Time took a detour.
Sunlight, spectators, frogs—all receded.There was only Esme, eyes wide, mouth parted, a damp tendril of hair clinging to her temple, her hat askew.She looked, James thought, gloriously alive.
"You," she said, slightly breathless, "are a menace."
"You," he murmured back, "are terrible at staying upright."
His hand, braced at her waist, felt the quick rise and fall of her breathing.She didn't immediately step away, and neither did he.
"Lord Redford," someone called, laughter in their voice."That looks suspiciously like cheating."
"Yes," he said, not looking away from Esme."Terribly unsporting.I shall expect the frog's censure."
Her fingers had curled into his sleeve.Slowly, as if forcing herself, she loosened them."You may relinquish me now," she said."I believe I am no longer in danger of disgrace."
"That," he said softly, "is what you think."
For one wild moment, he considered bending his head to kiss her.
Woodmere’s voice cut through the hum."Esme."
She flinched, almost imperceptibly.James let her go at once, stepping back over the invisible line between teams.The world flowed back in—applause, jokes, Alexandra's whistle.
"Rescue acknowledged," Esme said briskly, smoothing her skirts."Now kindly return to your side so that I may defeat you properly."
His pulse thrummed."There she is," he murmured.
"Who?"she asked.
"The woman who does not intend to be stacked neatly with sensible arrangements," he said, leaning closer."I was worried the frog had swallowed her."
Her eyes flashed with amusement."The frog has no such power."
"Then I am doomed," he said lightly, and retreated.
The rest of the match was a blur.Esme's team triumphed when Miss Eaton delivered a finishing shot that sent Lord Bertram sprawling.The frog was awarded amid cheers, while Miss Eaton and Mr.Carstairs beamed at one another.
James barely noticed.
Every time he looked at Esme, he saw the moment when she had let him hold her.
That, he suspected, was going to be a problem.
Harrison cornered Esme near the lemonade table.
"You're flushed," he said."And your hat is crooked."
"It's a garden party," she replied."Not a coronation.One is allowed to perspire."
He lowered his voice."You were in Redford's arms in front of half the ton."
"In the interest of preventing my brains from decorating Foxmere's lawn," she said.
His jaw flexed."You know what people are saying."
"I'm aware they are saying I fell into a lake," she said, "and that Lady Langley rescued me from death by duck.It's a thrilling story.I hope someone has added a sea serpent."
"This is not a jest, Esme."
