The Viscount Who Loved Me (29 page)

“I see,” she murmured. “I didn’t think rakes apologized.”

His hand flexed, then made a tight fist. It was damned annoying, this habit of hers always to jump to conclusions about him. “This rake does,” he said in clipped tones.

She took a deep breath, then let it out in a long, steady exhale. “Then I accept your apology.”

“Excellent,” he said, offering his most winning smile. “May I escort you back to the house?”

She nodded. “But don’t think this means that I will suddenly change my mind about you and Edwina.”

“I would never dream of considering you so easily swayed,” he said, quite honestly.

She turned to him, her eyes startlingly direct, even for her. “The fact remains that you kissed me,” she said bluntly.

“And you kissed me,” he could not resist returning.

Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. “The fact remains,” she repeated determinedly, “that it happened. And should you marry Edwina—regardless of your reputation, which I do not consider inconsequential—”

“No,” he murmured, interrupting her with velvet soft tones, “I didn’t think you would.”

She glared at him. “Regardless of your reputation,
it
would always be between us. Once something happens, you can’t take it away.”

The devil in Anthony nearly compelled him to drawl the word, “It?” forcing her to repeat the words, “The kiss,” but instead he took pity on her and let it go. Besides, she had a good point. The kiss would always be between them. Even now, with her cheeks pinkened by embarrassment
and her lips pursed with irritation, he found himself wondering how she’d feel if he pulled her into his arms, how she’d taste if he traced the outline of her lips with his tongue.

Would she smell like the garden? Or would that maddening scent of lilies and soap still cling to her skin?

Would she melt into his embrace? Or would she push him away and run for the house?

There was only one way to find out, and doing so would ruin his chances with Edwina forever.

But as Kate had pointed out, maybe marrying Edwina would bring with it far too many complications. It would not do to be lusting after one’s sister-in-law, after all.

Maybe the time had come to search out a new bride, tedious though the prospect may be.

Maybe the time was right to kiss Kate Sheffield again, here in the perfect beauty of Aubrey Hall’s gardens, with the flowers grazing their legs and the smell of lilac hanging in the air.

Maybe…

Maybe…

O
r maybe not.

Just as Anthony was plotting the best course to her lips, he heard the perfectly awful sound of his younger brother’s voice.

“Anthony!” Colin shouted out. “There you are.”

Miss Sheffield, blissfully unaware of how close she’d come to having been kissed utterly senseless, turned to watch Colin approach.

“One of these days,” Anthony muttered, “I’m going to have to kill him.”

Kate turned back. “Did you say something, my lord?”

Anthony ignored her. It was probably his best option, since
not
ignoring her tended to leave him rather desperately lusting after her, which was, as he well knew, a short, straight road to utter disaster.

In all truth, he probably should have thanked Colin for
his untimely interruption. A few more seconds, and he would have kissed Kate Sheffield, which would have been the greatest mistake of his life.

One kiss with Kate could probably be excused, especially considering how far she’d provoked him the other night in his study. But two…well, two would have required any man of honor to withdraw his courtship of Edwina Sheffield.

And Anthony wasn’t quite ready to give up on the concept of honor.

He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to tossing aside his plan to marry Edwina. What was he thinking? She was the perfect bride for his purposes. It was only when her meddlesome sister was around that his brain grew confused.

“Anthony,” Colin said again as he drew near, “and Miss Sheffield.” He eyed them curiously; he well knew they didn’t get along. “What a surprise.”

“I was just exploring your mother’s gardens,” Kate said, “and I stumbled upon your brother.”

Anthony gave a single nod of agreement.

“Daphne and Simon are here,” Colin said.

Anthony turned to Kate and explained, “My sister and her husband.”

“The duke?” she inquired politely.

“The very one,” he grumbled.

Colin laughed at his brother’s pique. “He was opposed to the marriage,” he said to Kate. “It kills him that they’re happy.”

“Oh, for the love of—” Anthony snapped, catching himself just before he blasphemed in front of Kate. “I’m very happy that my sister is happy,” he ground out, not sounding particularly happy. “It’s simply that I should have had one more opportunity to beat the tar out of that bas—bounder before they embarked on ‘happily ever after.’ ”

Kate choked on a laugh. “I see,” she said, fairly certain that she had
not
kept the straight face she’d been aiming for.

Colin shot her a grin before turning back to his brother.
“Daff suggested a game of Pall Mall. What do you say? We haven’t played for ages. And, if we set off soon, we can escape the milksop misses Mother has invited for us.” He turned back to Kate with the sort of grin that could win forgiveness for anything. “Present company excluded, of course.”

“Of course,” she murmured.

Colin leaned forward, his green eyes flashing with mischief. “
No one
would make the mistake of calling you a milksop miss,” he added.

“Is that a compliment?” she asked acerbically.

“Without a doubt.”

“Then I shall accept it with grace and good favor.”

Colin laughed and said to Anthony, “I like her.”

Anthony didn’t look amused.

“Have you ever played Pall Mall, Miss Sheffield?” Colin asked.

“I’m afraid not. I’m not even sure what it is.”

“It’s a lawn game. Brilliant fun. More popular in France than it is here, although they call it
Paille Maille
.”

“How does one play?” Kate asked.

“We set out wickets on a course,” Colin explained, “then hit wooden balls through them with mallets.”

“That sounds simple enough,” she mused.

“Not,” he said with a laugh, “when you’re playing with the Bridgertons.”

“And what does
that
mean?”

“It means,” Anthony cut in, “that we’ve never seen the need to set out a regulation course. Colin sets out the wickets over tree roots—”

“And you aimed yours toward the lake,” Colin interrupted. “We never did find the red ball after Daphne sank it.”

Kate knew she shouldn’t be committing herself to an afternoon in the company of Viscount Bridgerton, but dash it all, Pall Mall sounded fun. “Might there be room for one more player?” she inquired. “Since we’ve already excluded me from the ranks of the milksops?”

“Of course!” Colin said. “I suspect you’ll fit right in with the rest of us schemers and cheaters.”

“Coming from you,” Kate said with a laugh, “I
know
that was a compliment.”

“Oh, for certain. Honor and honesty has its time and place, but
not
in a game of Pall Mall.”

“And,” Anthony cut in, a smug expression on his face, “we shall have to invite your sister as well.”

“Edwina?” Kate choked out. Drat. She’d just played right into his hand. She’d been doing her best to keep the two of them apart, and now she’d practically arranged an afternoon out. There was no way she could exclude Edwina after all but inviting herself into the game.

“Do you have another sister?” he asked mildly.

She just scowled at him. “She might not wish to play. I think she was resting in her room.”

“I’ll instruct the maid to knock very lightly on her door,” Anthony said, obviously lying.

“Excellent!” Colin said brightly. “We shall be evenly matched. Three men and three women.”

“Does one play on teams?” Kate asked.

“No,” he replied, “but my mother has always been adamant that one must be evenly matched in all things. She’ll be quite disturbed if we go out in odd numbers.”

Kate couldn’t imagine the lovely and gracious woman she’d chatted with just an hour earlier getting upset over a game of Pall Mall, but she figured it wasn’t her place to comment.

“I’ll see to fetching Miss Sheffield,” Anthony murmured, looking insufferably smug. “Colin, why don’t you see
this
Miss Sheffield down to the field and I’ll meet you there in half an hour?”

Kate opened her mouth to protest the arrangements that would leave Edwina alone in the viscount’s company, even for so short a time as a walk down to the field, but in the end she remained silent. There was no reasonable excuse she could give to prevent it, and she knew it.

Anthony caught her fishlike spluttering and quirked one corner of his mouth in the most obnoxious manner before he said, “I’m pleased to see you agree with me, Miss Sheffield.”

She just grumbled. If she’d formed words, they wouldn’t have been polite ones.

“Excellent,” Colin said. “We’ll see you then.”

And then he looped his arm through hers and led her away, leaving Anthony smirking behind them.

Colin and Kate walked about a quarter of a mile from the house to a somewhat uneven clearing bordered on one side by a lake.

“Home of the prodigal red ball, I presume?” Kate queried, motioning to the water.

Colin laughed and nodded. “It’s a pity, because we used to have equipment enough for eight players; Mother had insisted on our purchasing a set that could accommodate all of her children.”

Kate wasn’t certain whether to smile or frown. “Yours is a very close family, isn’t it?”

“The best,” Colin said simply, walking over to a nearby shed.

Kate trailed after him, tapping her hand idly against her thigh. “Do you know what time it is?” she called out.

He paused, pulled out his pocket watch, and flipped it open. “Ten minutes past three.”

“Thank you,” Kate replied, making a mental note of it. They’d probably left Anthony at five to three, and he’d promised to deliver Edwina to the Pall Mall field within thirty minutes, so they should be down at twenty-five past the hour.

Half three at the very latest. Kate was willing to be generous and allow for unavoidable delays. If the viscount had Edwina down by half three, she wouldn’t quibble.

Colin resumed his trek to the shed, Kate watching with
interest as he wrenched open the door. “It sounds rusty,” she commented.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been out here to play,” he said.

“Really? If I had a house like Aubrey Hall, I would never go to London.”

Colin turned around, his hand still on the half-open door to the shed. “You’re a lot like Anthony, did you know that?”

Kate gasped. “Surely you’re joking.”

He shook his head, a strange little smile on his lips. “Perhaps it’s because you’re both the eldest. The Lord knows I’m thankful every day I wasn’t born in Anthony’s shoes.”

“What do you mean?”

Colin shrugged. “I simply wouldn’t want his responsibilities, that’s all. The title, the family, the fortune—it’s a great deal to fit on one man’s shoulders.”

Kate didn’t particularly want to hear how well the viscount had assumed the responsibilities of his title; she didn’t want to hear anything that might change her opinion of him, although she had to confess that she’d been impressed by the apparent sincerity of his apology earlier that afternoon. “What has this to do with Aubrey Hall?” she inquired.

Colin stared at her blankly for a moment, as if he’d forgotten that the conversation had started with her innocent comment about how lovely his country home was. “Nothing, I suppose,” he said finally. “And everything as well. Anthony loves it here.”

“But he spends all his time in London,” Kate said. “Doesn’t he?”

“I know.” Colin shrugged. “Odd, isn’t it?”

Kate had no reply, so she just watched as he pulled the door to the shed all the way open. “Here we are,” he said, pulling out a wheeled cart that had been specially constructed to fit eight mallets and wooden balls. “A bit musty, but none the worse for the wear.”

“Except for the loss of the red ball,” Kate said with a smile.

“I blame that entirely on Daphne,” Colin replied. “I blame everything on Daphne. It makes my life much easier.”

“I heard that!”

Kate turned to see an attractive young couple approaching. The man was devastatingly handsome, with dark, dark hair and light, light eyes. The woman could only be a Bridgerton, with the same chestnut hair as both Anthony and Colin. Not to mention the same bone structure and smile. Kate had heard that all the Bridgertons looked rather alike, but she’d never fully believed it until now.

“Daff!” Colin called out. “You’re just in time to help us put out the wickets.”

She gave him an arch smile. “You didn’t think I’d let you set up the course yourself, do you?” She turned to her husband. “I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Colin said to Kate. “She’s very strong. I’d wager she could toss me clear into the lake.”

Daphne rolled her eyes and turned to Kate. “Since I’m sure my miserable brother won’t do the honors, I’ll introduce myself. I am Daphne, Duchess of Hastings, and this is my husband Simon.”

Kate bobbed a quick curtsy. “Your grace,” she murmured, then turned to the duke and said again, “Your grace.”

Colin waved his hand toward her as he bent down to retrieve the wickets from the Pall Mall cart. “This is Miss Sheffield.”

Daphne looked confused. “I just passed by Anthony at the house. I thought he said he was on his way to fetch Miss Sheffield.”

“My sister,” Kate explained. “Edwina. I am Katharine. Kate to my friends.”

“Well, if you are brave enough to play Pall Mall with the Bridgertons, I definitely want you as my friend,” Daphne said with a wide smile. “Therefore you must call me Daphne. And my husband Simon. Simon?”

“Oh, of course,” he said, and Kate had the distinct
impression that he would have said the same had she just declared the sky orange. Not that he wasn’t listening to her, just that it was clear he adored her to distraction.

This, Kate thought, was what she wanted for Edwina.

“Let me take half of those,” Daphne said, reaching for the wickets in her brother’s hand. “Miss Sheffield andI…that is, Kate and I”—she flashed Kate a friendly grin—“will set up three of them, and you and Simon can do the rest.”

Before Kate could even venture an opinion, Daphne had taken her by the arm and was leading her toward the lake.

“We have to make absolutely certain that Anthony loses his ball in the water,” Daphne muttered. “I have never forgiven him for last time. I thought Benedict and Colin were going to die laughing. And Anthony was the worst. He just stood there smirking. Smirking!” She turned to Kate with a most beleaguered expression. “No one smirks quite like my eldest brother.”

“I know,” Kate muttered under her breath.

Thankfully, the duchess hadn’t heard her. “If I could have killed him, I vow I would have.”

“What will happen once all your balls are lost in the lake?” Kate couldn’t resist asking. “I haven’t played with you lot yet, but you do seem rather competitive, and it seems…”

“That it would be inevitable?” Daphne finished for her. She grinned. “You’re probably right. We have no sense of sportsmanship when it comes to Pall Mall. When a Bridgerton picks up a mallet, we become the worst sorts of cheaters and liars. Truly, the game is less about winning than making sure the other players lose.”

Kate fought for words. “It sounds…”

“Awful?” Daphne grinned. “It’s not. You’ll never have more fun, I guarantee it. But at the rate we’re going, the entire set will end up in the lake ere long. I suppose we’ll have to send to France for another set.” She jammed a
wicket into the ground. “It seems a waste, I know, but worth it to humiliate my brothers.”

Kate tried not to laugh, but she didn’t succeed.

“Do you have any brothers, Miss Sheffield?” Daphne asked.

Since the duchess had forgotten to use her given name, Kate deemed it best to revert to formal manners. “None, your grace,” she replied. “Edwina is my only sibling.”