Chapter One #3
He knew that scent well. It was one of the few things he remembered about his mother.
He’d lost both of his parents to illness during the winter he’d turned four.
He didn’t remember much about either of them, or that winter, or the next few years, other than knowing he had always been the odd man out.
Not that Uncle Donald or his wife, Aunt Ella, or Drake’s girl cousins, Della and Grace, had ever tried to make him feel that way.
But his cousin Archibald certainly had. He’d liked to continuously point out that Drake wasn’t one of them, just an orphan that they’d taken in.
By the time Drake had turned fourteen, he’d had enough of Archibald’s need to disgrace him. When Uncle Donald had allowed him to become a cabin boy on one of Coastal Shipping Line ships, he had been overjoyed.
It had marked the start of the life of his dreams, and he wasn’t done living that life, not by a long shot.
After several steps, the silence surrounding him was echoing in his ears. He’d never liked that point where it felt as if people didn’t know what to say to each other. It tended to make everyone uncomfortable, and he saw no use in that.
‘Do you play croquet often, Lady Meridith?’ he asked.
‘No,’ she replied softly.
‘Me neither,’ he said.
She nodded.
He felt sorry for her, stuck playing croquet with him rather than flirting with some of the young men in attendance. As a kind of consolation, he continued to engage her in conversation. ‘My apologies for that. There’s not much of a chance to play croquet on the deck of the ship.’
She gave another nod. No words. Just a nod.
He pushed down a great need to let out a sigh. Clearly, this was going to be a long day.
As they neared the table where the mallets and balls were laid out, a lady rose from her chair.
The Duchess of Chesterfield was a pretty woman with black hair and brown eyes, who stood only a few inches shorter than her husband.
Drake had met her several times in the past and found her to be quite personable.
He performed a slight bow as they arrived.
‘Hello, Captain Taylor,’ she greeted. ‘So good of you to join us today.’
‘Your Grace.’
‘Please, as I’ve informed you in the past, feel free to call me Alena. Lady Alena, if you must.’ Smiling at her husband, she continued, ‘We are honored to have you attend today, but I must warn you, Peter and I are quite the contenders in croquet.’
It was their house, their party, and he had no doubt that they were quite the contenders because there was an unwritten rule that hosts should often be allowed to win.
The trouble with that was that he wasn’t all that keen on social rules, written or unwritten, nor was he a cheater.
Neither when it would benefit him, nor when it would let someone else succeed.
He believed in honesty no matter what the situation.
He shot a quick grin at his croquet partner. ‘Well, perhaps luck will be with Lady Meridith and I as we put forth our best efforts.’
Lady Meridith’s expression didn’t change.
She remained as stoic as the moment he’d met her minutes ago.
Drake couldn’t say if he was the reason she didn’t want to play croquet or if, like him, she simply didn’t want to be at a garden party today.
Either way, they were both here, and Drake always tried to make the best out of every situation.
Life was too short, too fickle, not to be happy.
When he saw someone not having fun, he tried to change it, so they were at least smiling.
A servant, who was also carrying a notepad and pencil, clearly to keep score, held up a large coin. ‘Heads or tails, Your Grace?’ the man asked.
‘Drake,’ Chesterfield said, ‘you choose.’
Drake turned to Meridith. ‘What do you think, my lady? Heads or tails?’
She gave him a slight one-shouldered shrug.
He leaned closer and whispered, ‘That coin is heads up in his hand, which gives it a 51 percent chance of landing heads up. Tails has a 49 percent chance of landing tails up.’ He’d discovered that years ago.
Her eyes widened slightly.
He grinned at finally having got a reaction, albeit a small one, out of her. ‘A 2 percent chance isn’t much, but it’s there. What do you think? Heads?’
She nodded.
‘Good,’ he whispered, ‘I like those odds. Furthermore, heads are heads and, well, tails are tails.’
She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.
He chuckled and turned to the servant. ‘Heads.’
The servant flipped the coin into the air with his thumb, and they all watched as it twisted and twirled before landing on the ground, heads up.
‘Look at that,’ Drake said to Meridith, ‘we’re already winning.’
She frowned and shook her head, but he noticed that there was a hint of a smile on her lips. It might take him the entire game, but he’d have Lady Meridith truly smiling—if not laughing—by the end of it.
He took the black mallet from the servant and held out the blue one to Meridith. ‘Ladies first,’ he said.
She took the mallet and walked up to where the blue, red, black, and yellow balls were lined up on the grass. Her disinterest was again visible when she took a stance and haphazardly hit the blue ball.
It rolled a short distance before coming to a stop, but he still clapped as if it had already sped through the first hoop. ‘Great shot!’ he shouted. ‘Great shot!’
He took the way that Meridith’s cheeks turned slightly pink as a sign that he would achieve his goal, whether they lost the game or not. She reminded him of a little turtle, peering out from beneath her shell, and he wanted to see her with her head completely out, and happy about it.
Alena shot the red ball next, and it rolled several yards beyond Meridith’s. Keeping up his enthusiasm, Drake clapped again. ‘Good shot! Good shot.’
He was next and took his stance, making a show of planting his feet in the right place before he smacked the black ball with the mallet. It rolled well past both of the other balls, stopping in line of the hoop, setting up his next shot.
The others clapped, and he gave a nod of acknowledgement while stepping aside for Chesterfield to hit the yellow ball. The duke struck the ball, and it rolled a goodly amount, but stopped shy of Drake’s black ball.
While clapping, Drake said, ‘Nice shot.’ He then turned to Meridith. ‘Your turn, Merry Girl.’
Her expression was emotionless, yet she quietly said, ‘Meridith.’
Walking beside her towards her blue ball, he whispered, ‘Meridith, got it. Just so you know, you don’t have to let them win just because they are the duke and duchess, nor because he’s your brother.
Go ahead and give that ball a good old whack.
One that will send it flying. Show them what you’re made of. ’
She turned her head to stare at him with a hint of surprise in her blue eyes.
Giving her a nod, he whispered, ‘It’s no fun if you plan on losing right from the start. You’ve got to live a little. Take control.’
He liked the way her gaze turned thoughtful as she moved towards the ball.
This time, the way she planted her feet on the ground was more purposeful, as was the way she smacked the ball. It rolled forward with intense speed and knocked into Alena’s.
‘Croquet!’ Drake shouted. ‘Good shot, partner!’
He felt like a winner when a smile appeared on Meridith’s face as she took her stance to take her bonus shots. The second hit sent her ball through the hoop.
‘Yes! Nice clean shot!’ Drake said as they moved to start the next set. ‘I daresay that I might have the best croquet partner I’ve ever had.’
‘That’s our Meridith,’ Chesterfield said. ‘She can surprise us every now and again.’
‘I like surprises,’ Drake said, dropping his ball next to Meridith. ‘It’s your turn again.’ He winked at her. ‘Give them another surprise.’
And on it went from there. He kept praising her, and though she remained as quiet as a church mouse on Sunday morning, a smile brightened her face more and more often.
The sunny expression made her go from attractive to quite enchanting, forcing Drake to admit that she was most definitely the best-looking croquet partner he’d ever had.
By the time they’d made their way through all six hoops, he and Alena had pegged out, leaving just Meridith and Chesterfield left with balls on the course.
Chesterfield had an easy shot, but Meridith still had a chance to hit the peg first. Drake discovered that he was holding his breath.
For him, a win or loss didn’t matter, but he wanted Meridith to get a win.
The servant called out the score, which had them in the lead. However, Meridith stepped over to the man and whispered something to him. Her words caused the man to relook at the scorecard, and he corrected his announcement: they were tied.
Smart, honest, and beautiful. Drake was impressed.
Meridith stepped up to her ball and the way she angled herself made him smile.
Rather than going straight for the win, she was aiming at taking out her brother’s ball.
If played right, her extra shot for getting a croquet would put them in the lead, and hitting the peg with her next shot would give them the win.
It was a risk, because if she didn’t hit her brother’s ball, their team would lose for sure. Chesterfield was lined up to hit the peg in one shot.
She hit her ball, it rolled into her brother’s, knocking it out of the way, and while Drake was still clapping and repeating, ‘good shot,’ she took her second shot and pegged out.
He was so excited for her that, impulsively, he wrapped her in a solid hug. ‘I knew you could do it!’