Chapter Fifteen #2
“Ah. The benefits of familiarity.” She adjusted the bowl, her eyes narrowing as she gazed down the lawn at the white ball awaiting her throw. “In exchange for that insight, I will inform you that Artemis is an unabashed and unrepentant cheat.”
She made her toss, the bowl’s arched path placing it a very tidy distance from the kitty.
“Another tidbit: Artemis sighs louder than any other person I know, particularly when she feels she is being bested.”
James handed her a second bowl, which she placed at exactly the same distance from the kitty as the first, only on the opposite side. A third throw came to a stop very nearly in front of the kitty, though slightly off-center.
“Ah.” James smiled. “I believe I see your strategy. To get closer than your bowls, one would have to throw around them, else risk simply knocking them closer.”
Miss Lancaster looked up at him as he handed her the last bowl.
She offered another dimpled smile, something he imagined few people ever saw.
It was more than lovely. Natural and open in that moment, it was rather stunning.
Something about her was decidedly different today, though he couldn’t say just what.
Something in her appearance, perhaps, or in her manner of carrying herself.
Whatever it was, he found he liked it. She was still the same kindhearted person but with an added measure of confidence.
Only after Miss Artemis declared in a voice overflowing with sighs, “One cannot be expected to bowl with such a heartless sister as I have,” did James realize he’d missed his partner’s final throw. Her four bowls sat in near-perfect symmetry, a formidable guard around their treasure.
“A fine round,” James said, feeling pleased that she’d done so well.
“Mark my words,” she answered, her tone lighter than he ever remembered hearing it, “Artemis will find a way to undo what advantage we have.”
The prospect didn’t seem to overly alarm her. He was not expected to prevent the inevitable underhandedness nor find a means by which they could win. Miss Lancaster had, in her unspoken and calm way, given him leave to not worry for a moment—a luxury with which he had very little experience.
Miss Artemis began her turn with a truly dismal throw, followed by a very dramatic sigh.
James bit back a smile and saw out of the corner of his eye Miss Lancaster do the same.
“Sighing is one of her talents,” she said.
“More than a talent, I would say. The girl is a prodigy.” How they both maintained straight faces, James could not say. “Regardless, I do believe you have her beat.”
“Lawn games are, perhaps, the only area in which I am remotely her equal,” Miss Lancaster said.
“I take leave to doubt that.” The honest comment earned James one more fleeting glimpse of her dimple.
Miss Artemis’s remaining throws hardly improved. All James needed to do was place his own bowls in such a way as to make Ben’s usual strategy extremely difficult to implement.
Miss Lancaster handed him his first bowl. “I believe we will slaughter them after all.”
“I certainly hope so,” he replied.
He lined up his first throw.
A high-pitched yipping sound was his only warning before a blur of fur and noise dashed onto the bowling green. Mother’s latest adopted mutt had been banished to the stables for damaging the furniture in Mother’s dressing room, but its natural exuberance apparently had not abated.
James moved swiftly toward the pup. “Leave those be, you scamp.” His directives came decidedly too late. Not one of the bowls remained unmoved and the kitty resided in the fur ball’s mouth.
The pup trotted over to him quite as if he were a hound bringing his master the prize catch of the hunt.
James squatted in front of the troublemaker. “That was not terribly sociable of you.” A pair of enormous brown eyes watched him hopefully. “You’ve ruined the game, you realize.” The pup dropped the now-wet white ball into James’s outstretched hand.
Alarm pulled at Mother’s features. She would worry over having the afternoon’s activities ruined and the impression that would make on their guests. But what could he do? How was one expected to curb the enthusiasm of a puppy?
James heard someone approach, the swish of skirts indicating a woman. He looked over his shoulder to find Miss Lancaster standing next to him.
“I am sorry about the game,” he said. “We would most likely have won if not for this mongrel’s interference.” He could not think of a means of salvaging the game. Miss Lancaster would be disappointed.
“I told you my sister cheats.”
He had not been expecting that reply.
Miss Lancaster shook her head. “No doubt she found some means of summoning her four-legged accomplice at the most opportune moment.”
James rose, watching her in confusion. He tried to nudge the puppy away when it began snapping at the tassel on his left boot. That was all she had come over to say to him? No complaints? No demands? “You are not too disappointed about the game?”
She laid her hand lightly on his arm and once more offered her unaffected smile. “It is only a game. There is no real harm done.”
“A level head in a crisis.” James tossed the kitty back onto the lawn and wiped the puppy slobber off his hand with his handkerchief. “That is a pleasant change.”
“Would a disrupted game of bowls generally be considered a crisis?” she asked.
He looked over at Mother still clutching her hands together in anticipation of something catastrophic. She could be very difficult when distraught. “In this house, everything is a crisis.”
“And you are always expected to rescue the others?” Miss Lancaster asked.
That was more insightful than expected. He had a feeling a response was not at all necessary.
“Might I make a suggestion?” she asked.
She wanted to address his problem? James nodded, as curious as he was surprised.
“Allow your brother to sort out the mess this time.”
He couldn’t simply walk away. “This little scamp has quite upset things.” As if to further prove his mischievous nature, the puppy continued nipping at James’s tassels.
Miss Lancaster motioned toward the end of the bowling green where Ben had already gathered the scattered bowls and seemed to be setting up another game. “Mr. Tilburn appears capable enough.”
“I should make good my escape, then?” The prospect was tempting.
Miss Lancaster nodded. “Allowing someone else to take on the responsibilities you usually undertake would probably be good for all concerned.”
James had never walked away from a family difficulty, little or great. To leave the others to address a problem felt uncomfortably foreign. Yet Miss Lancaster watched him with patient anticipation.
The situation was not in the least dire. He might allow himself to see to his own amusement for just a moment. Surely that was not asking too much.
“I, for one,” he said, “would very much like to know how this mutt will react to the sight of a shuttlecock.” James felt remarkably light as he escorted Miss Lancaster to the basket of lawn games. There was something to be said for a smile he hadn’t been required to earn.