Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Julia had not anticipated the difficulty of the Pall Mall course, but she found that once she got to grips with the placement of the wicket, she was actually rather good at it.
It added a little extra thrill to the usually rather subdued sport, which made the competitive atmosphere all the more engaging.
It wasn’t for everyone, however. She sighed as she watched Lord Blackwell almost topple into the stream for the second time.
She wished she hadn’t had to partner with him, frankly.
But there had been no other available choice; nobody was willing to be seen with her or Poppy right now.
Luckily, Poppy had chosen not to participate in the game, so Julia had immediately hurried over to Lord Blackwell and asked him to partner with her.
She knew he would accept, if only to be safe from the clutches of his would-be wife, and it meant she could spend the day away from the Duke as well.
Although she already knew she was going to agree to his offer, she wasn’t going to make things easy for him, not when he’d been so rude and forceful at the beginning of their acquaintance.
No, now it was her turn to make him prove how determined he was.
Lord Blackwell finally made his shot, red-faced and sweating with effort, and the ball rolled a pitiful distance, ending up just short of the wicket.
Julia stepped in and knocked it through, finishing their final turn.
At least the ball hadn’t ended up in the water, which would have been disastrous.
Their score was by no means outstanding, but she could still win the bet as long as the Duke and Miss Burbank took more than three shots on their turn.
She watched him step up to the ball. His toned, athletic figure was no accident.
She could tell from his posture and skill with the mallet that he was clearly very adept at this game, and so far, he had seemed to handle all the obstacles with ease, even the large tree with spreading roots that had stymied most of the other teams. Certainly, he was far outstripping the abilities of Miss Burbank, who seemed to be struggling almost as much as Lord Blackwell and was complaining loudly about it for all to hear.
The Duke was so focused on his shot that he didn’t even notice her watching him, which was…
unusual. She felt like, normally, his eyes were always on her.
In a peculiar sort of way, she almost missed the sensation.
Just as he drew back his mallet to make the shot, Miss Burbank let out a high-pitched scream.
Everyone turned to see what had happened, and the Duke’s shot went horribly wide as a result of the distraction, landing right by the edge of the creek, far from the wicket.
“Goodness, my dear, are you alright?” Lady Burbank bustled over to her daughter. “What happened?”
“My apologies,” she stuttered. “There was a bee. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Did it sting you? Should I fetch a doctor?”
“No, it didn’t touch me. It just flew away,” she admitted. “I was just startled for a moment.”
Julia could tell from his body language that the Duke was frustrated by the commotion, but to his credit, he behaved very graciously. “I am glad to hear that you are unharmed, Miss Burbank,” he said politely. “It’s your shot, if you are feeling calm enough to take it.”
“Yes, I’m quite well.” Miss Burbank shook off her mother’s hand and took up her mallet.
Her dress was so long that it dragged on the ground behind her as she stepped up.
Julia genuinely believed she was doing her best to win and impress the Duke, but unfortunately, she was simply not cut out for this kind of game, and once again, she spectacularly missed her shot.
The ball rolled away, teetering and then finally landing in the stream with a splash.
“No!” wailed Miss Burbank. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry, Your Grace!”
“That’s quite all right, Miss Burbank, don’t upset yourself.”
Surely this had to be it. Their ball was in the water.
She’d won. She felt a rush of excitement at her victory, happy to have beaten the man at his own game.
It served him right for being so confident - and now he would owe her a favor, which would be particularly useful as they set about building their new lives.
She wondered what she might ask him for with this one request.
Julia immediately began calculating the possibilities.
Could she use this favor to demand he sponsor Poppy for the remainder of the Season?
With the Duke of Ashbourne’s explicit backing, her sister’s matchmaking prospects would be ironclad, safely securing her future.
Or perhaps she could use it to secure herself a respectable position.
Not as a desperate, mistreated governess, but something that allowed her to keep her dignity.
And yet, as her mind raced, a tiny, treasonous corner of her thoughts wondered if she might simply ask for his presence, to have those piercing eyes focused entirely on her, without the shadow of a game between them.
She wondered what an evening with Duke would feel like.
No titles, no airs, just a man and woman enjoying each other’s company.
Caught up in her daydreams, she failed to notice the Duke scanning the creek for any sign of the ball. She was alerted to what was going on by yet another screech from Miss Burbank. “Your Grace, what in the world are you doing?”
“I’m winning the game, of course,” he replied evenly. His gaze lingered for a moment on the spot in the stream where he had found the ball, then turned up towards Julia. He grinned confidently at her as he removed his jacket and stepped right into the water.
Everyone watched in disbelief as he readied his mallet. The chilly water rushing past his knees didn’t seem to bother him as he focused intently on the wicket. Julia held her breath. There was no way - it was an impossible shot. He needed to make it in one if he was going to beat her.
The way he stood there, muscles tense, the water clinging to his legs as he shifted his weight—every movement was fluid, effortless, like he’d been born to play this game.
She found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t explain.
Her gaze lingered on the way his jaw set in concentration.
The slight sheen of water droplets on his skin caught the sun’s light.
With a final flourish, he brought down the mallet hard, and the ball chipped straight up out of the water and rolled neatly down the bank, straight through the iron hoop to stop right beside Julia’s.
For a brief moment, everything else faded. She forgot the game, the others watching, even the rush of the water. All she could focus on was the way he moved—graceful, commanding. A slow heat crept up her neck, and she inhaled sharply, aware of how his presence seemed to fill the air around her.
He raised his eyes to meet hers, the grin turning into a smirk. Julia quickly turned away, but her eyes had a will of their own and returned to him the next moment.
He took the hand of the umpire, who helped him out of the stream, and smoothed his wild hair back with the other, his stare never leaving Julia’s.
She found she couldn’t look away from him.
The water dripped from his body as he accepted his jacket and shrugged it casually back on, as though what he’d just done was barely of note.
He had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat and beaten her fair and square.
Despite her earlier competitive spirit, though, Julia realized that he was definitely a better player and, really, after that shot, he deserved the win.
Now, though, came the difficult part. There would be no favor to be owed, and instead, the Duke would be coming to collect his due.
She decided she would be the bigger person. He was surrounded by a group of sycophantic admirers who were complimenting his final shot and congratulating him on his win. She hovered to the side until they eventually peeled away one by one, leaving him alone.
“Congratulations, Your Grace.” She approached him with a deep breath, holding out her hand. “A splendid victory.”
“Quite,” he replied, shaking her hand again with a twinkle of amusement in his eye. “But I must say, I expected a more spirited challenge from you. Did you not want to win?”
Julia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I wanted to win. But you made it impossible with that shot.” She took a step closer, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Perhaps next time, I’ll make sure it’s not so easy for you.”
His grin widened, that familiar spark of challenge in his eyes. “Next time? I’d like to see that.”
She held his gaze for a moment, then straightened. “And our deal?” she asked, her voice steady despite the quickening pulse she felt.
“I haven’t forgotten,” he said, his tone almost playful. “Fair is fair – we will pretend to court until the end of the party, to see if word gets back to your father.”
“Excellent,” she replied, but something in his voice made her pause. It was casual, but there was a certain edge to it now—a spark of something else.
Julia hesitated, her instincts telling her to tread carefully. “Of course, there will have to be rules,” she added hastily, trying to regain control of the conversation. “We must set boundaries and decide what should be made public.”
“Boundaries?” he echoed, the amusement still there, but now tinged with something more teasing. “Are you certain you can live within them?”
She met his gaze, a small, daring smile curling at her lips. “I’m quite good at keeping things under control, Your Grace.”
At this point, Julia noticed that the gathered crowd of onlookers who had previously been discussing the results of the game were now listening curiously to their conversation. She stiffened slightly, realizing they had become the center of attention.