Page 25 of The Hellion and the Captain (Scandals and Scores #2)

Chapter Twenty-One

T he crowd’s roar was deafening as Rhys led his team onto the pitch. Today’s match against the Liverpool Rovers would decide who would advance to the next game, taking them one step closer to the FA Cup. The stakes had never been higher.

It had been a few weeks since Rhys had discovered Emmaline’s secret gathering in her clearing.

Since then, about half of the women had remained interested in continuing with the club, showing up for one practice a week.

Rhys enjoyed working with them, most especially because it gave him the opportunity to watch Emmaline step into a role where she thrived.

The next significant step was to find sponsors and make her club the reputable one she was hoping for, as well as finding another club to play against.

She and Rhys had also found a few stolen moments, but truth be told, he could hardly wait until he had the opportunity to court her properly. Yes, her father might kick him out on his arse, but he had a feeling that Emmaline wouldn’t let that deter her .

Until then, he would have to wait. In the process, if they won a Cup, that wouldn’t be so bad.

Rhys gathered the men and Emmaline for a final pep talk before the game began.

His gaze lingered on Emmaline, as it always did, despite his best intentions, noting the determination burning in those unusual violet eyes he adored.

They exchanged a subtle nod, an unspoken promise to leave it all on the field.

From the first kick of the ball, the game was a battle for dominance.

Liverpool played with punishing physicality, but Manchester Central gave as good as they got.

Rhys summoned the defense to do all they could to keep the ball out of their end, let alone their goal, barking orders and throwing his body in front of shots.

Meanwhile, Colin, Felix and the midfielders worked tirelessly to win back possession and spring counterattacks.

Then there was Emmaline, a revelation at outside forward.

She flew down the wing, the cap that covered the waves of hair he loved so much bouncing as she ran, leaving defenders in her wake.

She played the game so differently from the men, her creativity and tenacity creating chances, forcing the Rovers’ keeper to stay on his toes.

The game was still scoreless at the half, and Rhys praised his club’s efforts but demanded more.

“This is what we’ve worked for,” he growled. “Don’t let them take this from us.”

Rousing cheers answered him as they retook the field. The game opened up as both teams chased the breakthrough goal. Rhys’s heart pounded as he pushed himself to the limit, denying the Rovers at every turn.

With fifteen minutes remaining, Emmaline pounced on a turnover in midfield.

She accelerated into space and found Tommy, sending it flying across the field toward him with a strong kick.

The striker took one touch to round the rushing keeper and sent it home, igniting thunderous celebrations in the stands.

Manchester Central dug deep to protect their slender advantage as the Rovers laid siege to their goal. With desperate tackles and last-ditch clearances, they were able to hold them off until, finally, mercifully, the game came to a close.

Pandemonium erupted as the realization of their achievement sank in. They were moving on. They still had a chance. Rhys was engulfed in a mass of bouncing, hugging bodies, a tangle of sweat-soaked limbs and delirious grins.

As the initial euphoria subsided, he sought out Emmaline, wishing he could show her how he truly felt, but knew that was a dream for another day.

Instead, he would have to be glad that they could share in this together, that she was as much a part of this club as any of them. She beamed up at him, eyes shining with pride and something more. Rhys wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, consequences be damned.

But he settled for a handshake, although he wrapped his fingers around her smaller hand, stroking her palm where no one could see him do so.

He could feel rather than see that people were watching them, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Victor Reeves or even Lord Montgomery, who had sabotaged them last year, were nearby.

“You were magnificent,” he murmured, still shaking her hand. “I’m so proud of you.”

“We did it together,” she whispered back, her voice thick with emotion. “All of us.”

“So we did.”

The club poured into the bathhouse, chanting their team song, and Rhys allowed himself to get caught up in the moment, forgetting the risks that awaited him – of being caught, of Emmaline not realizing her dreams, of he and Emmaline not finding a way to be together – as he opened his mouth and sang with the rest of them.

Usually, he stood to the side and watched them all, so he wasn’t surprised at the curious glances that came his way.

Emmaline seemed uncertain, but once she joined in the song, she did so with gusto, despite not knowing all the words yet.

When the song died down, they all turned to him, waiting for him to say something, and he jumped up on the table in the middle of the room, scattering some of the equipment that had been laid across it.

“Listen, lads!” he called out. “It was tough today, but you proved tonight that we are stronger than ever, especially when we play as a team. That’s what truly matters.”

They all cheered loudly before he continued.

“Only two teams stand between us and the Cup. First up – Eton!”

As the club cheered, Rhys looked around the room, his gaze finally landing on Emmaline, as it always did. Only, instead of the excitement he had expected to see upon her face, she looked as though a spirit had stepped right in front of her.

Her face was white, drained of color, her eyes wide and her hands in fists at her side.

It took everything within Rhys not to race across the room and demand that she tell him what was wrong so that he could make it all right again.

Instead, he slowly eased himself off the table and walked around the room toward her, accepting handshakes and congratulations from the other players as he went.

“Williams,” he said as he reached Emmaline. “Is everything well?”

He stared at her, willing her to share with him, but she just nodded curtly .

“Fine,” she said, her eyes flitting from one side to the other. “Perhaps we can discuss it at another time.”

“Of course,” he murmured before continuing on as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

He had questions, however. One way or another he was going to find out what had caused her such fear.

And he was going to fix it.

Eton? They were going to play Eton?

Emmaline had been swept up after the game, following her teammates into the bathhouse without a thought as to how she was going to avoid the situation. She excused herself to use the facilities, and when she returned, they were almost all fully dressed, thank goodness.

She felt rather than saw Rhys watching her, but she knew they had to be careful. They were likely being watched, and if anyone found anything suspicious, suddenly winning the next game to advance would become the least of their problems.

She kept her distance until they reached the King’s Head after the match.

She put in some time as Emmett until she left, only to round the red brick building and enter the back door, changing in the powder room where Lily had stashed clothing.

She washed her face, allowing her to return as Emmaline for the final hour or two of the night.

“Emmaline,” Rhys said, sliding into the chair beside her, a wide grin on his face as he wrapped his arm around the back of the chair. “It is so good to see you.”

She smiled impishly at him, a smile that she had to hide on the football field, as much as she wanted to send it his way. “Same to you. It has been far too long, has it not?”

“It is always too long when I’m away from you,” he said softly and her cheeks flushed. He leaned in. “Are you going to tell me what the matter is?”

She bit her lip, looking from one side to the other to make sure that no one was listening in.

“You said we would play Eton next.”

“I did,” he said. “And we will. Is there a problem with Eton?”

“Only that my brother plays for them.”

Rhys sat back in his chair as his mouth dropped open.

“Your brother?”

She nodded grimly.

“He has attended Eton for years, but this is the first year he is playing for their football team. He always said he was too busy with his studies to play seriously, but apparently, he feels he can handle it this year. They are quite good, as you know. I never considered that we might ever match up against him.”

“Does he know?” Rhys asked in a low voice, not needing to clarify to what he was referring.

“No.” She shook her head. “He discouraged me from even attempting to start a women’s club.

I can only imagine what he’d say about… other things.

He always used to support these kinds of ideas, but it seems that school has changed him, for now he’s keen to tell me what a young lady should and shouldn’t be doing.

As though he’s the expert.” She scoffed.

“I see,” Rhys said, stroking his beard. “Well, then. We will have to work extra hard to make sure that he doesn’t discover anything he shouldn’t.”

“But how?” she asked morosely. “He knows me better than anyone, save for my mother and Lily.”

He stared at her, and despite his relaxed body position, his feet stretched out before him, his gaze was intense.

“Perhaps someday I’ll make that list.”

Why did she like how that sounded so much ?

“Perhaps you shall,” she said with a quick grin, hiding how much his words affected her. “Until then, I must find a way to make it through the game undetected. Where will we play?”

“In Berkshire, I believe. We will travel by train,” he said, reaching out a hand and placing it face up on the table, inviting her to take it. “We’ll make a plan, Emmaline. We will get through this. I promise.”

“Get through what?”

Tommy turned a chair around and sat on it backwards, facing the two of them, his head swiveling from one of them to the other. “What’s wrong? You both look so serious. How’s it been, Emmaline?”

“Just fine, Tommy,” she said. “And nothing is wrong. We were discussing the club’s chances in the next game.”

“Never bet against us, Emmaline,” Tommy said, sipping his drink. “Never. We always find a way.”

“Except in the final game last year,” Emmaline reminded them, and Tommy rolled his eyes at her.

“Things are different now,” he said. “We have Emmett.”

Emmaline’s eyes widened. Did they truly think that she made a difference on the team? She knew she had talent, but she couldn’t help but wonder in the back of her mind if she slowed them down or prevented them from playing a quicker game than they did.

“Yeah. Williams helps us see the field better, moves the ball around, creates more scoring opportunities. Who knows? He might be our good luck.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling Emmaline – not that Williams is good luck, but that he has been improving us. You follow the club. Don’t you agree?” he asked her, his eyes boring into her. Emmaline opened her mouth to respond when a shadow dropped over their table.

“Well, well, who do we have here? And just where is your newest acquisition, Lockwood? ”

Rhys pushed back his chair to stand so fast that the chair fell over.

“Reeves,” he seethed. “Just what do you think you are doing here?