marriage?”
“I’d imagine it is how most men think of marriage.”
She scoffed. “I have known plenty of men who would say otherwise.”
“Oh, I would not say that in front of your mother. Or your brother, for that matter.”
“You know perfectly well that is not what I meant.”
“I know no such thing,” he said, mimicking her tone from before. “Fear not, Lady Cecilia. I would never presume anything against your spotless reputation. Though I am curious to hear the names of these supposed paragons of virtue. I shall eat my mallet if you could name even one man of thetonwho awaits married life with anything but a sense of duty.”
