Chapter 34
The grass still damp from the rain and the air feeling cooler than it had in weeks, Calliope gathered on the front lawn with the others, where Edward had set up two sets of small fence posts he called wickets.
Each set was a little more than two feet in height, with twenty-two yards of space between them, known as the pitch, where the batsmen would run to score points.
Atop the wickets sat two rounded sticks that reminded Calliope of spindles.
These were the bails, and the object of the game was for the throwing team (known as the bowlers) to get the batsmen of the opposing team out before they could score too many runs.
These “outs” were accomplished by either catching a ball the batsmen had hit before it could strike the ground, or by knocking the bails down.
If the batsman made contact, he and a fellow batsman, who stood by the other set of wickets, would run back and forth across the pitch, scoring runs for their team, until the bowling team managed to retrieve the ball and get one of the batsmen out.
“Easy,” Tommy said once Edward had finished explaining the rules and handed him a bat, which was much broader than the American baseball bat.
“We’ll see,” Edward replied before winking at Calliope, making her cheeks warm.
Tommy frowned at the exchange, but Edward called them both to the wickets before he could say anything.
Calliope was shocked at how quickly Edward had been able to recruit the necessary eleven players for each team, gathering footmen and under-gardeners and even his chauffeur to round out the numbers.
Calliope and Tilly were the only women joining in, with Calliope on Edward’s team and Tilly on Tommy’s.
With a hand at the small of her back, Edward directed Calliope to a spot on the field outside the wickets.
“You stand here,” he said, his tone so gentle, so loving, her heartbeat quickened. “Try to catch the ball if it comes your way or throw to the closest fielder if you can’t get it to the bails yourself.”
“I will do my best,” she promised, and then, making his intentions clear in the sight of everyone, he took her hand in his and pressed his lips to her knuckles before moving away, into the bowler’s position.
Calliope could not hide her smile in response, although it faltered at the sight of Tommy, whose mood she could always read at the drop of a hat, and who looked now as if she had betrayed him somehow.
But of course that couldn’t be right, unless he felt that any attention given to a British nobleman was a betrayal of the promise she’d made to return to New York at the end of the summer.
Calliope still could not believe Tommy was here.
He had joked about wishing she were back home in his last letter (a sentiment she had thoroughly returned at the time), but what did he think he could possibly accomplish by coming here, to Whitefawn?
Did he really think he could just whisk her back home?
Tommy was certainly charming—nearly all of the marriageable young ladies of Manhattan’s Four Hundred were in love with him, and those who weren’t just hadn’t met him yet—but even he could not convince Calliope’s mother to do something she did not want to do, and leaving Whitefawn without a ring on Calliope’s finger was the furthest thing from Mrs. Hart’s mind.
And if she were being honest, since that kiss in the lake, it had become the furthest thing from Calliope’s as well.
But now Tommy was here, and she couldn’t help wondering if it was the sign she’d asked for, albeit one she wasn’t particularly happy to receive.
Not that she wasn’t thankful to see one of her dearest friends in all the world after spending the past three months away from him, for she most desperately was, but now she could not help but question everything.
It was as if she had taken a great leap forward only to be pushed back to a teetering precipice, with her beloved and predictable life in New York on one side, an unknowable future in Hampshire on the other, and she caught in the middle, terrified of making a wrong move.
After staring at her for another moment, Tommy held up his bat and refocused on the ball in Edward’s hand.
Edward’s team, as well as everyone else on Tommy’s, laughed.
Edward, grinning, calmed them down with a wave of his hands as he crossed to Tommy and showed how to properly hold the bat, not behind his shoulder like he would in baseball, but in a stance that would allow for a downward swing that would nearly brush the ground like a broom.
Clearly discombobulated by this turn of events, Tommy attempted a practice swing in which he accidentally let go of the bat and watched it sail ten feet in front of him, prompting more chuckles from the experienced cricket players.
Calliope just barely stifled her own giggle out of respect for her friend, hiding it behind a cough.
Edward, ever the gentleman, retrieved the bat for him, slapping Tommy on the back as he handed it over and said, “Nothing to be nervous about, old chap. As you said, this is nothing more than our feeble attempt at baseball.” Walking away, he casually threw over his shoulder, “Which, incidentally, was invented hundreds of years after cricket.”
Edward waited for Tommy to reset, and then, with a determined, confident gleam in his eyes, he ran forward and, swirling the ball in a graceful arc, let it fly.
The ball sailed across the pitch and bounced off the ground, straight at Tommy, who swung the bat too late.
The ball struck the wicket and the bails fell to the ground.
Tommy was out.
Thankfully for Tommy, the rest of his team, minus Tilly, were skilled batsmen, who racked up a good number of points between them before their inning ended, although even Tilly managed to strike the ball and get one run in herself before the fielders knocked her bails over.
Calliope applauded their round, then followed Edward to the pitch.
She was up to bat first. Edward would be her running partner and would take his position in front of the other set of wickets across from her.
“Nervous?” he asked.
“A little,” she admitted. With a glance at Tommy, she dropped her voice to a whisper, “I don’t want to be as bad as him.”
Edward grinned. “You won’t be. Here,” he said as they reached the wicket. “Hold the bat like this.”
Turning her into the circle of his arms, he leaned over her, his forearms brushing hers, his palms covering her hands. His breath fanned her neck as he instructed, “Swing down like this as the ball is coming toward you, then follow through as it bounces up.”
Their bodies moving together, he completed the arc of the swing.
“See what I mean?”
All she could do was nod.
His lesson could not have lasted more than a few seconds, and no one else seemed fazed by the intimacy of the gesture (except her mother, who seemed positively delighted), but Calliope nearly whimpered as Edward moved away.
The desire to bring him back to her, to encircle herself in his embrace and never again know a world in which she was not held by his strong, protective arms, overwhelmed her, so that she almost missed the bowler getting into position.
In one smooth movement, the ball soared through the air. Tracking it as if her life depended upon it, Calliope watched the ball bounce against the earth and arc toward her. Making a quick calculation, she swung the bat just as Edward had shown her, heard a crack, and—
Watched the ball mount into the sky, flying past the farthest fielder.
She was so amazed that, for a moment, she didn’t move.
“Run!” Edward shouted, his smile wide as he raced toward her.
Laughing, Calliope followed suit, lifting her skirts and sprinting as fast as she could toward the opposite wickets. They scored three runs before the bowling team managed to strike the bails from their post.
Everyone applauded her effort, even Tommy, who yelled, “Well done, Callie girl!” But Calliope only had eyes for Edward as he met her in the middle of the pitch and bowed his head.
“You’re a natural,” he told her.
She placed a hand against her chest, trying to catch her breath. “I didn’t know cricket would be so much fun!”
He leaned forward, whispering so no one else could hear, “We can play it anytime you want if you stay.”
He pulled back, his gaze meeting hers once more before moving away, leaving Calliope breathless for a whole different reason.
The game continued on for two more innings after her team’s turn at bat.
Tommy didn’t strike the ball once, and it was only due to the rest of his team’s proficiency that his side lost by only ten points.
Lemonade was served to all participants in the drawing room immediately following the match.
Calliope watched as Edward engaged with the footmen and under-gardeners as if they were his equals, just as he did with the farmers, making her fall more in love with him by the second.
But was it enough to stay?
A half an hour later, the party broke to change for dinner. Calliope moved to follow Edward and her mother out, but Tommy gently took her hand in his own, stopping her.
He waited until the others had left the room but still lowered his voice as he asked, “Would we be able to speak in private later this evening? After dinner?”
“I don’t know how private it can be,” Calliope distractedly replied, her thoughts still on Edward. “Mother wouldn’t like me spending time with you without a chaperone.”
Tommy’s brow furrowed. “Why? We do it all the time in New York.”
“It’s different here. No one knows us, and Mother wouldn’t like to give anyone the wrong impression.” Not while she’s still hoping I’ll leave here as Edward’s intended.
Tommy leaned forward, a mischievous smirk dimpling his cheeks. “I guess we’ll just have to be creative.”
“I don’t know how creative we can be when there are only six other people in our party. They are bound to notice us missing.”
“Trust me,” he said, that notorious Tommy Daily confidence lacing his words. And why shouldn’t it? Between his charm and his family’s wealth, she doubted Tommy had ever heard the word, “No,” in his life.
Calliope shook her head. “We can’t be so rude as to disappear on the same night you forced the dowager countess’s hand in extending an invitation.”
“Forced is a bit strong,” Tommy replied. “I think she rather likes me.”
“Every woman rather likes you, Tommy.”
“I know,” he said. “Isn’t it great?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Come on, Callie,” he murmured, taking her hands in his, his tone suddenly serious. “I traveled three thousand treacherous miles to see you.”
She smirked, her resolve weakening. “You make it sound as though you were stuck shoveling coals in the engine room when I know perfectly well you traveled via your father’s yacht.”
“Actually, via my own yacht,” he replied. “It’s new. I haven’t told you?”
Calliope shook her head.
“Oh, it’s wonderful. I can’t wait to show it to you. Even so, it was a dreadfully long week at sea with only Barry to keep me company.”
Her brow furrowed. “Who’s Barry?”
“A barnacle I found attached to the hull. I’m quite fond of him.”
She shook her head. “What am I to do with you?”
“A moment alone. That’s all I ask.” Hands still clasping hers, Tommy stepped closer, desperation softening his normal bravado. “Please. I have something very important I want to ask you.”
“Let me guess,” Calliope replied. “You’ve grown tired of all the New York girls fawning over you and want me to introduce you to a new crop of debutantes in the English countryside.”
“No, but now that you mention it—”
She swatted his arm.
He laughed. “I’ve missed you.”
She squeezed his hands. “I’ve missed you, too.”
His brows rose. “So . . . ?”
Calliope sighed. “Oh, fine. If you can manage to find a way to get us alone, I’ll play along.”
“Thank you.” He pressed a soft kiss against her cheek, lingering a second longer than he usually did, before starting toward the hall. “What does one wear to an English dinner, anyway?”
“A crushed velvet suit with silk stockings,” she joked, following him.
“Hmm. Good thing I packed my powdered wig.”
Mirth bubbled up in her, joy swelling her heart at the opportunity to laugh with her friend again, but the moment Tommy bid her adieu and hurried up the staircase, her laughter died as the same, sobering thought she’d had earlier returned.
She’d hoped for a sign, something that would make her feel secure in accepting Edward’s proposal, and while her heart insisted on giving more of itself to him at every turn, her mind wouldn’t stop racing, wondering whether Tommy’s unexpected arrival was a sign meant to bring her back from the precipice, telling her that Whitefawn was not meant to be her home after all.