Chapter 7 #2
"Is mutually beneficial." He looked out across the garden.
"Her father has wronged her as much as he wronged Henry.
More, perhaps. She and her sister have been left with nothing — no home, no dowry, no protection.
Lord Norish did that to them as casually as he did everything else and then vanished and left them to carry the weight of his name.
" His jaw tightened. "If catching him means they get their dowries back and their futures restored, then I am not simply pursuing revenge.
I am pursuing something resembling justice. "
"So you're sure she's going to help you, then?" Anthony asked dubiously. "I still don't understand why she'd agree to such a strange arrangement with a man she barely knows, to trap her own father."
"Mark my words, by the end of today, she'll have no choice but to agree." He paused. "And before you say it, I am not forcing her hand. I am simply making sure she understands that the alternative is considerably worse."
Anthony nodded thoughtfully, and his next words carried a note of warning.
"Well, I'm still not sure it's a good idea, but I know better than to get in your way when you want something.
Just promise me that you're not going to do anything to get yourself — or her — hurt.
Not for the sake of a man like Lord Norish. "
Leander looked at him. "The last thing I intend is to hurt anyone.
I want what belonged to Henry. That is all.
" He said it placidly, but the plainness of it carried everything beneath — the image of Henry in those last months, diminished and too proud to accept help, pawning the one thing that had kept him tethered to his father's memory.
The promise Leander had made at his bedside, which had felt like the least he could offer a man who had given him everything.
"Henry spent the last year of his life believing he had lost that watch.
That it was gone. I will not let that be how the story ends for him. "
Anthony said nothing. He didn't need to. He had known Henry, too.
Anthony looked over at the doors sharply as the Norish sisters finally came into view, chattering excitedly with Lady Bendon as they made their way down the garden. “It’s not your intentions I’m worried about, Leander.”
Leander, though, having spied Miss Norish too, was no longer listening to his friend.
Miss Poppy Norish was animated, her head tilting as she laughed at something her aunt said. Miss Julia Norish was a half-step behind them, her face quieter, turned slightly toward the flowerbeds as though she was cataloging the colors.
Something in his chest shifted in a way he had no language for and no patience to examine.
He tipped his hat to Anthony and started to make his way over to the trio of ladies, hoping to have a word with Miss Norish and secure her partnership.
However, before he could reach them, he was unfortunately overwhelmed by a large crowd of guests who stepped into his path, blocking his view. Suppressing a sigh, he smiled politely.
“Oh, Your Grace, we are so excited for today’s game,” trilled Lady Burbank, whose long, pale green dress was completely inappropriate for this sort of event. He raised an eyebrow doubtfully. “We’re all simply dying to know, have you chosen a partner yet? My daughter is available, you know.”
Leander tried in vain to see past them to where he’d last noticed Julia, but she had already vanished into the sea of guests. “Yes, Lady Burbank, I’m afraid I’m already spoken for. Do excuse me, won’t you? My apologies, but I need to prepare myself for the game and find my partner.”
He broke away from the group and looked around again, finally locating Miss Norish milling around with the rest near the starting area of the course. He hurried up to her, pointedly ignoring any fresh attempts to engage him in conversation. At this stage, he didn’t care if he appeared rude.
“Miss Norish,” he greeted her, and she turned to him with a polite curtsey. “Are you prepared for the game?”
“I am. I’ve agreed to partner up with Lord Blackwell.” She indicated the man in question, who was a little way off, struggling to roll up his oversized sleeves and grip the mallet with his sweaty hands.
Leander raised an eyebrow. She was deliberately harming her chances of winning by teaming up with that buffoon, but then again, he was likely the only other man here who would agree to be seen with her, given the scandal.
Was she really that averse to being partners with him?
Once again, for some reason, the thought didn’t sit well.
He cleared his throat. “I see. May I ask why?”
She shrugged, and he thought he saw a hint of guilt cross her features for a moment, but then it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced with a challenging smile. “You weren’t observant enough, and you approached me a little too late at breakfast.”
He crossed his arms. Fine, if she wanted to play this way, he would rise to meet her. “It seems we’ll be competitors, then.”
“Indeed. I wish you the best of luck, Your Grace.”
“How about we make the game a little more interesting?” he asked in a faux-casual tone. “If I win, you must agree to my deal.”
Julia looked him up and down. “And if I beat you?”
He shrugged. “I shall owe you a favor. It doesn’t hurt to have a Duke in your debt. It’s needless to discuss, though, since it won’t happen.”
“Fine,” she replied, holding out a hand. “Agreed.”
He shook her hand, trying not to notice how warm her fingers felt even through the delicate white gloves. He could feel the softness of skin against his rough fingers, or how her entire hand was enveloped in just his palm. “Deal, then. I look forward to claiming the spoils of victory.”
“Who will you be partnering with for the match?” she asked innocently.
Damn and blast, I need a partner. He’d forgotten that detail in his eagerness, and looking around, it seemed that most people had already assembled into pairs. In fact, the only lady who remained alone was…
“Miss Burbank.” Leander tipped his hat. “It seems I find myself without a partner after all. Would you like to team up with me?”
“I’d be thrilled, Your Grace,” she simpered, fiddling with a lock of her blonde hair. He was fairly certain she would be worse than useless at the game, judging by her stiff attire and chittering manner, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need her help to win.
He took his place with the others at the starting area, catching Miss Norish’s defiant gaze for a moment before looking over to Anthony, who was the umpire for the day.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our very special Pall Mall!”
The game wasn’t the usual form of Pall Mall, which would normally be played on a soft, flat green with a regulation height wicket.
This version had been developed by himself, Henry, and Anthony when they were children, and involved obstacles, rough terrain, hills, and all manner of other additions designed to make the game more adventurous.
As Anthony described the course and showed the locations of the various wickets, Leander enjoyed watching Miss Norish’s face turn from confident to surprised to incredulous.
There was absolutely no way he could lose.