"You're not going to play, Joyce?"
"Oh, no. I've never much cared for hitting balls with sticks. I'll stay with the baby," her sister gave a tight little laugh.
Alethea suspected Joyce was avoiding playing because Theodore was involved, but she decided not to push her. Perhaps it was enough for now that they were within view of each other. Joyce could enjoy watching him, at least.
Clara and Eleanor trailed the group of adults to the starting point of the pall-mall field. The footmen had set up small arches at intervals, and placed the colored wooden balls at the head of the course. A basket of mallets in varying sizes awaited. Alethea picked one that felt manageable, she had never played, but she had observed others and grasped the basics.
Oliver selected a mallet, as did Theodore and Daphne. That made four players.
Little Clara hopped up and down. "I want to play too!" she piped.
Theodore chuckled and fetched the smallest mallet for her. "All right, scamp. You can be on my team, how about that?"
Clara beamed, and Alethea exchanged a quick pleased glance with Oliver. At least Theodore sounded cheerful for the moment.
"If Clara's playing, I should like to also!" Eleanor insisted, not to be outdone by her younger sister.
Daphne offered her own mallet to the nine-year-old with a gracious flourish. "Here you are, Lady Eleanor. I think I shall sit this one out and cheer you all from the sidelines." It seemed Daphne had an inkling that giving the children the spotlight might further smooth any awkwardness. She winked at Alethea as she stepped aside. "Give them a good battle," she said with a grin.
And so teams were informally arranged: Theodore and Clara against Oliver and Eleanor against Alethea (who played solo but didn't mind). The first order of business was to hit the balls through the starting hoop and down the field. Clara, being youngest, was allowed to go first. She smacked her crimson ball rather haphazardly; it rolled only a short distance, not even reaching the first wicket. But Clara clapped as if she'd done marvelously.
Eleanor went next, with Oliver's coaching. Her blue ball went further, about halfway to the wicket. Theodore, sharing a mallet with Clara, took his turn and sent their red ball cleanly throughthe first arch. He bowed theatrically to his little sister. "That's how it's done." Clara giggled and gave him an exaggerated curtsy in return.
Alethea was last. She took a calming breath, steadied her pale green ball, and swung. To her astonishment, she struck and the ball sailed straight through not only the first wicket but continued on, coming to rest close to the second.
Beginner's luck, surely.Alethea blinked in surprise as Daphne burst into cheers and applause.
"Brava, Alethea!" Daphne called, laughing. "Show them how a Carter competes!"
"Oh dear," Oliver said in a mock whisper, loud enough for all to hear. "It appears my duchess neglected to tell us she's a natural at this game."
"Pure luck, I assure you. I haven't the faintest idea what I'm doing," she shrugged modestly.
"Don't let her fool you," Daphne interjected teasingly from the sidelines. "I suspect she is not short of talent when it comes to anything."
"Well, if you truly wish to beat me," Alethea said, looking over to Theodore. "Perhaps your best bet would be to form an alliance."
"I quite agree, brother. Truce?" Theodore caught on immediately and grinned.
"Truce." Oliver extended his hand and Theodore shook it solemnly.
Alethea watched this play out with relief. It was precisely the outcome she had hoped for. Nothing like friendly competition bringing the two brothers together.
On the next round, Alethea overshot a stroke, sending her ball a bit wide of the third wicket. It still placed her clearly ahead of the others.
"This will not do," Oliver said.
On his turn, instead of aiming for his own goal, he strode up and gave Alethea's green ball a decisive whack with his mallet. The ball shot off-course.
Alethea's mouth fell open.
"That's cheating!" she exclaimed, trying to sound offended, though laughter bubbled in her voice.
"It's strategy," Oliver countered with a devilish grin. "All's fair in pall-mall."
Theodore tipped an imaginary hat.
"Allow me to assist as well." Theodore tipped an imaginary hat, and then took his turn and knocked his brother's red ball so that it blocked the hoop Alethea would next need to pass through once she retrieved hers. Between the two of them, they had effectively ruined her advantage.
