“Oh, apologies, I did not expect someone would be here.” Suddenly, a remarkably familiar voice filled the shed.
Lavinia was still taken aback and failed to respond.
The Duke came in quickly and closed the door behind him. “Oh, it is you, Miss Fitzroy,” he said, surprised.
“Y-yes, it is I,” she stammered. “What are you doing here?” she asked, even though she had already figured it out.
He looked around the room. “I was just going to grab some mallets for the game. It hasn’t started yet if you’re wondering. I wanted to see the mallets myself, so I could decide which to use,” he explained.
“Well, I must tell you, it’s not about the mallets. You either have skills or you are deficient,” she retorted.
The Duke gave her a puzzled look. “I guess you don’t play that much if that is what you believe, Miss Fitzroy,” he remarked.
Lavinia inhaled, calming herself. “I do not need to prove myself to you, Your Grace.” She tilted her chin up so that she could stare the length of her nose down at him. “As it happens, I do quite enjoy a game of pall mall from time to time. However, I do not like to complicate things as you do.”
“I am not complicating anything, Miss Fitzroy. I am only explaining to you that a mallet could be a variable in winning the game,” he countered, seemingly amused by the conversation.
Lavinia felt her cheeks warm. She gave him a quick glance, catching a smirk on his face. “I am not the kind to belittle your little superstitions, Your Grace, but a talented player does not need great equipment. You can win at anything if you are good enough,” she said.
She knew she was right.
“Do you want to bet on it?” the Duke challenged.
Lavinia paused.
He was an arrogant man, that much she already knew. But now she knew that he was also a competitive man.
She stared at him, contemplating whether it would be worth betting. She chewed on her lower lip as she considered the outcome of making such a wager.
What should I ask him to give me if I win?
And then a more unsettling thought occurred to her.
What will he want from me if he wins?
CHAPTER 8
“Hmm.” She squinted her eyes, considering his question. “I do not think that it is fair to bet against you, Your Grace,” she said.
Although she wanted so badly to play against him, she knew her mother would not approve of them making a wager. Besides, there was no point in it.
She looked at the Duke, waiting for him to answer. She had just noticed the blush on his cheeks. It could be from his excitement to bet against her, or maybe it was just from the heat of a midsummer’s day.
“I thought that you were not the kind to step down from a challenge, but I guess I thought wrong,” the Duke uttered.
Lavinia felt her chest heat, the competitive part of her growling in anger, but reason would calm it down.
She had won against her brother ever since the first time she held a mallet. She could even say that she was a pall mall master. However, there was no reason to parade her mastery at an extremely easy game. Besides, anyone who had visited Crawford Hall before knew that she was the best at pall mall because she beat them every single time. Lavinia was sure that the Duke would find out soon enough.
“After all,” he said as he looked around, and she followed his gaze. “Why would you be hiding in this shed if you were unafraid to see how your skills stacked up against the competition?”
She noticed the cobwebs that hung from the ceiling and the dust that had collected on every surface. She had been so familiar with the place that she had willfully ignored such details before.
“Hiding?” she scoffed, as if she did not know what he was talking about. “I would not hide away from anything.”
She tried to avoid his eyes, but could not. Those light brown orbs of his glowed golden in the low light, enticing her to peer at them.
“Well, what are you doing here, then?” the Duke questioned.
