Esme crossed the lawn, a soft green gown swirling around her.Sunlight caught in the loose tendrils at her temples, and the curve of her mouth suggested she was trying very hard to be good.
“Woodmere looks murderous," Alexandra observed, trading her mallet for a glass of lemonade."That is always a promising sign."
"Be kind," Louisa said, though her eyes glinted."After all, he allowed Esme to attend, a remarkable lack of judgment on his part."
"Speaking of lack of judgment," Niall added, lightly elbowing James, "are you planning to stand here staring, or will you actually go greet the lady you've been thinking about every time we pass a pond?"
James did not dignify the question with an answer.
He had, in fact, been thinking about Esme rather too often.The memory of her in the Serpentine—shock-struck, then laughing—had lodged itself behind his ribs, as had the feel of her wrist in his hand, the slight tremor he'd felt before she found her footing.Her words afterward,Thank you.For holding on, visited him at inconvenient hours.
"Go," Louisa said, amusement warming her voice."Before my battledore tournament starts and you are recruited against your will."
Alexandra's eyes danced."Oh, I have plans for him and battledore.But I suppose you may have him for a few minutes, Esme permitting."
James crossed the lawn joining their group."Lady Woodmere.Viscount.Lady Esme.Miss Moreland.Foxmere's gardener deserves a title.I have seldom seen roses so determined to show off."
"Lord Redford, how kind of you to admire the landscaping," Lady Woodmere said.
"Every successful party depends on it."he winked."Without adequate foliage, where would one flirt?"
"Lord Redford," Woodmere said, civility laced with warning.
Esme's lips twitched."My lord."She inclined her head."I see you have recovered from your encounter with the Serpentine."
"Almost."His gaze lit with mischief."I still wake hearing the slap of outraged duck feet."
Genny choked on a laugh."It was a very menacing duck."
"Truly vicious," James agreed."If anyone asks, I shall say I flung myself into the water to defend your honor."
"From poultry?"Esme asked, lifting her brows.
"One must start somewhere," he said.
Her eyes danced.
"Lord Redford," Lady Woodmere said, "I trust you will remember that this is a society party and conduct yourself appropriately.No boating, if you please."
He stepped closer to Esme."I prefer my misadventures on dry land."
Woodmere’s gaze hardened."Let us hope there are none at all."
"Of course," James said."You have my word, Woodmere.No mischief that would reflect poorly on your sister.I am reformed.Temporarily."
Esme tilted her head."Reformed, Lord Redford?How distressingly dull."
He smiled slowly, roguishly."Only on the surface, Lady Esme.Underneath, I am as wicked as ever."
Genny fanned herself."Oh, good.I feared you had taken up knitting."
"Do not underestimate knitting," Esme murmured."Yarn is simply mischief in coiled form."
He chuckled.
Louisa swept up beside them."Lady Woodmere, Viscount, welcome.We are so pleased you could join us.Esme, Genny, do come and see the lawn games.We have convinced the Bishop of Rochester to referee the battledore matches.He's taking the role with alarming seriousness."
"The Bishop is here?"Lady Woodmere asked."How reassuring."
