He had enjoyed speaking with her this morning in the woodlands, far more than he should have. She seemed more open and talkative, yet he could still sense that she held a part of herself back from him. He understood that feeling all too well.
As Miles reached for a mallet, a gloved hand swooped in and took the one he had wanted. He turned around to see a tall, redheaded young woman with a mischievous smile on her face.
“I always get the mallet with the blue stripe on it,” the young woman declared, her voice carrying a hint of playful competition. “Blue has been my lucky color as of late.”
“Is any color truly lucky?” Miles questioned.
She laughed. “For me, it is,” she replied confidently. “I have won every match the last few times that I have played with this mallet, and I don’t intend to break my streak today.”
While Bennett approached them, he chimed in, “I do believe introductions are in order. Lord Hilgrove, allow me the privilege of introducing you to Miss Bawden, the eldest daughter of our esteemed vicar.”
Miles bowed. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Miss Bawden dropped into a curtsy, her grip firm on the coveted mallet. “My lord,” she murmured.
Bennett stopped next to them and warned, “Just so you know, Winston is Miss Bawden’s archenemy.”
At the mere mention of Winston’s name, Miss Bawden groaned. “Your brother is simply terrible, absolutely dreadful,” she declared.
Bennett chuckled and turned to him, saying, “Winston and Miss Bawden have been constantly at odds for many, many years now.”
“I dreaded whenever Lord Winston came to visit Brockhall Manor. He would make my life utterly unbearable for the short time he was here on his visits,” Miss Bawden stated.
Miles opened his mouth to inquire why that was, but Bennett spoke first. “Do not ask any questions,” he urged, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Trust me, you don’t want to get caught up in the tangled web of their longstanding feud.”
Edwina’s soft voice chimed in from behind them. “Bennett is right. The list of grievances between them is long and cumbersome.”
“That is only because Lord Winston can’t handle being proven wrong,” Miss Bawden muttered under her breath.
“Neither can you,” Edwina teased.
“You make a fair point,” Miss Bawden reluctantly admitted. “But it is only because I am so rarely in the wrong.”
Edwina smiled. “I see that you have your lucky blue mallet,” she said, gesturing towards the mallet in Miss Bawden’s hand.
“Mallets, themselves, cannot be lucky,” Miles interjected.
Miss Bawden looked amused. “I see you are not a believer, but you will be. Once I beat you soundly, you will believe in the magic of the blue mallet.”
“Magic does not exist,” Miles argued.
“So sayyou,” Miss Bawden retorted.
Miles shook his head, finding this conversation to be utterly ridiculous. “So says everyone.”
Bennett’s laughter rang out. “You are not going to win this argument, Miles,” he said. “Miss Bawden would rather fall on her own sword than admit defeat.”
“That is only because I have right on my side,” Miss Bawden stated. “But enough of this talk, it is time to play pall-mall.”
Reaching for a mallet, Bennett asked, “Shall we play doubles?”
Miss Bawden held her mallet up. “I will partner with Lord Dunsby,” she announced. “Together, we will be an unstoppable team.”
Bennett tipped his head at Miss Bawden before saying, “That means that Miles will be partnering with Edwina.”
Miles turned to face Edwina. “I hope you have no objections about partnering with me.”
“I have none,” she responded.
