Carew stilled. “I am familiar with the name. You are related to the Duke of Ross, are you not?”
“Yes. He is my half-brother,” he concurred. He tapped the racket against his thigh. “I rarely frequent any event that Frederick invites me to, and while I’m not sure what compelled me to travel down and accept this particular invitation, I’m starting to think it was a good idea on my part.” Carew noted that his brown eyes strayed to Miss Hargrove.
Lord Everly straightened his shoulders. “Shall we play?”
Carew got into position near Miss Hargrove, and without any further warning, Lord Everly hit the shuttlecock into the air with a perfect strike of his racket. It went sailing toward Miss Hargrove. She struck it at a perfect angle—straight back to Lord Everly.
It went back and forth between them for a time, during which Carew was starting to feel like the fifth wheel, but then the shuttlecock soon headed toward him. He hit it firmly, intent on making the other man work to stay in the game, but he was able to save the shuttlecock from hitting the ground with an impressive smack of his racket.
After a few more hits, the game started to slowly shift to Carew and his adversary. He intentionally made sure that it went back to Lord Everly, making him stretch a bit further each time. But while Carew was starting to feel a trickle of perspiration trailing down his back and along his forehead, the other man didn’t even appear to have broken a sweat.
Back and forth the game continued, while Miss Hargrove slowly lowered her racket and began to observe the exchange. Carew clenched his jaw, as the competition for her attention was becoming fierce. The distance between them slowly lengthened as the hits became more savage. He even attempted several trick shots, using the racket behind his back to strike the shuttlecock even though he was starting to breathe a bit heavier from his exertions. Again, Lord Everly didn’t appear to suffer any ill effects and it only made Carew’s teeth grind in irritation.
It didn’t take long before the activity started to gain notice, and soon a crowd had gathered around to watch the match. Each of the onlookers began to cheer for their favorite opponent and Carew began to feel a rush of exhilaration when he realized they were applauding for him. A satisfied grin broke out on his face and he laughed at the thrill coursing through his veins.
Carew turned his head to where Miss Hargrove had been standing to observe her approval of his victory.
She wasn’t there.
He made a quick scan of the area and—still nothing.
“Look out!”
He heeded the warning a second too late. He turned back around just as the shuttlecock landed on the grass at his feet. He held back an obscenity as Lord Everly walked over and held out a hand. “Good game, my lord. It’s been a long time since I’ve come across such a worthy opponent.”
Carew reluctantly accepted the man’s hand and noted that many of the guests were eager to chat with the winner.
It gave Carew the perfect opportunity to slip away.
Dulcenia was furious.No, she waslivid.
How dare Lord Dollhouse turn a fun bit of play into some sort of male battle of pride? Because what else could it have been? He had wanted to prove himself the master of the game and had ruined it for her in the process. She had just started to calm her nerves from her last encounter with him, and now he’d upset her again, but this time, for a completely different reason.
It was a good thing she didn’t still have the racket in her grasp, having handed it over to the footman when she’d departed the field, or else she might have broken it into splinters.
Even though Dulcenia wasn’t an accomplished horsewoman, and was actually rather timid around the large animals, she was angry enough that her steps had taken her to the stables, because it was as far away from the foolishness taking place on the lawn as possible.
The instant she walked into the area, the smell of leather, hay, and musky fur—among other unpleasant things—assailed her nostrils. It wasn’t terribly appealing, but as she walked along the rows of stalls, she began to grow accustomed to it, and when she heard a slight nicker, she curiously wandered toward the sound.
She peeked over the edge of one of the stall doors and spied a mature mare lying down in the hay, while a foal pranced around in happiness in front of her. The younger horse must have scented her arrival, for it snorted and kicked a few times as those big, brown eyes studied her warily.
“Hello, girl,” Dulcenia greeted it softly. “I won’t hurt you.” She held out her hand in supplication and patiently waited for a response.
The mare watched Dulcenia steadily as the baby inched closer. She continued to speak gentle, encouraging words to the foal. It finally approached her with a curious sniff, rubbing its velvety nose up against her palm.
Dulcenia smiled and gave it an affectionate pat. “I do hope that someday you aren’t made into that dreadful glue,” she murmured. Its ears perked up for a moment, and then it snorted and turned back to its mother. Dulcenia laughed. “I do beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to offend.”
With her spirits starting to buoy once more, she turned from the gate, only to hear a dry, male voice say, “You’re a natural.”
She couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes, at the same time her pulse began to pick up speed from Lord Dalhousie’s silhouette at the end of the stables. She considered turning and leaving the opposite way, leaving him by himself, but no one was going to call her a coward.
She lifted her chin and approached him boldly. “I would have thought you had better things to do with your time, my lord, than stalk me about the duke’s property.”
He lifted a lazy brow. “Is that what I’m doing? And here I thought I was supposed to be courting you.”
She snorted. “I think we both know that is stuff and nonsense.” She started to skirt past him.
“And why not?” he inquired from behind her. “Didn’t I express my interest well enough last night?”
