Page 9 of Wallflower Games: Lady Be Vengeful
“If a few of the gentlemen wouldn’t mind making the preparations.” She glanced downward. “We could divide into teams.”
“Teams?” Lord Clouston said.
She sensed she was losing them. “Yes, my lord, teams. We could have…flags of some sort. The objective is to collect the other team’s flag and be declared the winner.”
“What would the gentlemen need to do?” Lord Marlinton asked.
“Oh, you know, create the snowballs of course.We will need to be able to act quickly and sometimes stopping to create our ammunition will be time consuming. It will be beneficial, don’t you think, for us to have an armory for each team already built?”
They both stared at her as if she had lost her mind. Perhaps she had pushed them too far. Had she overplayed her hand?
“That is rather ingenious,” another man said. “I’ll even help build the armory.” She glanced up and met the Marquess of Ardmore’s gaze. “On one condition.”
She was almost afraid to ask. “And what is that, my lord?”
Emma was almost terrified of what his answer would be, but she had to ask. Those golden eyes of his kept her mesmerized and she was lost to them.
Blake had never been moreintrigued. What would this delightful wallflower gain by organizing a snowball fight, of all things? It would definitely keep the guests entertained. How would they determine the winner? Other than capturing the other team’sflag, that is. There had to be rules, and he would just bet the devious minx had something specific in mind.
But that was something he’d find out soon enough. First, he had to insert himself into her little plot. How else was he to discover the master plan? “I must be on the same team as you love,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to break any of the rules you set.”
She narrowed her gaze on him. Lord, she was lovely, especially when she wanted to say something she knew she shouldn’t. Emma gritted her teeth, and then her lips tilted upward into a devastating smile. It hit him right in the gut like a punch he couldn’t block. “Of course, my lord,” she said in a tone that was all sweet and compliant. As if she’d do anything she asked of him. He knew better. This woman was too clever by far and would never be led around like a willing slave. That was one of the things he liked about her.
“Then it’s settled,” he said in a firm tone. “I’ll gather some of the gentlemen,” he motioned toward the two fools she’d been manipulating. “Along with those two. Once we have the armories built, we can gather the rest of the guests to form teams.” He rubbed his hands together in glee. “This is going to be fun.”
"What will be fun?” came the voice of a lady from across the room
Blake turned and frowned. He didn’t recognize her. Hell, he didn’t know any of the ladies that were looking for a husband, and he didn’t want to become acquainted with this one either. This lady was a petite blonde, with bright blue eyes. She wasn’t nearly as beautiful as Emma. She seemed more…cold. Emma had more fire and would be far more passionate in bed. This chit—she’d be like sleeping with a block of ice. Blake had bedded enough women to recognize that in her.
“A snowball fight,” he told her. Then he smiled. She blinked at him several times. “Would you like to join us later this afternoon for the upcoming battle?”
“I don’t know…” She glanced at her friend. Blake followed her gaze. This girl was taller, but much plainer. She had dull brown hair and light brown eyes—almost mousy in appearance. But she had an air about her, a haughtiness that was unmistakable. Blake didn’t like her and he couldn’t quite explain why. “What do you think?”
“Yes,” Emma said. “What do you think, Miss Smythe?”
Interesting… Emma didn’t like these two. “Please say you’ll join us,” he said to the two ladies.
“I suppose we can,” Miss Smythe said.
“Wonderful,” Emma said. She was irritated, but she hid it well. He was starting to recognize her expressions.
“Pardon me,” he said. “But I don’t believe we are acquainted.” Blake tilted his lips into one of his wicked smiles. “I am Lord Ardmore.”
“I’m aware of who you are,” the lady said. She smiled back at him with interest. He’d have to stop being so charming less the chit got ideas. Ones he did not wish her to have. Blake had no interest in her. “I am Lady Arabella Jones.” She batted her eyelashes at her. “My father is the Earl of Galeton.”
As if that mattered. It didn’t. “Is he now?” He focused on the other girl. “And you’re Miss Smythe?”
“I am,” she said stiffly. Ah. This one couldn’t be charmed. “IamMiss Harriett Smythe.”
“And your father is?” Blake lifted a brow. The other girl had thought it important. Why had this one not offered up the information?
“Viscount Edmonton,” she said stiffly.
Ah. Her father was quite wealthy. Why was she reluctant to admit that connection? Had she been hounded by fortune hunters? Most likely. “I’m notacquainted with either of them.” He knew both well, but he wouldn’t admit as much. “Anyway…” He focused his attention back on Emma. “I believe me and the other gentlemen have a task to complete.”
You do,' Emma replied, her glare now fixed on him. His little minx hadn’t liked the attention he’d paid to the other two ladies. The more he learned, the more intrigued he became. “We will go over our rules once each fort is built properly. I look forward to the upcoming skirmish.”
“I do as well.” He held her gaze. Neither of them were speaking about the snowball fight. This was the battle brewing between them. So far he didn’t know what she had planned, but he had a feeling he now knew who she was plotting against. Each conversation brought a little more information his way, and Blake fully intended to win their wager. He even had an idea of what he would ask from her when he won. “Until later, my lady.” He bowed to her. Then he turned toward the other two gentlemen. “Shall we?”
