Page 54 of Nothing But a Rakehell
“Choose one or offer up the next question,” Miss Ruddock said in a singsong tone.
He stared at Glory.
Are you furious with me and too polite to show it?
Do you recall the feel of my hand on your naked breast?
Is your belly churning with the desire to start it all again—and take it further, higher, still?
“Green,” he said quickly. “Green like the grass of my mother’s home in Ireland.”
They played on and reached the first stake, at the far end of the course. A great plane tree stood nearby, double-trunked and spreading out over the incline that led to the hill and the plateau below. A gorgeous, stone staircase led down to the green, which had been set up with a net for battledore.
Miss Ruddock, having asked after their favorite artists and number of siblings, called for their attention. “Now, you must tell me what was the last game you played, before this one. The last one that wasnotcards or billiards,” she said pointedly to Lycett.
“Spillikens,” he said promptly. “With my nephew.”
“Chess,” said Glory.
“Mine was lawn bowling,” Miss Ruddock said with a sigh. “I enjoy that so much more than croquet.”
Again, they all looked to Keswick and he strained to think, to find an answer before his brainbox headed down dangerous roads again. When was the last time he’d played anything other than a hand of cards? Ah. Yes. “Street Sweepstakes,” he announced.
They all continued to look, wearing identical blank expressions.
“Well, now you must explain,” Miss Ruddock declared.
Glory watched him thoughtfully. “Yes, please do.”
“It’s nothing. Just a made-up lark.” He shrugged. “I bet a young street sweeper that I could finish my corner quicker and cleaner than hers.”
Lycett looked slightly scandalized. “What did she have to do when she lost?”
“Nothing. She won. I gave her a crown. That was the bet.”
“That doesn’t sound at all enjoyable,” Miss Ruddock declared.
Glory said nothing, but she watched him very closely. He stared back, fighting to show no emotion at all.
“Oh, dear, look what I’ve done,” Lycett said suddenly. They all turned to see two balls rolling down the incline. “How unfortunate. I’ve knocked both your ball, Miss Ruddock, and my own, a bit too hard.” As they watched, the balls picked up speed and went over the edge of the hill.
Miss Ruddock’s eyes grew huge with distress. “Oh, no! How could you have done so?” She turned on him in reprimand. “Will we have to cancel the game?”
“No, no. We shall just have to go down there and look for them.”
“Oh!” Sudden understanding dawned on the girl’s face. She looked around to see if her mother had returned. “We cannot leave them lost, can we? Lady Glory, I’m sure your leg will not tolerate that sharp incline very well. Why don’t you and Lord Keswick stay here while we search? We’ll be right back, I’m sure.”
“Perhaps not,” Lycett corrected her cheerfully. “Who knows where the balls might be hiding underneath all of that ground cover?”
“We’d better begin, then!”
Keswick snorted as the pair of them scampered down the stairs. “And we are meant to act as guards, I suppose. And after Lycett has acted such an ass. We should fetch her mama and fill her ears. T’would serve him right to be caught out.” He sighed. “Come, a couple of those branches are low enough for you to perch upon.”
But Glory merely moved closer to him, her eyes watching his face closely. He caught the first teasing tendril of her scent—lavender again, and fragrant tea and the slightest whiff of horse—and he had to fight the urge to lean in and fill his lungs.
“What happened to the girl, Keswick?”
“Nothing yet,” he said, moving away to peer down the hill. “Though she might ruin her hems, mucking about in there.”
