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Just this morning, Dr. Linton had visited and pronounced a change in the captain’s restrictions. “Seeing as there is another strong back to help move him, he would benefit from a different locale. Accordingly, the occasional visit downstairs might be in order.”
Her enquiry about if he meant a place other than Stapleton was forestalled by Mama asking the very question, which the doctor had negated. “It’s far too soon to travel, and I must insist he remains a while longer. You may just need to pray that this incessant rain might keep visitors away. If, however, the rain lets up and he finds the crutch to his benefit, perhaps a visit to church might work in another week or so. Then we may consider whether he’s fit to return to Mannering.”
Another week. Another week of his company, and—God forgive her hopes this rain continued to make roads difficult to traverse—without Seraphina and Roger. One more week.
She bent her head to her stitching, wishing her ears did not so quickly prick to hear the captain’s low voice or laughter.
The sound of her name drew her head up.
“Forgive me. I did not hear.”
“Miss Stapleton,” Lieutenant Musgrave said. “Balfour assures me there is a billiard room, and the general has given permission that a game might be sought and had.”
He had? How magnanimous. She inadvertently glanced at the captain and saw his nod. Well, then. She returned her attention to the lieutenant. “I have played against my grandfather several times.”
“Aha! Balfour wondered if you were so practicable as to know the game.”
Her pulse mounted. She didnotwant to think on what else the captain might have wondered in regard to her.
“Would the general be interested, do you think?”
“In a game with you?” she asked the lieutenant. “I’m afraid he spends most of his time in his library, so I suspect not, but I can ask if you like.”
“I would not have him troubled …”
She laid aside her stitching and hurried away before she could listen to the rest of his protest.
She had to get away, to quieten her heart and not let the desire to know what else the captain thought sway her into staying. The enquiry put to the general, she soon returned with his negative, refraining to repeat the exact words of her grandfather’s expostulation.
“Might you be so kind as to accompany me, then, Miss Stapleton,” Lieutenant Musgrave enquired, his smile warm and inviting. “It has been an age since I played, and I would like the chance to do so, if doing so does not trouble or disturb you too much.”
The captain sitting there, watching her, disturbed her. Perhaps this would be a chance to escape his gaze. “Thank you, sir. A game would make a pleasant change.”
Lieutenant Musgrave nodded and turned to Becky, who had been sitting and watching proceedings quietly all this time. “Miss Mannering? Have you the happy talent of playing also?”
She blushed and shook her head. “I have never learned.”
“Ah, then perhaps you are in need of a tutor.” The lieutenant glanced at Theo and smiled before his gaze fixed on Becky. “As I have been instructed that I must keep you under my eye, then perhaps you would be so good as to come with us too.”
Theo bit her lip during the interchange. Just what was the lieutenant up to? At times he seemed to possess such engaging manners that she was hard-pressed to know if it was just his way or implied deeper interest. Her heart knotted. What folly to wonder if a man like him could ever have some interest in her. She studied the pair of them, the way the lieutenant seemed oblivious to Becky’s open admiration, and the fact that offers like this only encouraged the girl to fall deeper into attraction. How might the captain view such an invitation?
“Coming, Captain?” Lieutenant Musgrave asked and received hasty affirmation.
The billiard room was soon attained, the game commenced, and observations and instructions quickly followed. Theo’s lips curved with wryness. How silly to think this would be a simple game.
“Now ladies, I wonder, might I be permitted to assist you?”
She straightened and murmured complaisance—it never hurt to improve her game—even as her skin prickled. However, it wasn’t in reaction to the lieutenant’s nearness, but more the way the captain’s frown had suddenly intensified. She glanced away from where he was positioned on a settee, yet remained all too aware of him, how his gaze seemed to weigh upon her skin.
“Now, if you hold the cue straight, and draw your arm back like so.” The lieutenant touched her arm, his breath tickling her cheek, as she sensed his form behind her. “Then with a sharp movement, there!”
The crack of the stick against white ball saw it hit the red and spin it to the side, where it propelled toward the pocket before hitting the corner and rolling away.
“Ah, unlucky.”
“Perhaps you miscalculated,” the captain said.
“No miscalculation,” Lieutenant Musgrave said. “Simply bad luck.”
