She held up four fingers. “Fourth word.”
She smiled and nodded. Luke watched as she began to wave her arms around, looking somewhat like a lunatic. Voices called out their guesses but she shook her head. Then she began to mime roaring.
“Wild?” Luke found himself calling out to his own surprise.
“You are not on her team!” hissed Lord Peter. “Do not guess!”
Miss Pembleton’s head snapped towards him, but she nodded. Then she up five fingers.The fifth word.She dropped to herhands and knees, and began to throw her head back and forth. She reminded him of a horse.
“Horse!” yelled a voice.
Miss Pembleton nodded enthusiastically. Then she stood and looked pensive. She held up two fingers, signalling that it was the second word.
She began to mime throwing a rope, and tugging it hard. Luke frowned, watching as the woman struggled with an invisible creature. Miss Pembleton threw herself into the charade with no embarrassment. He found himself smiling as he watched her.
That damned wine.A voice called out, “to tame a wild horse!”
Miss Pembleton stopped miming and turned to the voice, indicating that they were right.
“That is a point for us!” called Duchess Emberly happily.
“Duke Warren!” Duke Emberly called. “Now it is your turn to give Emily a prompt.”
“I am to whisper in Miss Pembleton’s ear?” Luke felt panic seize him. “I cannot do that.”
The thought being so close to her that he could breathe her in, or feel the heat emanating from her body...Absolutely not.
“But you must!” Duchess Emberly indicated the sand timer on the table. “Preferably before time runs out, or I shall have to accuse you of cheating.”
“Rose!” Duke Emberly shook his head at his wife.
“I shall write it.” Luke announced. “Perhaps you might lend me pen and paper?”
A look crossed Miss Pembleton’s face, and for a moment, he was sure it had been panic, but when he looked back at her, the expression was one of impatience.
Hastily he scrawled ‘To Ingratiate a Bluestocking.’
He moved towards her and as he handed the slip of paper to Miss Pembleton the smell of earth and lavender washed over him. He inhaled, colouring when Miss Pembleton looked at him.It matches the colours of her voice.
The thought made a moment of panic flare within him. He had not thought about the odd patterns for years. He hastily moved away. She glanced at the paper in her hand, frowned and then looked at him.
She pursed her lips and then held up four fingers. Then a second finger. And began acting as though she were drunk. Luke frowned.What is she playing at?
“Drunk?” someone called.
To his surprise, Miss Pembleton nodded. He wanted to say that that was not what he had written, but that would have been improper and unkind. Instead, he bit his tongue.
Clearly, she had decided to ignore his prompt. He could only assume she meant it as some kind of slight. He frowned at her. Perhaps this was just something she did? Maybe he could ask someone?
No, that was ridiculous. He shook his head, but as the evening progressed and they played more rounds of charades, Miss Pembleton kept doing the same thing. Sometimes she would act a word or two from his initial suggestion, but more often than not the entire phrase would be different.
If she wants to play games, so be it. She has already shown how childish she can be, and I do not need to engage with such behaviour.
As he lay in his bed later that night, he found himself replaying the evening in his head. “What on Earth does it mean? And why can I not stop thinking about it?”
He scowled and drew the covers around him. “Let her play her silly little games. I do not care. It is beneath me. Games are not going to endear me to her cause.”
I am simply trying to show you the dangers of an excess of propriety.Unbidden he smiled, and then scowled. Wretched woman. The sooner they left this place, the better. All he needed to do was get through the next fortnight.
