Page 31 of A Rogue's Rules for Seduction
Willa sat back, frowning, and Dom did the same. They were both stunned, and many people gave them curious stares.
He and Willa weren’t alone. For a few moments,it had felt that way. Before, during their courtship, and then when they’d been engaged, they’d both been on a stage, acting before the eyes of the ton.
Now was different. The rest of the world was merely a gray, cold blur, with Willa the only source of color and heat.
Kieran asked cheerfully, “From what, exactly, is my sister going to emerge triumphant?”
“You’ll soon discover once you finish your breakfasts,” Longbridge commanded, “and come meet me outside on the east lawn.” With that, their host strolled out of the breakfast room, whistling a tune that Dom recalled had absolutely filthy lyrics.
Everyone resumed their meal, the other guests excitedly debating over sips of tea and bites of bacon what Longbridge had in store for them.
Dom had no idea what was next for him and Willa, yet he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it.
“This isn’t going to be an ordinary game of shuttlecock,” Longbridge announced as the guests gathered on a broad expanse of grass.
Servants handed out rackets and the aforementioned shuttlecocks to those who chose to play. The rest of the guests, including Finn, Tabitha, Mrs. McDaniel, and Baron Hunsdon, lounged on chairs that hale footmen had carried out, with a variety of refreshments arranged on platters on wrought iron tables.
“You chose this game because of its name,” Dom said, folding his arms across his chest.
“Naturally, I did,” their host said with a smile.
“The more often we say the wordcock, the better,” Willa said, which startled a laugh out of Dom.
Even to his own ears, his laughter was a strange sound, like a rusted bridge seldom lowered, and it earned him a few startled glances from the others. But Willa looked satisfied.
“What are the rules?” Kieran asked as he shielded his eyes against the bright sunlight.
“As if you do anything but break them,” Finn called, earning him a rude hand gesture from his brother.
“He isn’t wrong, my love,” Celeste noted. She spun her racket in her hand.
“The rules,” Longbridge said doggedly, “are as follows. We’ll break into teams of two. The winning team is the first pair to reach one hundred successful volleys of the shuttlecock.”
Dom scratched his jaw, unmoved by this feat. “Easy enough.”
“Except,” Longbridge added, “once each team reaches five and twenty volleys, they’ll have to stop and sing ‘The Maid’s Complaint for Want of a Dil Doul.’”
Tittering and a few lusty chuckles followed this announcement, but Dom only shook his head. “At the top of our lungs, right?”
“The louder the better,” their host said with a smirk.
“I’ll deafen everyone on the next island,” Willa sniffed, tipping up her chin.
Dom looked at her proudly. Naturally, she’d face everything thrown at her.
“And sing ‘The Lusty Young Smith’ at fifty volleys,” Kieran guessed.
Another smirk crossed Longbridge’s face. “You’ll learn your fateifyou can make it to fifty volleys. And five and seventy.”
“What prize awaits the winners?” asked Lady Shipton, posing prettily with her racket. “Something suitably luxurious, I hope.”
“Besting everyone will satisfy me,” Willa said loftily.
Dom chuckled.
“The winners will receive a rare bottle of wine from my own cellars,” Longbridge declared.
At that, everyone cried out in eager anticipation. God—that wine had to be valuable, and too costly to drink.
