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“Do not say I never look out for you, dear neighbor,” Cecily said, her tight smile turning victorious.
“I did not realize you two were neighbors,” Arabella noted with curiosity.
“Oh, yes,” Lockhart replied, smooth as ever, despite the ice in his eyes as he looked upon Cecily. “Our families have existed side by side for several generations. I remember fondly the days your child self would follow me around like a little puppy dog, Miss Balfour.”
Cecily flushed, and Arabella feared what she might say next to rile the situation up even further. Blessedly, Milton cut in between them. “The game is beginning, I believe. Miss Balfour, would you do me the honor of being my partner? I’m a terrible shot.”
“Shall we, Lord Lockhart?” Arabella said with a beaming smile at the scowling baron. She could still feel Milton’s eyes on her, despite him walking off with Miss Balfour. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction of her attention, and the thought of her slight irritating him was gratifying to the extreme.
Lord Lockhart wiped all traces of aggression from his face as he turned away from the pair, his relaxed air returning. “Of course, Miss Hughs. Lead the way.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know the rules, My Lord.” She hadn’t played a game of bowls in her life, having been invited to no house parties and being part of a family that spent little time together outside of the social requirements. She tried to imagine her frigid father tossing around a lawn ball and nearly laughed aloud.
“That’s alright,” Lord Lockhart replied, his eyes straying back to the duke and Cecily and narrowing.
Arabella blinked, watching him tense as the pair chatted. “Are you… jealous?” She clamped her hand over her mouth. “I said that aloud, didn’t I?”
Lockhart laughed, long, rich, and so loud that the others on the lawn were staring at him. “I’m not sure what is more amusing,” he said after calming down, “that slip up or the fact that you think I care at all what Miss Balfour does. Come along, I’ll show you how to throw the ball properly.”
Arabella followed him up the lawn, noting that he made it a point not to look anywhere near Milton and Cecily. She did the same, knowing that it would irritate Milton even more. Served him right.
* * *
“They seem to be getting along, though I suppose Lockhart gets on well with just about everyone when he puts his mind to it.”
Nathan tore his gaze away from Arabella and Lockhart to look at his companion. He’d partnered with her in a panic, hoping that separating the two might diffuse what was fast becoming a scene. No doubt Lockhart was irritated with him for taking away his quarry. “That he does, Miss Balfour. Though, from what he’s told me, that same affability does not extend to you.” Lockhart made no secret of his disdain for the famous bluestocking, despite their families being neighbors for a good several generations. Nathan could vaguely remember the two getting along during the handful of times he’d visited between terms, the little girl following Lockhart around like a besotted puppy. Something seemed to have changed in the proceeding years, though his friend never cared to share what.
Miss Balfour let out a rather unladylike snort that would have had most mamas reeling. “He drives me up the wall, if you must know.”
“And yet I cannot help but notice your gaze straying to his person on more than one occasion.” Several times he’d seen Miss Balfour casting discreet glances the baron’s way whenever the man wasn’t looking, making Nathan wonder just how true her animosity was.
She raised a cool eyebrow, though the disinterested effect was diminished somewhat by the red blush creeping across her cheeks. “Just like you keep doing the same to Miss Hughs?”
Now it was his turn to flush. “Touche, Miss Balfour.”
“I think she likes you too, for what it’s worth.”
He coughed into his hand. “Hardly.”
She shrugged. “We will have to agree to disagree, Your Grace. I am an excellent judge of character.”
“Except when it comes to Lord Lockhart,” he replied pointedly.
“Back to that tiresome subject again?” A giggle sounded, and Nathan watched Miss Balfour glare at Lockhart in thinly disguised disdain as he playfully demonstrated the proper throwing technique to Miss Hughs, who seemed quite amused with the baron’s charming instruction. “He’s frivolous to an appalling degree.”
“I suppose. Though, such things aren’t always a sign of villainy, despite what you seem to think,” he replied calmly, feeling the need to defend his friend. Yes, Lockhart was the flightiest and rowdiest of their group, but he was also the most loyal friend he’d ever known. When Nathan had been a sobbing mess after the tragedy, Lockhart had been the one to spend immeasurable hours patting his back and murmuring words of comfort as he cried like a child in his new study, had been Lockhart who’d walked with him to his seat at parliament whilst he’d inwardly cringed with nerves, and it had been Lockhart who’d viciously led the charge to eviscerate any petty gossips who’d dared invent some lurid reasonings for his mother’s absence from society. It was for these reasons why, unlike Miss Balfour’s thinly disguised distress at watching Lockhart charm another woman, Nathan didn’t feel threatened in the least by his casual flirtations with Miss Hughs, merely a spark of envy that he himself wasn’t the one in Lockhart’s place. He tried to imagine Miss Hughs chuckling at his own attempts to flirt in a similar matter and failed miserably. No doubt she’d scowl and humiliate him again, especially after that bloody kiss. He swallowed the wave of arousal at the memory of her soft lips and the charming way she’d clutched his chest as he’d deepened it. That such a mild kiss could send him so out of sorts was embarrassing to the supreme and was a testament to this unfathomable attraction, one entirely undesired in light of the obvious fact that she wanted nothing to do with him.
“We will have to agree to disagree, Your Grace,” Miss Balfour said with a sniff, knocking him from his deteriorating thoughts.
He tore his gaze from Miss Hughs. “Very well,” he replied, not wanting to direct any of her ire at him. That she could terrify the normally unflappable Lockhart to such a degree meant she was quite formidable, and he already had one difficult lady to handle. His ears prickled as Miss Hughs giggled again, and it took everything he had not to look and see what Lockhart was doing to illicit such a reaction. No doubt his friend was getting his revenge and trying to needle Nathan, and Miss Hughs seemed determined to aid him in that endeavor. Was she angry at him for avoiding her? The possibility confused him, for he’d thought that was precisely what she would have wanted.
‘I think she likes you too, for what it’s worth.’He rolled Miss Balfour’s words around in his mind, debating their accuracy for a moment before shaking his head. Preposterous. The woman had made her dislike of him clear. Even if it had felt like she wanted to return his kiss in the morning. Again, he remembered her soft sigh and the way she’d clutched him before he’d wrenched away. He dared another glance, only to see her still chatting with Lockhart and paying him no mind. No, not a chance.
“Everyone!” Lady Thurmont’s voice called over the green. She stood at the top of the terrace, holding the white ball in her hands. The other non-players mingled about just behind. His mother and Lady Drummel were conversing, the latter appearing a tad morose, likely due to the fact that Miss Caroline had bowed out of the game. He’d have to tell his mother soon that he’d knocked Miss Caroline off the list. Said lady was off to one side, staring at her sister and Lockhart with an obvious note of irritation. Did she have her cap set for Lockhart, perhaps, and was jealous of Miss Hughs? It seemed unlikely. From what little he’d observed of Miss Caroline, she hadn’t seemed to favor any gentleman beyond a passing conversation, himself included. Before he could think further on the matter, Lady Thurmont cleared her throat. “Since you all have found your pairs, let us begin our game. The rules are the same as a normal match, except that only the closest ball to the target out of the two of you will be counted. Thurmont,” she called to her son, holding up the ball. “Will you do the honors?”
Nathan looked at his friend with pity. The poor man had somehow wound up with Miss Georgiana Russel as his partner. Heiress to a successful shipping company with a father who’d recently acquired a baronetcy through dubious means, the lady was a new addition to the Ton and had made a fool of herself at just about every event she could with her lack of manners, likely the reason for the paid companion that was with her. She’d been following Thurmont about for most of the house party, her intentions obvious. Unfortunately for the poor girl, the earl was decidedly not interested. An idea formed in Nathan’s head as he watched Thurmont eagerly extricate himself from his companion, something that could be the perfect revenge for starting this entire scheme in the first place. The man did say that the others would get to choose his partner when the time came around. But no, Nathan decided, he would win far too quickly due to Miss Russel’s like of him. Besides, it would be cruel for Thurmont to dance with the lady and get her hopes up.
Watching the earl walking to his mother, Nathan’s eyes involuntarily passed over Lockhart and Miss Hughs once more. Lockhart whispered something in her ear, perhaps some commentary on Thurmont’s unfortunate situation, and Miss Hughs’ lips crunched in suppressed laughter. And then her gaze lifted, her eyes meeting Nathan’s. The smile fell from her face, and yet her eyes remained on him. His heart thundered at the contact, those brown eyes fathomless and drawing him in much the same way as the ball.
