“Ah, here you two are,” Cynthia trilled, the saccharine nature of her tone making Kitty’s hand tighten on the mallet handle. “I was beginning to think we ought to send out a search party.”
Lady Mulberry, standing near the wicket, looked no more pleased.
Kitty squared her shoulders. She wasn’t about to let them ruin her good mood.
She confronted Cynthia with a totally innocent smile. “We were just retrieving the ball.”
Cynthia’s smile did not falter, but Kitty saw the flash of something pointed in her eyes before she turned away. Norman coughed.
“Shall we begin again?” he asked, his voice level, although Kitty wasn’t mistaken when his fingers clenched at his sides momentarily prior to taking his position.
The game started in a rush. Kitty, still buzzing by what happened between her and Norman only a few moments earlier, threw herself into it with fresh determination. She was a long way from being an expert, but she had spirit, and to her immense delight, she found that her keenness more than made up for the lack of skill.
Cynthia, however, did not seem nearly as pleased with how things were progressing.
“Oh, Kitty, do be careful,” Cynthia said sweetly as Kitty prepared her shot. “The last thing we want is for you to make a fool of yourself.”
Kitty smiled and bowed her head. “How considerate of you to be concerned,” she replied, and, without further remark, played her shot and struck the ball neatly through the wicket.
Norman made a sound that might possibly have been a laugh but quickly turned it into a cough. Kitty glanced at him, a gleam of triumph in her heart as she met the amusement shining in his eyes.
As the game went on, Kitty relaxed. Her laughter rang out across the garden with each victorious turn, and she hardly noticed Lady Mulberry’s pointed frowns or Cynthia’s darkening scowl—she was having too much fun.
And then, in the final round, she won.
There was a pause.
Kitty blinked down at the ball that had just fallen neatly into position, then looked up at Norman, expecting to see the same sort of suppressed frustration she had witnessed from him before. Instead, to her utter surprise, he smiled.
Not a smirk, not a condescending twist of his lips. A real smile.
Kitty’s breath hitched.
She had never seen him smile like that before. This smile was something raw and entirely his—a slow, deliberate curving of lips that made the fine hairs at her nape rise in awareness. The way his eyes darkened as they tracked her reaction, as if he knew precisely how her stomach had just swooped…
“Well played,” Norman said, and Kitty felt something warm encircle her chest.
Cynthia’s shrill laughter dissolved the spell. “How unexpected,” she said, in a voice that was a bit too cheerful. “What amazing luck you have, Kitty.”
Kitty glanced at her, her face studiously expressionless. “Or perhaps it was skill,” she suggested, lightly, not being able to resist.
Norman’s lips twitched, but he said nothing.
“Indeed, since we have all had our fill of the game,” Lady Mulberry interrupted smoothly, “it is perhaps time we retire. There are far more enjoyable ways to spend an afternoon.”
Norman’s smile fell as he turned to her, his posture shifting almost imperceptibly. “Indeed,” he said after a pause. “But I daresay this was a pleasant diversion.”
Kitty could hardly believe her ears. Was Norman…proud of her?
Lady Mulberry, however, was not so amused. She merely bowed her head in a slow, controlled nod before pivoting on her heel and leaving. Cynthia followed her, not before giving Kitty a look which promised this would not be the end of the matter.
Kitty, unperturbed, turned back to Norman. He was looking at her in that quiet, thoughtful way of his.
“Are you surprised?” he asked.
She hesitated. “By what?”
“That I am not a sore loser.”
