Whirlwind Affair

She agreed, and they began. Thirty minutes later, after he'd made an exceptionally tricky shot, she remarked in a dry voice, 'I believe someone spends entirely too much time playing this game.'

For the first time since enforcing his ingenious plan, he looked directly at her. It proved a mistake. Her full lips were pursed in a way that immediately generated thoughts of kissing, and a gleam of wry humor sparkled in her golden-brown eyes. His heart thumped, then galloped. And now that he'd looked at her, he couldn't look away.

Slowly straightening from his position leaning over the table, he raised his brows and arranged his features into an exaggerated, haughty expression. 'Too much time?' He affected a sniff. 'Sounds like the sort of comment a player who was lagging in the score would mutter.'

'Hmmm. Exactly how much behind am I?'

'You've scored a total of twelve points. Very impressive for a beginner.'

'And your score?'

'Three hundred and forty-two.'

She nodded her head solemnly. 'I haven't a prayer of winning, do I?'

'Not this game, I'm afraid. But you show great promise.'

'I'm abysmal.'

'Merely inexperienced.'

'Awkward.'

'Unpracticed,' he corrected.

An expression he couldn't decipher came into her eyes. She studied him for several seconds, then said, 'You're remarkably patient.'

And you're remarkably lovely. He shoved the unbidden thought away and offered her a lopsided grin. 'I'm certain you don't mean to sound so surprised.'

A delicate blush colored her cheeks and she averted her gaze. 'Forgive me. It's just that…'

He waited for her to continue, but she merely shook her head. Setting her cue stick on the table, she made him a bow. 'In light of the news that I trail you by three hundred and twenty points-'

'Three hundred and thirty, actually.'

'-and that my chance of winning is slim-'

'Nonexistent.'

'-I suggest we call this game a draw.'

'Very generous of you, I'm sure.'

She shot him an arch look. 'Although my performance today indicates otherwise, I am not completely inept. Observe.' Reaching out, she scooped up the three billiards balls and tossed them into the air. The trio of spheres rotated around as she juggled them with deftness and skill.

'Very impressive,' he said. 'Who taught you that?'

'My father. It is a skill that proved quite useful for entertaining and distracting my rambunctious siblings. I remember one afternoon when Joshua was four,' she said as she tossed the balls ever faster, 'he'd fallen down that morning and scraped his elbows and knees. Poor darling, he was so miserable and sore. To divert his attention, I brought him outside. We walked to the chicken coop, where I decided to entertain him by juggling… with the nearest available objects, which happened to be eggs.'

An odd feeling invaded his chest at the incongruous but utterly charming picture she made-a grown woman garbed in mourning, her face flushed with unmistakable pleasure, juggling billiards balls. 'Was your brother entertained?'

'Oh, my, yes. Especially when I missed.'

'The egg fell on the ground?'

'No. It fell on my face. The second hit my shoulder, and the third landed on top of my head.'

Laughter rumbled in his throat. 'You must have looked quite the sight.'

'Indeed. Joshua, of course, nearly split his sides laughing. And his hilarity only increased when the egg began to dry. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is to have hardened egg on your face?'

'I'm afraid not. While I've frequently suffered from having egg on my face, it's been strictly of the figurative, as opposed to the literal, nature.'

'Well, it's horribly uncomfortable,' she informed him. 'I'd strongly advise against it.'

'And this egg-on-the-face miss you made… was it deliberate?'

He fancied she shrugged. 'It was a small price to pay to see him smile. And now, to end the show…' She tossed the balls high in the air, spun around in a quick circle, then expertly caught them.

'Bravo,' he said, clapping. 'Very well done.'

'Thank you, kind sir. That is exactly what Joshua said… once he ceased laughing.' A faraway look entered her eyes. 'I remember that afternoon so vividly. It was lovely. A very happy day…'

Her voice trailed off, and she was clearly lost in her memories. Robert watched her, imagining her as a young girl, irrepressible and full of fun, mischief, and laughter, letting eggs fall upon her to entertain an injured boy. That was the woman in the sketch Elizabeth had drawn of her. Where had that woman gone? Was she so far lost as to be beyond recall?

His question was answered at that exact instant when she looked at him.

And smiled.

A beautiful, full smile that bloomed on her face like an unfurling flower. It was like the sun appearing from behind a dark cloud. It embraced her entire face, etching a pair of tiny dimples near the corners of her mouth, lighting her eyes, and casting her features with pure pleasure and a hint of deviltry. It was, without question, the most winsome, enchanting smile he'd ever seen.

The impact was like a punch to his heart. Yet before he could gather himself, she dealt him another reeling blow. She laughed. A delighted, mischievous, full-bodied laugh that surely would have beckoned him to join in if she hadn't already struck him senseless.

'Oh, you should have seen Mama's face when she saw me,' she said, shaking her head. 'It was priceless.'

He managed to find his voice. 'She was shocked?'

'Shocked?' An enchanting sound that could only be described as a giggle escaped her. 'Heavens no! With four boisterous children, nothing shocked Mama. She didn't even turn a hair. But when I entered the house, Mrs. Yardly, the nosiest, most disagreeable woman in the village, was visiting.' She screwed her face into a comical pucker, stuck her nose in the air, and mimicked in a high-pitched tone, ' 'What unladylike mess has your hoyden daughter gotten herself into now?'

Her features relaxed and she continued in her normal voice, 'I wanted to crawl under the braided rug, but Mama, bless her, simply looked at Mrs. Yardly as if she'd grown another head. 'Why, Harriet,' Mama said, 'I'm stunned that you do not know that dried egg on one's hair and face is the secret to shinier curls and smoother skin. You'd best start using it, immediately, every day. Unless, of course, you want more lines on your face.''

She covered her lips with her fingertips, but there was no containing her merriment. 'Mama could be quite wicked, I'm afraid.'

His lips curved upward in a grin, and although he knew he appeared perfectly relaxed on the outside, a maelstrom of feelings swirled inside him-all of them warm and aching. Unsettling. And unexpected in their intensity.

'Actually, she sounds delightful,' he said. 'And very much like my own mother, who can somehow convey more with the simple lift of her brows than most people can with an hour of oratory. Fabulous talent, but quite frightening.' He looked heavenward and affected an angelic expression. 'I, of course, being a perfect child, rarely was the victim of Duchess Lifts-the-Brows.' He made a tsking noise. 'Sadly, I fear my brothers did not fare as well.'

She shot him a clearly dubious look, laughter still dancing in her eyes. 'I believe you are telling me what Lady Gaddlestone would refer to as a Banbury tale.'

'I? Never. What makes you suspect such a thing?'

'Several anecdotes Elizabeth shared with me in her letters.'