Page 53 of Nothing But a Rakehell
Tensford glanced at Keswick. “Oh, well, I—”
“Come, come! I know you just want to scurry off and muck about with your great, stone fish, but this is important.” She glanced at Keswick. “You sir! You may make yourself useful in the meantime. Lady Glory needs a partner if she is to join the croquet match those two are starting up.”
The first game had finished at last. Miss Ruddock and Mr. Lycett were collecting balls from the players.
Keswick looked startled. “Oh, I had planned—”
“Go on, sir. Take the girl over there before she’s left out again.”
Keswick’s expression tightened.
Coming to a decision, Glory stood. She needed to learn more, to get a deeper measure of the man without forcing him to run off or to reject her completely. “Thank you, Keswick. I was hoping to play. With only four of us paired off, the game should go quickly.” She listed off balance, just a bit, but it was nothing to do with her leg and everything to do with how close he stood and how the smell of bay was taking her back to that wooded path.
Swallowing, she gave him an even, slight smile. “The mallets are here.” She led the way, grateful that she still wore her habit. The color suited her and gave her confidence, even as the heavier fabric did the best job of hiding her limp.
It was a chance. They would be apart from most of the others, but still on display. Paired off with their opponents, but perhaps with a few moments alone. Squaring her shoulders, she vowed to take Miss Myland’s advice and work to get what she wanted—as soon as she decided just what that was.
* * *
Keswick gavehis friend a look of resignation and followed Glory. He’d successfully avoided her for just over twenty-four hours—which was likely the limit for an event like this one.
He didn’t know how to act. He’d never dallied with an innocent before—and he was beginning to see the wisdom of it. She looked so vibrant in her stylish habit, so proper and sweet, as if she’d just been pushed out of the finishing school door. But yesterday he’d held her against a tree and kissed her until they were both nearly senseless. He’d pinched her nipple and made her gasp. He’d pressed his erection into her hand. And now he was supposed to walk tamely beside her and play croquet? When all he wanted to do was grab her up, lay her out on the grass and nip and lick and rip and plunge until they both cried out in completion?
Damn it all to hell.
He dragged a hand through his hair and forced his mind to tamer ground.
“I’m first to go!” Miss Ruddock held up her blue ball and frolicked to her starting point. She made her first hoop and the rest of them followed, using her ball to their own advantage and moving ahead.
“Oh, dear, the gentlemen have already outstripped us, Lady Glory.” Miss Ruddock practically skipped up to her ball. He wondered if she was deliberately trying to set herself apart from Glory’s slow and careful movements. The girl took her turn, but still found herself behind, after she took aim at Glory’s ball and missed.
“Oh, this is going to quickly turn into the most boring of routs if we don’t do something to distract the men,” she said with a pout.
Lycett had moved so far ahead he had to come back to take part in the conversation. “Perhaps you should show a little ankle,” he suggested.
Keswick’s heart started to beat faster at the image that rose—Glory sliding her skirts just up, just a teasing inch or two—and then he froze as he realized—and looked to find her rising color was from defiant embarrassment instead of titillation. Damn that Lycett!
“Do not let my mother hear you suggest such a thing, sir!” Miss Ruddock’s giggle ruined her attempt to appear shocked. “I know! Let’s play the question game as we go along!”
“I don’t know that game,” Glory admitted.
Keswick rather thought Miss Ruddock had only just made it up.
“It’s easy for everyone! I’ll ask a question—asuitablequestion—and everyone answers. If you cannot or will not, then you must choose the next question—and it’s harder than it seems to come up with them!”
“Perfect!” Lycett declared. “I shall wiggle out all of your secrets, Miss Ruddock.”
Keswick had to fight to keep his last meal from wiggling out onto the course.
“Very well then. First, we shall all share our favorite color.” She nodded toward her ball. “I’m well known for my propensity for blue!”
“Hazel!” Lycett declared. “Just the exact color of your eyes, Miss Ruddock.”
“Chestnut,” Glory declared and Keswick had to laugh out loud at that.
They all turned to him.
He blanched. “I’m not sure I’ve ever thought about it.”
