Chapter 12
Kate lurked on the fringes of the crowd, wondering what she was going to do now.
Nathaniel was obviously talented at skittles, and here she was, about to make a complete and utter fool out of herself.
This was going to be bad enough without humiliating herself in front of the man for whom she was suffering a horrible tendre.
She decided to wait. The courtyard was crowded, and she soon lost track of him. Perhaps he wouldn’t spot her, either.
Five minutes passed, and she saw no sign of Nathaniel. Perhaps he had headed back inside. She did a quick sweep of the courtyard, but he wasn’t there.
Thank goodness! She hadn’t seen Iain, either. Nobody was making use of the skittles alley. Perhaps she had time for a few practice shots.
She scooped up a ball and brought it to her chest, the way she had seen Nathaniel do. She tried to emulate his form, stepping forward as she swung her arm back.
She promptly dropped the ball at the crest of her backswing, sending it rolling feebly behind her.
She heard a couple of guffaws. Face flushing, she retrieved the ball to try again. This time, she at least managed to throw the ball in the right general direction. But it only advanced halfway down the grassy alley before coming to a stop.
Her heart beat fast. This skittles business was trickier than Nathaniel made it look. But, on the bright side, at least he had gone inside and would not be on hand to witness her humiliation!
“Kit?” a familiar voice called. “Is that you?”
Oh, fiddlesticks!
She looked up and surely enough, Nathaniel was weaving his way through the crowd. He gave her a genial grin, which she answered with an awkward wave.
“So,” he said when he reached her, “what brings you to the Sheep Heid Inn on this fine spring evening?”
She waved a hand toward the opposite side of the courtyard. “Just having a night out with Colin, Arthur, and Roderick to toast our impending departure.”
He glanced around, then dropped his voice low. “In a strange coincidence, I saw Iain Galbreath a moment ago. I hope I’m not overstepping, but you’re not playing against him, are you?”
Kate swallowed. She might as well tell him the awful truth. “I’m afraid I am. You see…”
She quickly filled him in about her confrontation with Iain and Roderick’s subsequent challenge. “So now, I have to defend my honor by defeating Iain in a game of skittles. Except I’ve never played skittles before!”
Nathaniel winced sympathetically. “Would you like to practice a few throws? Perhaps I could offer you some pointers.”
“Would you truly?” Kate didn’t hold out any great hopes that she was going to win. But perhaps she could learn enough that she wouldn’t humiliate herself.
“Of course.” Tilting his head, Nathaniel led her toward the skittles alley. He handed her a ball but didn’t bother to set up the pins. “Let’s see your technique.”
“All right.” Kate felt more nervous than ever with him watching. Her palms had grown slick, and she managed to drop the ball on her own foot.
Nathaniel bent to retrieve it. “That’s all right. Try again.”
Her next two throws went slightly better, but not by much—both balls rolled feebly outside of the designated lane before reaching the pins. Now Kate was starting to panic, because her match with Iain was looming ever closer. How was she going to knock down the pins if she couldn’t even reach them?
After another unsuccessful attempt, Nathaniel stepped forward and scooped up the ball.
“I think I see where the problem lies. You’re releasing the ball too soon.
That’s what’s destroying your momentum.” He drew back his arm and threw the ball himself.
It easily rolled to the end of the alley. “Do you see the difference?”
“I think so.” Kate scooped up a ball and tried again. This time, it rolled past the halfway point of the alley—a new record for her. But it still didn’t reach the place where the pins would be.
“That’s it. Try again,” Nathaniel said encouragingly.
She made two more attempts but still couldn’t get the ball down the length of the alley. She made a sound of frustration. “It’s hopeless. Iain will be back any minute. I’m doomed!”
“You’re closer than you think.” Nathaniel stepped forward. “Let’s practice the throw together.”
Before Kate had a chance to wonder what he meant by together, he stepped so close behind her that her backside was flush against his front. She could feel his warmth through the wool of her coat, and his sweet, fresh scent filled her lungs.
He placed a ball in her hand, then covered her hand with his.
Neither of them were wearing gloves, and she shuddered at the brush of his skin against hers.
Her cheeks were already aflame, but the situation somehow grew even worse when his rich, deep voice rumbled in her ear.
“Like this.” He pulled his arm back, drawing hers with it.
Somehow, she managed to step forward in time with him.
She tried to release the ball, but he squeezed his hand over hers, preventing her from letting it go. At the very peak of the arc, he opened his hand. Kate stared in astonishment as the ball flew down the alley, rolling all the way into the pin area.
She turned to find Nathaniel grinning at her. “Do you see?” he asked.
“I… I think so.”
He scooped up another ball. “Let’s throw a few more, just to be sure.”
Cheeks burning, Kate allowed him to shepherd her through the motion.
If anything, she was worse with Nathaniel’s help, because she was so disconcerted by his proximity.
Her palms were sweaty, and her stomach was aflutter.
Or maybe it was the other way around. Part of her wanted to nuzzle her cheek against his chest, which she could not help but notice was pleasantly firm.
The rest of her wanted to run away and hide beneath one of the tables.
Just then, his hips nestled against the curve of her backside, and it was horrifying how good it felt. She was all but certain that she was on the cusp of doing something truly humiliating when a familiar voice broke her concentration. “Oy, Kit—there ye… What the bloody hell?”
Kate promptly tripped over Nathaniel’s foot, then proceeded to send the ball crashing into the fence. Cheeks aflame, she turned to find Roderick, Colin, and Arthur staring at her, mouths agape.
Nathaniel straightened his jacket as if nothing unusual was taking place. “Language, Roderick.”
Her friends were far less nonchalant. “What are you two doing?” Arthur asked, his eyes darting from Kate to Nathaniel and back again.
“I was just helping Kit with his throw,” Nathaniel said easily. “I understand that he’ll be facing off with Iain Galbreath presently because of someone’s hot temper.” He accompanied this statement with a pointed look in Roderick’s direction.
Roderick’s expression was unremorseful. “What was I supposed to do—stand there and let that miserable cur insult my friend?”
“In a word, yes,” Nathaniel said in the same breath that Kate muttered, “I wouldn’t have minded.”
Roderick shrugged. “Ah, well. Ye’ll just have to show him, Kit. And speak of the devil…”
Surely enough, Iain was approaching. He drew himself up stiffly when he saw Nathaniel standing among them. “Mr. Sterling—what are you doing here?”
“Good evening, Iain. I was just helping Kit here with his throw.”
Iain’s expression shifted into one of wounded dignity. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Everyone knows he’s your favorite.”
“Iain.” Nathaniel’s voice held a note of admonishment. “I would be happy to do the same for you.”
Iain lifted his chin. “That won’t be necessary. I am excellent at skittles.” He spun on his heel and went to select a ball.
Nathaniel sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll go and set up the pins.”
“Excellent at skittles,” Kate muttered as she watched Iain make a few warm-up swings. “Perfect.”
Colin came to stand beside her. “Of course, he thinks he’s excellent at painting, too. Everything is relative.”
“Yes, well, I’ll tell you one thing that is not relative but absolute,” Kate replied. “I am terrible at skittles.”
Roderick slapped her on the back. “Then ye’ll have to rely on beginner’s luck.”
Kate shook her head. “I don’t believe in it.”
“Too bad.” Arthur gave her a shove toward the throwing line. “Off you go!”
Roderick went over the rules. They were to play three rounds, with each round consisting of three throws each.
Iain went first. Kate quickly ascertained that Colin had a point.
Iain’s first throw brought down three pins, and his second two.
But his third ball sailed into the fence.
Five pins didn’t seem like an insurmountable lead.
Then, it was Kate’s turn. Nervous to have so many eyes on her, she rushed her approach and released the ball too early, sending it straight into the ground. Her next throw wasn’t much better, but on the third, she somehow managed to knock over two pins.
In the second round, Iain knocked over two pins with his first throw, but his second shot went wide, and his third shot knocked over just one pin. Kate made two throws that petered out before reaching the pins but managed to knock down three pins on her third attempt.
This meant that going into the final round, Iain was ahead by three pins. Kate felt a faint queasiness that might have been hope. The match wasn’t hopelessly out of reach, after all.
But then, Iain managed to knock down a total of five pins over the course of his final three shots.
Kate performed some quick calculations. She would have to knock over all nine pins in order to win—an impossible feat, considering she couldn’t even consistently send the ball all the way down the alley.
Her hands were slick as she took up the ball, and she wiped them on her breeches. Nathaniel had dropped back into the crowd, perhaps because he did not want to appear to favor one student over another. She noticed Iain’s tutor, Andrew Thompson, standing beside him.
Colin, Arthur, and Roderick huddled around her.