They all trooped over to where the balls and mallets had been set out. Lady Gilchrest explained the rules as they arrived. “There are three teams of six. Each group will play through their course, and the winner from each group shall receive a special prize.”
“What’s the prize?” someone asked.
“Ah, that is a surprise for later.” Lady Gilchrest said. Then she joined Aunt Grace, Aunt Evelyn, and a few other matrons on the shaded veranda.
“I’ll go first,” Caroline called out. She and Davenport headed for the first iron arch. Caroline hit the ball through on the first try. “Yes!”
Lord Davenport also hit the ball through in one stroke. Gabrielle took two strokes and Andrew and Jack each got theirs through in one. Vivian, on the other hand, took four tries before getting her ball to roll through. She trudged after the group.
“Jack look at where you knocked my ball, you brute. You stay away from my ball.” Caroline complained.
“Can’t help if it was in my way.” Jack grinned. Caroline stuck out her tongue at him.
Observing Jack bantering with his siblings made Vivian smile. Spending these past weeks with his family had been good for him. Gone was the aura of loneliness he had worn last year.
A few holes later, she tried to hit her ball up a small incline and through the arch. Three tries later she still couldn’t get the blasted ball to roll through. While the others played ahead, Jack strolled over.
“Would you like some pointers?”
“Very much. Anything to help.” She blew out a frustrated breath.
He moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He gripped the mallet, his hands over hers. “Now, relax and pretend there is an imaginary line between you and the arch.”
She attempted to concentrate on the ball, but having his warm, solid body right behind her proved very distracting.
“Line up your body parallel to the line and swing back in controlled fashion, then whack the ball.”
He pulled her arms back in a practice swing. She couldn’t waste this excellent opportunity to tease him, just a bit. She turned her body slightly to the right, stepping back another inch.
“Like this?” she asked innocently as she swung her mallet back but missed the ball. Jack’s breath caught as her derriere brushed up against him. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “maybe show me one more time?”
He held on to the mallet, guiding her hands to the proper position and again she bent forward slightly, letting her derriere brush against him again. He let go of her with a quiet oath and took a giant step back.
“You did that on purpose, you minx!”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Vivian picked up her mallet and walked away, letting her hips swing gently back and forth.
****
The next day at lunch all the guests sat around tables scattered on the lawn. Jack sat between Vivian and Andrew, with Davenport on the other side of Vivian and Caroline, and Gabrielle across from him. Davenport entertained the table with some story about the prince and his entourage getting into the fountain at Vauxhall after a night of drinking. They had scared all the ducks into a big, quacking frenzy. Every time Vivian laughed at something Davenport said, Jack scowled and wished he could punch the man in his charming face.
Vivian squeezed his leg. He glanced over at her. She appeared to be paying rapt attention to the others. But those were definitely her fingers skimming up the inside of his thigh. The saucy wench was torturing him on purpose. He grinned. Lord, he loved this woman.
Panic fluttered in his chest at this flash of insight. He loved her. He loved her courage and her wild spirit; he loved her loyalty to her friends and family. Shaken, he reached down under the table. He took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before intertwining his fingers with hers. Some of the tightness in his chest eased at how right it felt having her hand in his.
A little while later, his opportunity to go search some of his suspects’ rooms arose. Jack noted Moreau sat with his mother. The Grangers, Lord and Lady Willingham, and Vivian’s aunts sat around the table as well. No one would ever be so rude as to leave the hostess’s table before luncheon finished. He pulled his hand from Vivian’s.
“I think I will go over and peruse the dessert table.” Casually, he headed in that direction, then slipped into the house through a pair of French doors. He wanted to focus on solving this mystery so he could get back to the more pleasurable business of courting Vivian. Jack headed up the back stairs to the guest wing.
He first went into Lord and Lady Granger’s rooms. Searching quickly and silently, he didn’t come upon anything of interest in the desk drawers or side tables. He looked around for Lord Granger’s personal writing desk. He found one, but based on the perfumed paper, it belonged to Lady Granger.
Moving on to Lord and Lady Tolbert’s room, a quick search didn’t find anything. In fact, he discovered their wardrobes were quite small for what he would expect to find for people of their rank. In addition, Lady Tolbert’s jewelry collection appeared quite limited, many pieces made from glass. Winter’s information was correct; they indeed appeared to be in financial straits.
Jack let himself out of the room silently. He made his way across the hall to Lord and Lady Farquhar's room and continued to search for any clues which would show a connection with Moreau. Spotting the man’s writing desk on a table by the window, he went over to look through its contents. Catching movement outside, he glanced through the window and frowned.
Vivian strolled along the path that led through the rose garden with Davenport at her side. They weren’t touching, but they were engaged in an animated conversation. Vivian’s hands were moving about as if describing something. Then Davenport took one of her hands, and kissing the back of it, tucked it into the crook of his arm as they walked on around the bend in the path.
Had he misconstrued Vivian’s feelings for him? Was she just flirting with him? Just having fun?
