Chapter 26
Anne had only explored four additional rooms before supper, and none of them had a secret passageway.
She had some hope in the billiards room where men would gather and brag about their business dealings and romantic conquests.
At least that was her experience at her brother’s estate in Kent.
Although there had been no secret passageways in Greenview Park, Anne had stationed herself outside the door of Andrew’s billiards room on occasion.
With good food and drink in their bellies, the men had been less than circumspect, their voices growing boisterous. And amid the clack of the balls, she’d heard a good deal of interesting information.
Yet even with the disappointment of not finding the passage, another more delightful idea crossed her mind. And she presented it to her husband at supper that evening.
“Colin, I’m so glad you have a billiards room.”
He gazed at her over his wineglass. “And why is that?”
“I do love to play.”
He choked on his wine, and sputtering, blotted a serviette to his lips. “You play billiards?”
Didn’t I just say that? Are you hard of hearing?
“You did, but no, my hearing is perfectly fine.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Even in my advanced age.”
Oh, dear.
“I am surprised, though. From your use of the word fluke, you obviously had some knowledge of the game, but I never imagined you actually played it. Honoria was never interested. She preferred reading.”
Anne laughed. “Odd you mentioned that. I found a book stuck between several of my gowns. I mentioned in passing I had started reading it, and Honoria must have instructed the servants to pack it. It’s about a meddling woman named Emma.”
“Meddling, eh? In what way?”
“Matchmaking. And there’s this man, Mr. Knightley, who is always criticizing her, which, in my opinion, is not very knightly.”
“If she’s meddling, perhaps she is in need of correction and criticism. But please enlighten me; how should this Mr. Knightley live up to his name?”
“A suit of armor like the one in your library wouldn’t hurt.
” She pushed the image of the knight prowling the halls at midnight from her mind and focused on the more positive aspects.
“Knights are chivalrous and protective, aren’t they?
They don’t point out your every minor flaw.
” She gave a soft huff. “And how did we get off topic?”
He had the nerve to laugh. “I didn’t realize there was a topic. With you, I never know. Kindly refresh my memory.”
“Billiards. You said Honoria preferred reading, and I mentioned the book she had tucked in my trunk.”
He laughed again, the cad. “If I may refresh your memory, you were the one who began telling me about the book. But by all means, I much prefer the topic of billiards as well.”
“I have a proposition for you.” She could hardly contain her excitement over her wonderful idea.
Setting down his fork, he leaned forward and rested his chin in his palm. “I’m all ears.”
“Well, that would make you look ridiculous, wouldn’t it?”
“Anne. Billiards?”
“Oh, yes. Why do you do that to me and make my mind wander?”
“Proposition, Anne. Stay on point.” He didn’t help when his lips curved in a smile, making her want to kiss them.
Focus. Focus.
“Please do.”
“Ugh. Yes. I challenge you to a game.”
His lovely green eyes widened. “Of billiards?”
Really, the man could be so dense. “Yes. Billiards. What do you think I meant? A game of reading? That would be boring.”
He chuckled, deep and resonant, the same rumble she knew as much by touch as by hearing. “Let’s not get off-topic on books again, shall we? Does this challenge involve a prize of some sort for the winner?”
Not so dense after all, apparently. “Well, of course.” However, why did he have that sparkle in his eyes?
He pushed aside his dessert plate. “Before I accept this challenge, I would like to know what the prize is.”
“The winner’s choice.”
Her Grump glared at her. “More specifically, what would be your prize? In the off chance that you win, of course.”
Off chance! “When I win, you will allow the girls to have a puppy. One from the same litter as the one Mr. Ford brought Burwood.” With no intention of losing, she dearly hoped there would be at least one puppy left.
Eyes narrowed, he studied her. “That’s all? A puppy? No hidden agenda or condition?”
She shook her head, although her mind began to wander and turned again to the supposed secret passageway at the word hidden. “What would you like on the off chance that you win?”
Pursing his lips, he closed his eyes and stroked his chin. “Let me see. What would I like?”
“Don’t strain yourself, especially considering you won’t win.”
“Confident, aren’t you? Very well. I would like to see this book of Alice’s you spoke of, and from it I get to choose”—he glanced around him to where footmen stood silently against the wall—“how we shall spend our evening.”
With a wicked grin, Colin rose and held out his hand to escort her to their match.
In an instant, her desire to win waned at the same moment her cheeks flamed.
Yet, she refused to allow Colin to sway her with promises of pleasure. For the girls, she vowed to do all in her power to secure them a puppy.
Granted, she didn’t know Colin’s skill at billiards, but he clearly underestimated hers. She would offer him a worthy challenge.
With two older brothers and an indulgent father when she was growing up, Anne had pestered them relentlessly to teach her to play.
Something about hitting those little balls around the table was so satisfying.
The crack of ivory against ivory, the plunk as they fell into the pocket, determining spin and angles that resulted in the most amazing shots.
Especially on those days when either Andrew or Arthur teased her mercilessly, and she yearned to put them in their place.
And although it hadn’t been long ago that she’d wished to do the same with Colin, something in the last few days had changed her view of him.
In the game room, Colin called servants to light the oil lamps hanging over the table and requested one of them to remain. “Keep score, Alan. I wouldn’t want my wife to accuse me of cheating.”
Anne wanted to wipe that smug grin off her husband’s face.
Colin selected a cue stick and twirled it between his palms. “What are the rules? I suppose there will be a handicap?”
Picking out a cue stick, she turned and delivered her own wicked grin. “Only if you require one.”
He scoffed, no doubt believing she was all bluster with nothing to back it up. Oh, how she would relish proving him wrong.
“I was referring to a handicap for you, Nymph. But if you truly don’t wish to win that puppy for the girls . . .”
“Generous of you, but no. However, if you change your mind after we begin, I’m willing to allow you five additional points on a game of twenty.”
His eyebrows hitched. “Most generous of you as well. Shall we see if we’re evenly matched?” He placed the balls on the table. “And since you don’t wish me to condescend and allow you, as a woman, to go first, shall we lag to determine order?”
She wanted to examine the table prior to the lag instead of guessing blindly how much force she needed to get her ball closest to the baulk line.
Since it was his home, he would have a better feel of the slope of the table. No matter how well made, or how richly appointed the room in which it stood, Anne found there was always a bit of a slope. Her advantage was that he most likely didn’t realize she knew that.
“Give me a moment.”
First, she walked around the table, assessing not only it, but the floorboards and thick Aubusson carpet.
Barely perceptible, the floorboards gave a creak and dipped ever so slightly toward the windows on the far wall.
She catalogued that as well as how the carpet bunched just a little under the right leg of the table away from the windows.
Amusement sparkled in his eyes when she returned to join him. “Enjoy your stroll around the table?”
In answer, she delivered her most innocent of smiles.
Side-by-side, they leaned forward for the lag. Heat generated from his large body. The room felt suddenly . . . smaller, her corset suddenly . . . tighter, and her mind suddenly . . . unfocused.
Stop it!
“At the count of three,” he said.
Focused on the cue ball in front of her, she waited for the count.
Both balls bounced off the top cushion and rolled toward the baulk, Colin’s gaining a bit more momentum and speed than hers.
As it neared the baulk, Anne’s ball slowed, while Colin’s ball passed the baulk line, bounced into the cushion, and returned several inches above. A good shot, but not the best.
Anne watched her ball inch closer. “Come on. Come on. A little farther.”
Her prayer did not go unanswered, and the ball came to a rest a mere inch from the baulk cushion.
Colin mumbled something that sounded like, “Lucky shot.”
She held her hand to her ear. “What was that, my lord?”
Brow furrowed and ears red at the tips, he looked rather adorable. She would thoroughly enjoy beating him.
His smiles and bravado dissipated. “Choose who breaks, madam.”
“So formal. Is that cue stick lodged up your . . .?” She motioned to his behind. A muffled snort sounded from the footman stationed behind her.
As much as she hated allowing him to score points early, she needed to evaluate his skill level. In addition, until both cue balls were on the table, making a cannon was impossible, and she intended to double up on her scoring with every opportunity.
She handed him the white cue ball. “Please, be my guest.”
As he removed the ball from her grasp, his fingers caressed her skin. His eyes flared, the black of his pupils nearly obliterating the lovely green of his irises.
Heat rushed up Anne’s neck and settled in her cheeks.
A smug expression of satisfaction passed over his face as he placed his cue ball in the D and bent to take his shot, providing a visual reminder of his remarkably nice bottom.