“Well then,” the older woman announced with cheerful authority, her eyes sparkling as she surveyed the small gathering. “Enough standing about like statues. The weather is far too fine for serious conversation.”
Her gaze swept across the garden with deliberate satisfaction, the sunlight catching in the silver strands of her hair as she lifted her chin with unmistakable determination.
“If you intend to visit my grandson’s house,” she continued briskly, “you will do so properly.”
Emma’s lips curved with interest. Benjamin looked instantly suspicious.
“And what,” Benjamin asked cautiously, “does that involve?”
Lady Salford smiled. “Competition.”
Emma brightened immediately. “What do you suggest?”
Lady Salford’s eyes gleamed. “Pall Mall.”
“Oh no.” Benjamin groaned.
“Yes,” Lady Salford said firmly. “I refuse to entertain guests without competition.”
Within minutes, the garden lawn had been transformed into a lively game, gardeners and footmen arranging the field with military precision. The wooden arches were set across the grass while mallets and colored balls were distributed among the players.
Diana stood beside Lady Salford, suppressing a smile as the older woman surveyed the field with the intense concentration of a military strategist preparing for battle.
“Remember,” Lady Salford whispered conspiratorially. “We must defeat my grandson.”
Diana laughed softly. “That hardly seems fair.”
“Nonsense. He is young. He can recover from humiliation.”
Across the lawn, Alexander watched them both with quiet suspicion.
“I assume,” he said dryly, “that I am the subject of this alliance.”
Lady Salford lifted her chin proudly. “Quite correct.”
The game began. And chaos followed almost immediately.
Benjamin missed his first swing entirely. Emma struck her ball so lightly it barely rolled three feet. Georgina became distracted halfway through her turn while describing a new bonnet she had purchased.
Lady Salford, however, approached the game with the grim focus of a general entering battle.
Diana had barely finished positioning her own mallet when the older woman marched decisively toward her ball, her expression set with such fierce determination that it was immediately clear this was no longer a simple garden amusement.
“Out of the way,” Lady Salford declared, waving her hand impatiently as though the rest of them were merely obstacles cluttering her battlefield.
Benjamin obediently stepped aside with exaggerated caution. “Yes, General.”
Diana bit the inside of her cheek to suppress a smile.
Lady Salford planted her feet firmly on the grass, narrowed her eyes at the ball as though personally offended by its position, and raised the mallet with surprising confidence for someone who had moments earlier been complaining about her joints.
Diana leaned slightly toward Emma and whispered, “Should we be concerned?”
Emma whispered back, “Terrified.”
The mallet swung.
The sharp crack of wood striking the ball echoed across the lawn as the ball shot forward with far more force than anyone had anticipated. It rolled smoothly across the grass, passing through the first arch with perfect precision before continuing several more feet beyond it.
