"I am merely making observations," Gregory said innocently. Then, lowering his voice, "And I believe we are on the same team today. Try not to let your terrifying competitiveness intimidate our opponents too badly."
"I shall endeavor to be merciful," Anthea said dryly.
The game began, and almost immediately Anthea found herself falling into the same easy partnership she had discovered with Gregory at the garden party. He was aggressive, strategic, utterly focused on winning. She was more subtle, identifying weaknesses in their opponents' positions and exploiting them ruthlessly.
"Excellent shot," Gregory said after she sent Lord Pemberton's ball careening into the bushes. "Remind me never to play against you."
"You are only saying that because I am on your team," Anthea replied.
"No," Gregory said, and there was something warm in his voice. "I am saying it because you are brilliant, and I enjoy watching you demolish opponents who underestimated you."
Heat crept into Anthea's cheeks. "You are being absurd again."
"Am I?" Gregory moved closer, ostensibly to line up his next shot. "Or am I simply stating facts? You strategize like a general. It is remarkably attractive."
"Gregory—"
"Yes, my brilliant wife?" He hit his ball with perhaps more force than necessary, sending it through two wickets in rapid succession. "You were saying?"
Anthea had no idea what she had been about to say. Her mind had gone blank the moment he called her brilliant in that particular tone.
This was becoming a problem.
They won the game handily. Lord Pemberton congratulated them with slightly better grace than Anthea had expected, and Sir Richard actually laughed when Gregory made a self-deprecating comment about having an unfair advantage with a wife who understood geometry.
"You give her too much credit," Lord Pemberton said, but there was less frost in his voice than before. "Though I confess, Your Grace, you played quite well. Perhaps there is something to this partnership approach after all."
Anthea felt Gregory's hand settle briefly at the small of her back—a gesture of unity, of claiming.
"My wife makes everything better," Gregory said simply. "I am merely intelligent enough to recognize that and get out of her way."
Something in Anthea's chest squeezed tight.
That evening, after dinner, Anthea organized parlor games in the drawing room. Charades first, then a word game that required quick thinking and creativity.
She had positioned herself carefully—close enough to the gentlemen Gregory needed to impress that she could facilitate conversation, but not so close as to appear pushy. She laughed at appropriate moments, asked intelligent questions that made the gentlemen feel clever, smoothed over any conversational rough patches before they became awkward.
And through it all, Gregory watched her.
She could feel his gaze even when she was not looking at him. Could sense his attention tracking her movements around the room.
During the word game, Lord Pemberton made a comment about agricultural innovations that was not quite accurate. Anthea opened her mouth to correct him gently—then stopped.
No. That would make him defensive. It would make her seem like she was challenging him.
Instead, she smiled. "How fascinating, Lord Pemberton. I confess I know very little about such technical matters. Perhaps you could explain it more simply for those of us less knowledgeable?"
It was a blatant lie. She understood agricultural science quite well—had spent hours reading Gregory's reports and proposals. But she made herself look appropriately vapid, appropriately feminine, appropriately... diminished.
Lord Pemberton preened, launching into a longer explanation that was still not quite right but close enough not to matter.
Anthea smiled and nodded and pretended to be impressed.
Across the room, Gregory's expression had gone very still.
She did not realize anything was wrong until much later, after the guests had retired for the evening. She was in her chambers, reviewing the next day's schedule, when a sharp knock came at the connecting door.
Before she could respond, Gregory entered.
