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Sure enough, though Christopher was a lanky young man, and unaccustomed to physical exertion, with the enthusiastic encouragement of both Bess and Clara, he managed to catch up to Clara and tap her on the shoulder with a cry of triumph.
No sooner had the two of them squared off once again to begin another round of the game, Bess barking and jumping at the sport of it, then a distant cry interrupted the game.
“There you are, Your Grace!”
Christopher and Clara paused in their spirited romp across the green, turning to see who was calling after them. Clara felt her heart leap with joy at seeing Edward jogging over to them in the sunlight, his magnificent curly black hair wafting in the afternoon breeze…then hiccupped as it sank back down at seeing the expression of frustration on Edward’s face.
“Your Grace,” Edward said, fighting to catch his breath and pulling down at the hem of his stiff black jacket. “I have been looking for you for some time. There is some correspondence that needs your attention, and Mr Svenungsson will be expecting you to have your memorization complete by tomorrow morning’s lesson.”
Clara was dismayed to see a look of consternation return to Christopher’s face. First she thought he might burst out in anger, but then this energy was directed inward and he cast his eyes down in shame, his posture straightening and shoulders hunching. “I’m sorry, Mr Morton. I…lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”
She saw Edward take in this transformation with concern, then his eyes whipped over to her. She glared daggers at him that clearly put a fright into the man. Don’t you dare take this pleasant moment away from Christopher.
As Edward gulped uncomfortably, looking around as though for a means of escape, Clara decided to take this as acquiescence to the plan that now occurred to her.
“You know, Your Grace?” she asked loudly. Christopher and Edward both looked to her warily. “I believe your guardian may have instructed you a bit too well.”
Both men blinked at her, uncomprehending.
Turning to Christopher, she nodded towards Edward and said quietly, “Unless I am mistaken, he seems to have already taught you to surpass his own skills in the game of tag.”
“…Tag?” Edward asked.
As Clara gave Christopher a hearty wink, his face broke out once more in a boyish smile. After a count of three spoken under Clara’s breath, the two launched themselves at Edward with boisterous whoops. And just like that, the game was back on.
For the better part of an hour, the three of them and Bess cavorted across the wide grounds of the St. George estate, running and jumping and tackling and laughing until all of them finally collapsed amid a patch of wild clover, giggling and out of breath as they sweated under the warm yellow sunshine.
“Thank you, Clara,” Christopher said, breathing hard as he lay sprawled on the grass. “I cannot remember the last time I have had fun like this.”
“Neither can I,” Edward added softly. “Miss Clara seems to have a talent for bringing such things out of people.”
Clara breathed a deep sigh. She could see her fine new dress was covered in grass stains, and she had bits of grass sticking out of her hair at every angle. Both Christopher and Edward looked to be in no less sorry a state.
But as inappropriate as all this seemed to be for a Duke, his sister, and his guardian, as she lolled her head to one side and saw Edward’s face beaming with pride, Clara felt sure that she could do no better than what she had brought about today.
The feeling would not last.
