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Somersworth had looked beyond skeptical, but he’d risen from his seat in the study when Boxby had suggested the four of them play.
Mirabelle had been doubtful as well, but for entirely different reasons. At least, she assumed her skepticism was different from Somersworth’s.
She’d met plenty of men like him. Rakish, worldly, likely not wishing to spend time with ladies who were so young—they’d not even participated in a season.
But her reservations were different. Boxby had a glint in his eyes. She recognized a plotting man when she saw one. She did have five brothers, after all. And in her experience, men didn’t hide their intentions nearly as well as women.
He was planning something. Her first guess was revenge—she had tricked him yesterday with the bet.
Was he about to do the same to her?
She swung the bat around, eyeing the two lords who spoke quietly off to their right. “What do you think they’re discussing?” Anna asked, turning to her sister so that her back faced the men.
Mirabelle’s brows lifted as she assessed their bent heads. “I can’t begin to imagine.”
“If it were Gris or Tris, I’d assume they were attempting to get out of this foolish game, but since Lord Boxby suggested it…” Anna’s nose wrinkled.
“Perhaps Boxby just wants to be a good host.” But she didn’t believe that. Not at all. Something had shifted when she and Boxby had danced this morning. What, though, had been difficult for her to discern.
Anna nodded, looking over her shoulder. “Will our brothers mind?”
Mirabelle nearly rolled her eyes. Anna meant their four unmarried brothers who’d yet to make an appearance despite the fact that it was well past noon. Apparently, they’d been up until all hours of the night drinking and carousing.
“We are doing exactly what ladies of our station ought. I can’t see how they’d object to that.”
But inwardly, Mirabelle gave another twitch. She had another agenda in mind, one she did not wish for her brothers to interfere with. They so often had no idea what would actually be good for them.
Still, Tris, Gris, Fulton, and Rush were liable to fight her at every turn. They were less for fitting into society and far more for thumbing their noses at it. What was more, they didn’t take kindly to any attention paid to their sisters. Didn’t they understand that Anna could make a fantastic match if given half a chance? Mirabelle could provide that for her sister if she could just be accepted into the fold.
She could only pray her brothers remained in bed for the duration of the croquet match.
“Lady Mirabelle,” Lord Somersworth called. “Would you do me the honor of playing on my team?”
Her brows shot up. “Of course.”
Lord Boxby stepped forward. “Lady Anna, I believe that leaves us to play together.”
Anna gave a slight curtsey as they stepped up to the pitch. But if Mirabelle had been interested before, her curiosity was beyond piqued now.
Fortunately, she and Anna had played before, their family enjoying any game that involved mallets and competition.
So when Anna struck first, she made a good shot, the ball rolling easily through the first hoop as the game commenced. By the second hoop, the teams were uncomfortably close.
And that’s when Boxby leaned over to her and whispered, “It could be anyone’s game.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Indeed.”
“A game this close really ought to have a wager attached. Don’t you think?”
And then she knew. Excitement pulsed through her as her gaze met his.
Somersworth was on her team, and he’d played well, only taking three strikes total for the two hoops. But he was on her team, and she’d wager that the moment she agreed to a bet, his playing would suffer. Greatly.
Her gaze narrowed as she looked up at the baron. “Terms?”
“Same as before.”
Shifting, she glanced at him through her lashes. Her voice carried loud enough for both Anna and Somersworth to hear. “If I win, you’ll help me with dance lessons?”
