“I may take you up on that, my lord,” Sophie said.
They chatted for a while longer before moving outside. A table had been set up for those who did not wish to join the croquet, where they could either sit and observe or play cards and other games.
The lawn around the side of the manor was flat and spacious, framed by trees at one end and gardens elsewhere. A number of wickets had been arranged, and the mallets were leaning against the table, waiting to be claimed.
Sophie immediately grabbed the mallet with a green head because it matched her dress. Perhaps at any other time, she might not be prone to such vanity, but if there were ever a time to indulge, it was surely while attempting to win the attention of the man one intended to marry.
She positioned a ball and made a show of lining up the mallet and preparing to hit it.
“If you hold the mallet like that, the ball will likely pull to the left,” a male voice said from a few yards away.
Turning, Sophie shielded her eyes, a little irritated at being corrected when she was perfectly competent at croquet.
It was Baron Sylvestor. What a shame.
It seemed the baron wasn’t above holding his own opinion in high regard and assuming women were incapable. She shouldn’t be surprised. Most men were the same.
“Why don’t you demonstrate the proper stance?” she suggested, offering him the mallet.
With an amiable smile, he took the mallet and lined it up to the ball in much the same way she had.
“It’s all about the way you grip it.” He removed one hand at a time from the mallet handle and emphasized the way in which he put it back. “Like this. Why don’t you try?”
She accepted the mallet and positioned her hands as he had done.
“That’s it!” He beamed, then looked around. Their companionshad all chosen mallets and were ready to begin. “Why don’t you go first? Unless Lady Wembley would prefer to begin?”
Lady Wembley gestured for them to go ahead. She had a glass of sparkling drink and a handful of cards and didn’t look the slightest bit inclined to take part.
Sophie discreetly rearranged her hands so they were how she had them in the beginning, swung her mallet, and set the ball neatly through the first wicket. She glanced up in time to see Baron Sylvestor’s mouth fall open.
There was a muffled chuckle, and when she looked for the source, she found Nicholas smirking and looking quite pleased. She followed the ball and hit it again, grinning smugly when it passed through the second wicket.
Take that, you overbearing man.
The next participant was the lady from the breakfast room who’d been making eyes at Nicholas. She was holding her mallet all wrong and kept fluttering her eyelashes in Nicholas’s direction.
“I’m afraid I’ve never played croquet before.” She swung and missed. “You must help me, Mr. Blackwell. I’ve heard you are quite the expert.”
Sophie’s grip on the mallet tightened, and she wondered what the woman would do if she smacked her foot with it. While it was obvious she genuinely didn’t know how to play, it was equally obvious that she had more interest in Nicholas than in learning to do so.
“I am sure that Baron Sylvestor would be happy to assist,” Nicholas drawled, one hand propped on his hip. “After all, he did so well teaching Lady Sophie.”
The baron bowed and approached Lady Somerset. “Of course. I’d be glad to.”
Nicholas’s smirk deepened as Baron Sylvestor hastened to assist her. A tightness in Sophie’s chest eased.
Lord, she hadn’t thought this plan through. It hadn’t evenoccurred to her that Nicholas might consider taking a lover while they were here. She didn’t think she could stomach watching him flirt and touch someone else.
Perhaps they should have discussed the matter. She could have made it sound like she was just worried that his suit would not appear to be genuine if he were to engage in an affair with another woman.
She feared it was too late for that now. She would have few opportunities to get him alone to talk.
Lady Somerset struck the ball harder than Sophie had expected, and she had to dart out of the way. It missed the wicket by several feet, but Lady Somerset didn’t seem deterred. She marched up to it and knocked it back in the other direction.
Sophie hit her own ball again, wanting to be out of the way in case anyone else overshot the mark.
As the game progressed, she became certain that Lady Somerset was trying to hit her. Several times, the lady’s ball had flown directly at Sophie even when she wasn’t anywhere near the wicket.
