Ken spun on his heel and planted his feet, sticking his face in Somersworth’s. “Don’t even think it.”
But Somersworth’s smile only grew. “Oh, I’m thinking all sorts of things. Like I’ve never seen you so protective. Not even of Emily. Though I’m not sure Mirabelle needs your diligence. Between the Smiths and her own wits, she’s a woman who can handle herself.”
Ken forced himself to relax as he turned back to Mirabelle. “Your turn,” she sang out with a smile.
Somersworth was correct on both counts and yet…he’d seen her nervousness this morning. Knew she had her own insecurities, and he also knew how ruthless society could be. “She’s still a young woman and the world is so unforgiving.”
Somersworth was quiet for several beats before he stepped away to take his turn. But when he came back, he placed a hand on Boxby’s shoulder. “Not to worry. Mirabelle will not remain unwed for long. She’s got an enticing combination of innocence and devilment that is near irresistible.”
If the words had been meant to comfort him, they did not. If anything, they further rankled him.
Why should he care if Mirabelle married?
He had his own agenda and plans for the immediate future. A wife was not among them.
This was why he’d not wished to spend any more time with her. Every time he was with her, he grew more…attached.
“We won!” Mirabelle called, reaching for Somersworth’s hand. “Well done.”
Somersworth laced his fingers through hers, giving a wicked grin. “I can hardly take the credit.”
“You’re too modest, Lord Somersworth. Your playing was excellent.” He laughed, that flirty rolling baritone that Somersworth used whenever he was attempting to charm a woman.
Ken clenched his teeth.
“I’m not normally much for yard games, but I’d play with you anytime.” He winked then. An actual wink that pushed a growl out of Ken’s mouth.
Somersworth ignored him, offering Mirabelle his arm. “Shall I escort you inside? I don’t know how much longer the rain will hold off, but it would be best to see you ladies safely tucked in the house before it does.”
“Oh, thank you,” Mirabelle said with a smile. “But I’ll help Lord Boxby place the equipment in the shed.” Then she leaned closer. “We have a wager to settle.”
Somersworth chuckled again, the insufferable git, but gave a nod as he offered Anna his arm. “Shall we?”
Anna gave a tentative nod as she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.
But he hardly noticed as Mirabelle began picking up the balls to place in the case. He watched her fluid movement as he swallowed down a lump.
“We should follow Anna and Somersworth. I wouldn’t want to raise the ire of your brothers.”
“In a moment,” Mirabelle said as she snapped the wooden box shut and straightened. “For my boon, I think I shall take the offered tea. After we return to London? I can practice being hostess and you will be able to visit Emily.”
His shoulders relaxed.
They’d both won after all. Of course, she’d won the actual game, but they were both getting a prize. “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you, Lord Boxby.”
“Ken,” he corrected with a smile.
“Ken,” she repeated, her chin dipping. Then her gaze rose again. “Do you think…” She swallowed, her fingers pressing together. “Do you think I could be a success?”
He didn’t know quite how to answer that question.
Certainly, she was a beauty. And she had some real grit inside her. “To actually be a success in society, one must often have some very sharp edges. Kindness isn’t really favored.”
He picked up the box to bring it into the shed as she gazed thoughtfully at the trees. “Oh. I see. So it’s not all that different from where I grew up.”
“Where did you? Grow up, that is?”