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For the next little while, the group didn’t talk as much as they finished their meal. Nic kept his eyes on the woman next to him, and especially Mr. Jacobs. It relieved Nic that the other man didn’t try to talk privately with Tabitha now, but included Sally in on the conversation.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Mrs. Burls announced as Mrs. Stiles took her empty plate back to the table, “but I would like us all to play a lawn game. I have good memories of playing Bowls when I was a child, and it still brings me joy as an old woman.” She looked at the maid.

“Sally, I would like you to join us, if that is all right.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Sally muttered, keeping her gaze down.

Once everyone returned their empty plates to the table, they strolled out to the lawn that was set up for the game.

It relieved Nic when Mrs. Burls didn’t pair anyone up or put them in groups—only because he knew the old woman would put him and Tabitha together. Clara was definitely one sneaky aunt.

Everyone selected their ball, but only Sally appeared confused as she held hers against her bosom. Nic walked to her. “Is something amiss, Sally?”

“I, um…I don’t think I know how to play.”

It never occurred to him that servants weren’t able to play the game, but perhaps Sally was never given the chance. Nevertheless, it was his civic duty to teach her. Unless…

He took a quick glance at Mr. Jacobs who stood entirely too close to Tabitha, smiling much too wide, and laughing more than Nic thought the other man should. In an instant, an idea popped into Nic’s head. He now knew the perfect solution!

*

Tabitha couldn’t believe how much she enjoyed Mr. Jacobs’ company.

He really was a nice man, and he was trying hard to charm her.

True, he couldn’t compare to Lord Hawthorne’s knee-weakening charm, but Mr. Jacobs was doing his best, and she appreciated that he was more entertaining than she expected him to be.

The longer he was with her, the more he relaxed and she could actually see his true nature.

But Nic kept drawing her attention as well.

Some of the things he had said and done already this afternoon caused her to be wary.

What she wouldn’t give to know his thoughts.

Then again, she didn’t need to read his mind to know how it had irritated him because she was so chummy with Mr. Jacobs.

Yet, that didn’t explain why Nic was being so nice to Sally.

“See, the object of the game is to throw our ball and try to hit those at that end,” Nic explained to the maid as he stood very close to her. “In the many years I have played this game, I have found that holding the ball the right way is the key to making it go farther.”

What is he talking about? Tabitha narrowed her gaze on the pair. Nic tried so diligently to show Sally how to hold the ball, it was almost comical. There was no right way to hold the ball. Not really. The key was how to throw it with the correct amount of strength.

“See, you put your hands like so…” Nic instructed as he tried in the most proper way he could without actually putting his arms around Sally.

Beside Tabitha, a low grumble released from Mr. Jacobs’ throat. She swung her gaze to him. He was watching the odd pair as well, shaking his head. Expelling a heavy sigh, he muttered an apology and left Tabitha to go assist Sally and Nic.

“If you will permit me to show you,” he said to Sally, “I would gladly assist you in any way I can.”

Sally’s cheeks turned a bright pink when she stared into Mr. Jacob’s face.

Slowly, the maid nodded as she handed him the ball.

When he moved beside her to display the correct stance, Sally couldn’t take her eyes off him.

When the man moved behind the maid and moved her arm in the correct position, Tabitha was surprised to see how much Sally was enjoying the attention.

Shock splashed over Tabitha as she witnessed the subtle way her maid flirted with Mr. Jacobs.

It wasn’t outright obvious that Sally had taken a fancy to the other man, yet Tabitha could read her friend’s expression perfectly.

The huge eyes and fluttering eyelashes told the story, as well as Sally’s gracious smile that gradually grew the longer she stared at Mr. Jacobs.

Even the light laughs bubbling up from the girl’s throat let Tabitha know how smitten the maid was for this man.

Tabitha grinned as happiness filled her and she wanted to shout with joy.

Finally, after all this time Sally felt relaxed around a man.

Ever since their former employer had beaten Sally within an inch of her life, the girl had not wanted to get near anyone of the male gender, let alone speak with them.

But now, the maid practically glowed while standing so close to Mr. Jacobs.

The longer Tabitha studied him, the more she could see that he was quite aware of Sally’s interest. Of course he was.

There was nothing more attractive to a man than to have a woman doe-eyed and giddy with infatuation.

When he talked with Sally, his gaze held hers longer than normal, and the color in his eyes even softened quite a bit.

A few times a red hue would light the man’s cheeks as well.

Never had he been that way around Tabitha.

After she had a minute to think about it, she realized her initial reaction was changing quickly.

Doubts lingered in her head. Why hadn’t he acted that way around her?

Was it because she’d never acted as giddy and innocent as Sally was doing?

After all, she’d never been infatuated with the blacksmith.

Well not yet, anyway. But given some time, maybe she would have been.

The longer she watched the two, the more she realized Mr. Jacobs was becoming smitten with Sally— not Tabitha.

She knew when to step back and allow another woman to try to catch a man, and she would gladly let Sally be the one who was happy right now.

Mr. Jacobs and Sally suited each other perfectly.

Of course that only meant that Tabitha needed to find another man who might take her mind off Nic. There were several men in this township, so she was certain she could find someone.

She glanced at Nic. He watched Sally and the blacksmith with keen interest. A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth, growing wider as each second passed.

Slowly anger filled her head. Nic had this planned all along!

Obviously, he was behind putting the blacksmith and the maid together.

Ohhhh! Tabitha fisted her hands. He had interfered in her life on purpose!

Was he going to do this with all the men she tried to take an interest in?

Of course he would! Somehow, some way, she needed to tell him to stop meddling in her life.

“Now do you understand how to play,” Mr. Jacobs asked Sally with tenderness coating his voice.

The maid stared at him with a starry-eyed gaze and nodded. “Indeed, I do. I thank you for your help.”

He flashed her with a teasing grin. “Think nothing of it. Let me know if you have any more problems with the game.”

Using the anger flowing through her, Tabitha put all of her emotions into the game.

One by one, she knocked all the other balls aside, which put her in the lead.

Not once did anyone inquire as to what was wrong with her, which suited her just fine right now.

She would definitely become too vocal if anyone asked.

Nic, however, noticed. Although she didn’t want to look at him very much—for fear she’d give away her annoyance for him at this time—she still could see how he gloated on his recent victory.

She didn’t have to ask him if this had been his plan all along.

The triumphant smile on his face said it all.

He even chatted more playfully with Aunt Clara and Mrs. Stiles, proving his jovial spirit.

Once in a while, his gaze connected with Tabitha and his impish grin softened.

The look in his eyes became more affectionate… which made her even angrier.

She spun around and put her focus on Aunt Clara who was in the process of throwing her ball. The older woman didn’t have a lot of strength, but she tried her best. After throwing the ball, Aunt Clara stumbled.

Tabitha rushed to her side and grasped her elbow. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, dear. Although this is my favorite game, I just don’t have the strength that I used to have.” Clara frowned and shook her head. “But I’m enjoying myself nonetheless.”

“Mrs. Burls,” Nic said as he stopped beside Tabitha, “you appear exhausted. Would you like me to take you back to the veranda?”

“Heavens no, Mr. Woodland. I would rather you stay right here by Tabitha and play. I can see myself to the veranda just fine.” She straightened and smiled. “And I give you permission to visit with my grandniece for a little while, as well.”

Aunt Clara turned and made her way back toward the house.

Tabitha wondered if her intrusive aunt had planned this, too.

This afternoon was full of plans; Tabitha trying to become interested in the blacksmith, Nic trying to get Mr. Jacobs more aware of Sally, and of course, her wonderful aunt and the companion who just didn’t know when to stop trying to find Tabitha a husband.

Hers was the only plan that hadn’t worked out well.

She glanced at the others. Mrs. Stiles now stood by Mr. Jacobs and Sally roughly ten steps away. Tabitha knew if she and Nic talked in low voices, nobody would hear them.

She switched her gaze back to Nic, who as always, wore a self-assured grin…the kind she wanted to slap off his face right now. “Mr. Woodland,” she snipped. “I would appreciate it if you would stop sticking your nose into other people’s lives.”

Confusion replaced his self-assured look as he slowly shook his head. “I fear, Miss Tabitha, that I don’t quite understand your meaning.”

“Nic,” she growled quieter. “I think you most certainly do understand what I’m saying.” She threw a quick glance at Mr. Jacobs and Sally. “I believe that you are trying to keep me from getting to know other men.”

Chuckling, he shook his head and turned to toss his ball at the other balls on the grass.

“My dear, sweet woman. If you can’t see how your maid looks upon that blacksmith with adoring eyes, then I’m afraid you’re a lost cause.

However, I can see that Mr. Jacobs is just as interested in your friend. ”

Tabitha tried hard not to stomp her foot—or clobber the man beside her.

She prayed that she could keep her wits about her and not lash out her frustration on the man who’d ruined her afternoon.

It would be hard, though, and she feared by the end of this luncheon, one of them would be sporting a bruise.