Chapter Seven
The following afternoon, Damien stood amongst the crowd with a glass of lemonade in one hand, listening with half an ear as Thalia enthusiastically addressed her guests. His sister was in her element.
“Since everyone appears determined to avoid behaving like respectable adults," she announced cheerfully, "I have arranged games.”
A ripple of amusement spread through the crowd on Amberhall's sprawling lawns beneath a brilliant summer sky. Servants arranged tables, equipment, and refreshments for the day's entertainments.
“Guests shall be divided into four groups. Pall-mall, blind man's bluff, bullet pudding, and charades.”
A collective murmur followed as names were assigned. Damien paid little attention until he heard one particular name.
Lady Seraphine Fairchild.
His gaze immediately found her.
She stood amongst a cluster of guests near the fountain, looking far too pleased with herself.
Bullet pudding.
Interesting.
Damien heard his own assignment.
Charades. How unfortunate. Or perhaps not.
Without hesitation, he crossed the lawn toward the bullet pudding group. Lady Hannah Branson stood amongst them, chatting animatedly with several guests. Damien leaned down slightly and murmured something into her ear. Lady Hannah's eyes widened before she dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Truly?” she whispered, lowering her voice as she glanced up at him.
“So I am told,” Damien replied smoothly, folding his hands behind his back.
The young lady immediately looked towards the charades group where a certain gentleman stood waiting. A blush spread across her cheeks.
“Oh,” she breathed.
Damien nodded with exaggerated solemnity. “It would be a shame if an opportunity were missed.”
Lady Hannah laughed again and shook her head. “Your Grace, you are very kind.”
“I am many things,” Damien replied dryly, which only made her laugh harder.
Within moments she had agreed to exchange places. Damien watched her hurry towards the charades group before taking her place amongst the bullet pudding players. A few moments later he found himself standing beside Seraphine.
He could practically feel her suspicion before she even spoke.
“What did you say to Lady Hannah?” she asked under her breath, turning towards him with narrowed eyes.
The accusation in her voice made him suppress a smile.
“Nothing scandalous,” he replied, meeting her gaze with an expression of complete innocence.
Seraphine folded her arms and tilted her head. “That does not answer my question.”
“I merely informed her,” Damien said smoothly, lowering his voice as though sharing a confidence, “that one of the gentlemen in the charades group had remarked upon her beauty.”
Her eyes narrowed at once. “You meddled.”
“I facilitated,” he corrected.
