“That is quite all right dear. I am prepared to show you how to play, as many times as you need.” Lionel said with a fond smile that earned him one in return.
When Penelope missed yet another shot, Cecil couldn’t help but question,
“Can you not see the ball? Or the head of your mallet? Shall we move you closer to the hoop?”
Penelope’s gaze slid to him, and he felt himself tense up beneath the heat of her glare. Before he could speak, she had moved to stand near her brother. Cecil frowned, marching forward to strike a ball through the hoops assigned to his own team.
Without much effort, the ball rolled through the hoop he had targeted, and instead of making his way back to the group he was assigned, he stood next to Lionel, patting his friend on the shoulder. Seconds later, it was Lionel’s turn, and he stepped forward to take his shot.
Unfortunately, it seemed as though his aim was off, and his fellow teammates groaned as they saw his ball veer off to the side, away from the hoop it was meant to go through.
“Oh no,” Penelope nodded.
“No wonder your aim is questionable at best. It seems to run in your family,” Cecil sighed, voice light. “Perhaps you need to choose a more reliable instructor to show you how it’s really done.”
Penelope finally looked at him, and he thought she had finally given up on ignoring him. But when she spoke, he felt his hopes deflate.
“Instead of questioning my croquet skills – or lack thereof, perhaps your time would be better spent searching for a lady to charm.” She told him flatly.
Cecil frowned. “Perhaps. But you are supposed to help –”
She pointed behind him subtly, and when he turned to look, he spotted a lady standing alone, just outside the designated space for the game. She had a hand around the handle of a mallet while its head rested at her feet as she watched the game with rapt interest.
“I overheard a conversation she had with a friend earlier and it appears that she is looking for a wealthy husband with a good status. I think you’ll find that she would make an ideal match for you.” Penelope said, then she walked off without another word.
Cecil’s lips parted to call after her, but the disinterested expression on her face and the way she had waved him away filled his mouth with a sour taste. Sighing, he made his way to the lady she had pointed to, hoping that something useful would come out of the day at least.
The young woman was startled to see him when she raised her gaze, and Cecil quickly smiled in an effort to look as charming as he could to ward off her suspicion.
“Y-Your Grace,” she clumsily dropped into a curtsey, the handle of the mallet slipping past her fingers and onto the ground with a dull thud.
“My apologies, Miss. I did not wish to alarm you. I could not help but notice that although you had a mallet, you had not attempted to take any swings at the ball.” He said gently, moving to stand by her side.
“Ah,” she lowered her head, looking embarrassed. “That is because I am rather clumsy, Your Grace. I am quite inept at such activities and I fear any attempts I make might lead to bodily harm. Or worse.”
“I am sure you are exaggerating the limitations of your skill, Miss...”
She gasped and curtsied once more. “Lady Heather Moor. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Cecil lowered his head in a slight bow. “The honour is entirely mine. It would be a disservice to leave a lovely flower such as you to wilt away due to loneliness.”
“You are too kind,” Lady Heather blushed, but Cecil’s attention slipped away from her silently, making its way over to the spot where candidates would line up in preparation for their turn to swing.
Penelope was having another turn, and like all her previous attempts, something went awry, and she was left huffing in disappointment.
“– Your Grace?”
Cecil turned back to Lady Heather, her fair cheeks filling with a light flush of red.
“Hm?”
“Oh,” she lowered her eyes momentarily. “I wanted to know if you played croquet often. You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
“I did like it, growing up. My sisters and I would play in our garden for hours while our father was away on business. I learned very quickly that I have quite a thirst for victory and success, a trait my sisters could not stand.” He smirked.
Heather giggled, putting her hand over her mouth in a delicate attempt to obscure her smile.
“I am sure you were a precious sibling nonetheless. As an only child, I have no such fond memories and I must say, it has been rather lonely whilst growing up. I never knew a moment of want, but still, I hardly think such things could replace the need for company in one’s life.”
