The touch of Lady Rosalie’s palm feels like lightning shooting up Catherine’s arm, tingling. She never wants to let go.
“You are, in fact, a worthy opponent,” Lady Rosalie says.
Catherine can’t help but snort while laughter titters around them. “Glad to have lived up to such low expectations.”
“Oh, I had high hopes. You... have exceeded them,” Lady Rosalie says. Her palm squeezes Catherine’s, softly, almost like a caress.
Catherine swallows, her throat tight. She knows—she knows—Lady Rosalie doesn’t mean anything by it. Knows that she’s not speaking some kind of code. But it doesn’t stop Catherine’s treacherous stomach from clenching.
Do they have the same expectations?
Lady Rosalie’s brother, Mr.Tisend, pushes through the crowd of onlookers, and they hastily drop their hands. His entrance seems to disperse the rest of the gentlemen, which pulls MissRaught and MissLinet into other conversations, leaving Catherine, Lady Rosalie, and Mr.Tisend alone on the battledore court.
Catherine clenches her fist, trying not to think too hard about how Lady Rosalie’s touch might feel all over her body.
“Finally, a worthy competitor to join my battledore team,” Mr.Tisend says gleefully. “Excellent show, MissPine.”
“Thank you,” Catherine says, proud that her voice doesn’t crack.
Lady Rosalie’s still staring at her, as if their hands touching might have affected her just as much as it did Catherine. Which isthrilling, and complicated.
“We’ll need to stage a game expediently. I’ve been dying to beat her for years.”
Catherine looks over to meet his excited smile. “I’d be delighted. It’ll give Lady Rosalie a chance to reclaim her title.”
“Gladly,” Lady Rosalie says, bringing Catherine’s gaze back to her narrowed eyes. Good lord, that look sends almost as many tingles over Catherine’s body as her touch did. What’s happening to her?
“But first, some refreshment,” Lady Rosalie says. “And then we might entice Mr.Dean to fill out the court?”
Catherine reluctantly looks over at Mr.Dean. He doesn’t so much as glance their way, too busy talking with Mr.Fortes and Mr.Sholle. Mr.Sholle notices her looking and Catherine turns back to Lady Rosalie, whose eagerness has dimmed.
She doesn’t like that Mr.Dean has that much power to influence the mood of someone like Lady Rosalie. “We’ll rematch at the next event. If Mr.Tisend can wait that long to give you a thorough trouncing.”
“I’ve been plotting my victory against my dearest sister for years. It can wait another few weeks. However, the crab puffs won’t. We should get over there before Mr.Rile eats them all.”
And suddenly he has both Catherine and Lady Rosalie by their elbows, dragging them across the lawn to grab plates of hors d’oeuvres.
MissRaught and Mr.Rile are chatting by the canapés. Catherine glances back at MissLinet and finds her wandering toward the tea tables with another gentleman Catherine doesn’t know. Mr.Fortes is still talking with Mr.Dean and Mr.Sholle. Perhaps she’s given up on him, then. For the best, really; he seems as inattentive as Mr.Dean.
It’s good to see both Miss Linet and Miss Raught smiling, getting well-deserved attention. Though Catherine wishes they were still playing battledore, all the gentlemen be damned.
“Between your athletic prowess, your artistry, and your musical aptitude, you two may be the most impressive ladies in all of Bath,” Mr.Tisend says, hurrying to pull out both of their chairs as they settle at one of the white-linen-covered tea tables.
“You’re laying it on too thick,” Lady Rosalie says, swatting him away until he plops into the chair between them.
Catherine wishes she and Lady Rosalie were side by side, and is grateful at the same time that they aren’t.
“I just didn’t think we’d meet another lady as talented at athletics as you are,” he says to Lady Rosalie.
“I simply had a good opponent,” Catherine says, watching Lady Rosalie blush.
“Oh, please. I bet you’re that competitive with everyone,” Lady Rosalie says, passing her a strawberry macaron.
They’re her favorite. How did she know?
Catherine takes it, shaking her head. “It’s always been a problem with my brother. Embarrassed our parents with our shouting at more than one company picnic.”
“Oh, I’d like to meet your brother,” Mr.Tisend says. “Perhaps that’s the true match to be had.”
