‘I am the undefeated champion.’
‘Against whom?’
‘Against Lotte.’
‘Who is how old again?’
‘Three and a half.’
‘I see.’ She tried to stop the smile from spreading across her face, but it really was difficult when he was fighting one of his own, his eyes sparkling with laughter, whatever mood he’d been in earlier, forgotten. ‘And against adults?’
He raised one large shoulder. ‘I achieve more mixed results against those older than the nursery set. But…’ he raised one finger ‘…that is more because my brothers cheat, rather than through lack of skill on my part.’
‘And how do they cheat?’
‘They distract me by being much better at it than I am and then pointing out how much better they are. I am afraid it gets on my nerves and then I find it even harder to play. So, you see, it really is their fault.’
‘They are scoundrels and blackguards.’
‘I knew there was a reason I liked you, Sophia. You are all that is wise and truthful.’
She laughed as her heart seemed to grow wings and take flight.
‘Do you play?’
‘Ah, I must be honest. I am truly exceptional, and I really am an undefeated champion.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘And you play against…?’
‘My sisters. And I win every time.’ This was, in fact, true. She was rather good at it, even if she was the one singing her own praises.
‘I bet that is because you take it very seriously, follow all the rules and have a well-thought-out strategy.’
‘It is precisely that.’ She nodded sagely. ‘Also, they are conveniently distracted by arguing with one another, so it becomes quite easy.’
‘We should add a game to our list of things we are going to do for fun.’
‘Does the list include things that we are going to do outside of the Ton seeing us together?’ As soon as she’d asked the question, she wished she had not. She would have liked to play against him now.
Christopher studied his shoes for a long moment, making it impossible to tell how he was feeling at her words. ‘You are quite right. The whole point of this is to show people that we do not suit. Perhaps I can persuade my sisters-in-law to host a garden party, and we can compete against one another then.’
Feeling rather like she had killed the mood, she tried to bring it back by saying, ‘I shall look forward to destroying you.’
‘Then prepare yourself to be disappointed.’
‘I…’
But before she could finish her sentence, Christopher held up his hand. ‘I am sorry to interrupt, but I can hear the hideous sound ofmale voices, which sound distinctly like at least two of my brothers. Let us move on from here before they catch up with us.’
Having spent all her adult life avoiding being alone with a man, it was strange to follow Christopher down a narrow path that led to an archway cut into a privet hedge, his wide shoulders seeming to take up the space. She pressed her palms together, reminding herself that she must not notice such details about him. He was not truly hers to inspect.
Chapter Eleven
He was a man and his betrothed was a beautiful woman. Of course, he would notice the little bow at the front of her dress. It was perfectly normal to spend an inordinate amount of time obsessing over whether it was merely decoration or whether if he tugged at it, the whole bodice would loosen. He could almost feel the fabric under his fingertips, could sense the warmth of her skin against the back of his hand. The longing was almost an ache, his gaze a wilful thing that had taken on its own volition and was no longer listening to his mind, which screamed at him to think of something else, anything else.
It was more than mildly annoying that she didn’t appear to be as affected by his presence as he was by hers. While he was practically vibrating with the urge to reach out and touch her, she was utterly serene, barely even glancing in his direction. Maybe his behaviour from their drive had put her off him. He’d been a complete bore in the park, and he should apologise, but it wasn’t in his nature to point out or remind people of times when he wasn’t at his best. Even though driving around the park wasn’t something he enjoyed, he normally had the presence of mind to at least make pleasant conversation with his companion. He enjoyed a flirtatious afternoon as much as the next man, but his heart hadn’t been in it today. Ever since they’d received Mr Hornel’s letter, the mystery of Sebastian’s death had been goinground in his mind; he couldn’t get it out of his head that his brother may have needed him and he had not been there. Not that Sebastian had asked for his help or reached out to him in the years that he had been abroad, but that didn’t seem to make it any better. For a couple of days, he’d found it difficult to think of anything else. That was until he’d picked up Sophia for that ride and been confronted with her dress. It was humbling to realise he was shallow enough to be distracted by a pale pink bow and he’d spent rather a lot of time berating himself for being preoccupied by something he couldn’t have.
They stepped through into his favourite section of the garden and he realised that, even now, when he’d sworn to himself that he would stop looking at it, he was back to searching out the bow. He was a straw-brained nitwit. The object of his fascination was spinning slowly, eyes wide as she took in the arrangement of the walled garden, and something in his chest warmed at the evident delight on her face. For a woman of the Ton, she was surprisingly unguarded in her expressions. He never got the sense that she was trying to pretend to be anything other than who she was. There was something innocently refreshing about that. Right now, he could read exactly what she was thinking from the mix of surprise and awe. He could understand that too. The place gave the impression that the two of them had stepped into a wilderness. It contrasted so completely with the formal section they had just walked through and London in general, that it was as if they had wandered into a foreign land just by taking several steps.
