Miles crouched down next to his ball as he tried to decidehow to play his next shot. Should he send the ball through the arch or should he hit Bennett’s ball off course? He couldn’t quite decide what he should do. But he wanted to win this game of pall-mall. Not just so he could claim the first dance with Edwina at the soiree, but so he could knock that smug look off Bennett’s face.
At least that is what he kept telling himself.
He did want to dance with Edwina and hold her in his arms, even if it was just for a moment. He had longed to hold her again since they had embraced, an embrace that was merely an act of kindness for Edwina. But it had meant something to him. With every moment they spent together, he found himself becoming more bewitched by her beauty and her kindness.
As if sensing his inner turmoil, Edwina crouched down next to him, her delicate features illuminated by a halo of sunlight. “What is your play?” she asked softly.
Miles tore his gaze away from her and focused on the alley once more. But it was proving difficult when she was so close. “I’m not quite sure,” he replied. “At this angle, I could hit my ball through the arch, or I could knock Bennett’s ball out of the way, making his next shot much more difficult.”
“Whatever you think is best,” she encouraged.
“We are one point ahead, and I want to keep the lead,” Miles said.
Edwina nodded her understanding. “I want to win, as well, but it doesn’t seem like you are enjoying yourself.”
Miles forced a smile onto his lips. “I am,” he responded, but even he could hear the lack of genuine enthusiasm in his voice.
She didn’t look convinced by his lackluster effort. “If you say so…” Her words trailed off.
“I do,” he insisted.
Leaning closer, Edwina lowered her voice and said, “If this is about the dance…”
He spoke over her. “No, it is about beating Bennett,” he lied. It was so much more than just beating Bennett. He wanted that first dance with her.
“Oh,” Edwina responded, the hurt evident in her tone.
Miles felt like a muttonhead for treating Edwina so poorly. But he couldn’t risk revealing his true feelings and potentially ruining everything between them.
“Well, I wish you luck,” Edwina said before rising.
Miles rose with her. “Pall-mall is not purely a game of chance, but one of skill as well,” he stated.
“It is also meant to be enjoyable,” she pointed out with a teasing smile.
Bennett cleared his throat from where he stood back with Miss Bawden. “You two are doing an enormous amount of talking, but not enough playing,” he called out to them.
Miles nodded in acknowledgement and adjusted his grip on the mallet as he took his position by his ball. He focused on lining up his shot, blocking out all other distractions. With a steady swing, he hit the ball and watched it knock Bennett’s ball out of the way before going through the arch.
A smirk tugged at Miles’ lips as he turned to face Bennett. “Good luck winning now,” he declared.
As his words left his mouth, Edwina shouted, “Winston!”
Miles turned his head and saw Lord Winston approaching. His dark hair was brushed forward and there was a warm smile on his face as he held out his arms for Edwina.
Keeping hold of his mallet, Miles made his way over to Winston and greeted him. “It is good to see you. It has been far too long.”
Winston’s smile widened. “Yes, it has,” he agreed. “Last I heard you were off saving the world on the Continent.”
Miles chuckled wryly. “I didn’t do much saving, but I was on the Continent,” he corrected.
“Yes, but now you can enact real change in the House of Lords,” Winston said. “Those stuffy lords would be fools ifthey didn’t take advantage of your youth and unique perspective.”
As soon as Bennett and Miss Bawden joined him, Winston’s smile faltered. His expression turned stoic as he addressed Miss Bawden. “It is good to see you again, Miss Bawden,” he said curtly.
Miss Bawden responded with a graceful curtsy, her voice matching the same tone as Winston’s. “My lord,” she murmured.
Edwina chimed in, drawing Winston’s attention. “Did you hear your mother plans to throw a soiree?”
