*
Robert had sentBridges, Esme, and Fleur, Lady Holbrook’s maid, on ahead to The Castle in a separate carriage with the bulkof their luggage, so he was forced to undress and dress himself, but as he was trying to cultivate a casual and relaxed air with the Watsons, he was not too concerned about his appearance. Lady Holbrook had stayed at the Blue Boar today, nursing a headache.
The kissing session with Sarah necessitated a session later with his hand, and after attempts to avoid thinking of Sarah failed, he gave in and did think of her, in lewd detail. The sooner they were married the better.
Breakfast with the Watsons was as chaotic as supper, and afterward he found himself drawn into one of those backyard cricket matches Sarah had told him about. It was a fine day, perfect for a game, and memories from Eton came tumbling back. But those matches had been played entirely between teams of boys. It was a different experience to have teams half made up of girls and all with such a variety of ages. With six players a side, and three of the neighbor’s children joining the fray, he was appointed captain of one team and Sarah the other. So much for ducal dignity.
Sarah won the toss and elected to bat. Advancing to the crease with her bat, dressed in a plain cotton gown with her hair bundled up under her sun hat, she waited with the relaxed air of a veteran for him to bowl. He had to admire her sangfroid. His first impulse was to bowl wide so he would be sure to avoid hitting her—it felt wrong to pelt a ball at speed toward a defenseless woman—but it was obvious that Sarah expected him to throw the ball so she could hit it, and he had to assume she could.
With his team distributed around the field—they were playing on the open lot behind the vicarage—he wound up to bowl and launched the ball toward the wicket standing behind her.
She hit the ball square on with a crack and sent it flying to the trees.
“Run, Japh!” she shouted. She and Japheth made four runs while his team scrambled to retrieve the ball and get it to Emanuel, his wicket keeper.
Fronting up to the crease again, she grinned at him and said, “Didn’t think I could hit it, did you?”
Almost breathless with admiration, he made a recovery and retorted, “You’re on notice, Miss Watson. The Layne honor is at stake—watch your wicket!”
He kept her scoreless for the rest of the over, but by the time he managed to bowl her out, she’d scored twelve runs in total and Japh three. Mary replaced Sarah at the crease and proved almost as good as her sister. He surrendered the ball to Emanuel to let him get his brother out, and when little Zeke stepped up to bat, Sarah helped him. Once he’d got Mary out, the batting side collapsed, and they stopped for lunch.
Mrs. Watson brought out pies, sandwiches, and cake to feed the hoard under the trees, and he sat beside Sarah on a rug and tried to remember when he had enjoyed a morning more in his life. She was very different in her home surroundings. More relaxed and confident, happier. She smiled a great deal more and laughed a lot.
“You’re very good,” he said, toasting her with lemonade.
“Admit it, you were surprised I could hit the ball at all!” she teased.
“You’re right, I was. I will never underestimate you again.”
She smiled and was going to say something else when an argument between the boys distracted her.
“Japh, apologize, please.”
“But he took my piece of cake!”
“Emanuel?”
Emanuel sighed, rolling his eyes. “He wasn’t eating it!”
“I was saving it!”
“In that case, return his cake and you can both apologize.”
The boys obeyed her with a show of reluctance, and peace was restored.
She then spent the next several minutes ensuring all the children had their fair share of food and drink, that Mary put her hat back on to protect her complexion, and stopped Emanuel from pulling his twin, Hepzibah’s, hair.
He was conscious, lying on his side, propped on an elbow, of a very strong desire to pull her close and kiss her. It was impossible of course, but the impulse was distractingly difficult to shift. She had never appeared more attractive or desirable to him than she did in that moment, and he was reminded of Lannister’s description of her again with a pang.Vital and warm.She was that in abundance, and he’d not really seen it in London. The formality of theton, which he took for granted, stifled her natural vivacity.
The game was abandoned for the rest of the day because the elder girls had visits to make to parishioners and errands to run.
As he helped Sarah pack away the luncheon things, she said with a rueful smile, “I would normally be doing that, but Mama says I must stay and entertain you.”
“Of that I am very glad,” he said.
“Perhaps I can show you round the village?” she said, handing him the folded rugs to carry. “Littledon is not large.”
“I’d be delighted,” he said, happy for her to dispose of his day as she saw fit. As long as he got to spend it with her, he didn’t mind what they did.
