Page 14

Chapter Fourteen

L ily was in trouble.

She knew that by the fact that even Emmaline noticed that her mind wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

“I’m not sure what is so intriguing outside that window, but are you going to return to the present anytime soon?” Emmaline asked, causing Lily to finally look her way.

As beautiful as the scenery rushing by the window was, she truthfully couldn’t have said what she was looking at.

It was the memory of her evening spent with Colin that remained at the forefront of her mind.

She had never met a man like him.

But perhaps that was because most of the men she had met were all near to the same – doing as they were told, acting as was expected of them, pretending to be the perfect gentlemen while doing as they wished when they thought no one was looking.

Colin might not have been born into the same society she was, but from what she had seen, he exemplified more gentlemanly qualities than any who held the actual title.

He was kind. He looked out for those who were part of his circle.

As much as she liked to claim herself to be independent, she actually liked the thought of someone protecting her.

Colin certainly did all that and more.

Today, he was so close yet so far – on the same train as her, but in a completely different car, one nearly inaccessible to her.

It was a true metaphor to their places in life.

“I am only thinking of the football club,” she said now to Emmaline, which was not altogether a lie. “How do you think they will fare today?”

That provided Emmaline enough distraction to launch herself into her favorite subject. Lily listened, her ears perking up at the mention of Colin’s name. Emmaline thought him to be a key component of their team, vital to their success this season.

Lily would be sure to watch him closely.

It was just shy of a two-hour train ride to Nottingham, where carriages met the team and its spectators for a short ten-minute drive to The County Ground, home of the Notts County team.

Lily caught glimpses of the River Trent through the window until the pitch came into view.

It was as simple as those in Manchester, the ground surrounded by wooden stands and open terraces.

It was already filled with people, and Lily’s heart started beating hard at the thought of the game to come.

“We’ll be in the stands today,” Lily’s father said from across the carriage, and Lily didn’t miss Emmaline’s glee, although she kept it subdued due to the presence of Lily’s parents.

Lily’s mother heaved a sigh, but Lily was thrilled.

It was hard to truly appreciate the game's pace when sitting in a carriage at one end.

“I do not want to be among that crowd,” her mother said, pointing to the filling stands, and her father shook his head.

“We will not be among them.” Lily hated how he said them as though they were not even people.

“Notts County has a private area, under the covered stands. It is not only comfortable but also has the best views of the field. There will be other ladies and gentlemen as well. Most will be on the side of Notts County, of course, but it will be respectable. There are even supporters from other clubs here to watch the game to see what they will face in the coming matches.”

“Who will be in attendance?” Lily asked, a feeling of dread rising in her as she already knew, without her father saying, just who he would name.

“Well, Lord Montgomery and his family, for one.”

Her mother seemed satisfied with that, although Lily and Emmaline exchanged a look of distaste. They would have to be sure to stay a reasonable distance away.

“Not to worry, Lily,” her father said, accurately reading her expression. “All will be well.”

She doubted that, but she would focus on the game.

And on one player in particular. But that would have to stay her secret, for to put it into words was only inviting disappointment.

Even Emmaline likely wouldn’t understand it.

The truth was, she was beginning to fall for Colin Thornton – even though she knew better.

While many of his teammates were busy firing themselves up for the match, Colin was doing quite the opposite.

He found he performed better in a significant match when he sat and calmed his mind, allowing his body to prepare for the game. Otherwise, he became overzealous and lacked proper control.

As he and Tommy kicked the ball back and forth before the match began, the rest of his team focused on Notts County, sizing up their players.

His gaze, however, kept floating toward the stands, especially the covered area, which, judging from the dress of the gentlemen and the few women who stood among them, was private.

He wondered if Lily was there.

Colin was so focused on looking for her that the ball smacked him right in the side of the face.

“Hey!” he called out to Tommy. “What was that for?”

“Just trying to get your attention,” Tommy responded. “Nothing else seemed to be working. Are you going to play this game or stand there picking daisies?”

Colin booted the ball back at him as hard as he could, but Tommy managed to capture control of it.

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Tommy laughed, and Colin rolled his eyes.

“I’m saving it for the pitch,” he retorted. “Let’s go.”

They lined up against Notts County, the wind biting through the wool of their uniforms as fallen leaves whipped by them. No rain had yet fallen, but heavy clouds loomed overhead, mirroring the restless tension of the players and the gathering crowd, their murmurs sweeping onto the pitch.

Colin forgot everything weighing on him as soon as the game was underway. His responsibilities to the mill, to his family, the niggling feeling that something was wrong with the club, and the pull toward Lily that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

Instead, he put all of his heart into the game, not letting any Notts County player run by him, the ball moving around his feet like it was meant to be there.

The entire team moved in rhythm, and when the first drops of rain began to fall, Colin welcomed them, for they cooled the heat of his body that came from his exertion and the exhilaration of the game.

They were tied as the game's last minutes approached, and when Rhys took the ball in the corner, he lifted his pinkie finger in the air without even looking at Colin.

Colin understood. They had practiced this play time and again.

Rhys kicked it high into the air, sending the ball sailing over the other players – only for Colin to meet it with his forehead, directing it right through the goalposts.

His hands shot above his head as a small cheer broke out from the fans who had made the journey from Manchester while the team mobbed around him as the time stopped and the whistle blew.

They had won the first round of the FA Cup.

It could only get better from here.

Lily tried to keep her excitement from spilling over, but it wasn't easy when Emmaline jumped up and down beside her, clapping excitedly.

Lily was also secretly elated that Colin had scored the final goal, but she couldn’t make it obvious how much she cared.

Fortunately, no one else seemed to be paying much attention, for all those around her were either as happy as she was or bitterly disappointed as they rushed out of the stands and into the rain that was beginning to fall more steadily.

“I think,” her father said once the cheering died, “that you ladies might be our good luck charm.”

Her mother snorted at that, but Lily beamed. She would like to think she was lucky for one man in particular.

Did he know, or care, that she was here today? That she was watching him from the stands, able to see his performance so much more closely than when she was in the carriage?

She had tracked his every movement, especially once the rain had begun and his shirt and pants fitted to his muscled body like a second skin. It was hard to believe he was truly human, so finely molded he was.

His hair was longer than she had realized before the rain weighed down the slight curl. When he pushed it off his face, she wished she could be the one running her fingers through those silky strands.

She was filled with a heady longing that was becoming more impossible to ignore.

Emmaline shocked her out of her reveries when she crushed her in an embrace. “I told you there was nothing better than football!”

She was right, although Emmaline’s reasons for enjoying the sport slightly differed from hers.

“Where do we go now?” she asked her father when the well-wishers stopped shaking his hand for a moment.

“We will have dinner and then return to Manchester on the train,” he said. “We’ll go to The George Hotel to dine.”

“Will the players be there as well?” Lily’s mother asked, wrinkling her nose. Lily’s breath caught as she waited for her father’s answer, although she would prefer a different one than her mother.

“They will,” Lord Harcourt said, “but we will eat separately. The George Hotel has private rooms.”

“Very good,” her mother said as Lily’s father led them down from the stands, lifting the umbrella to hide under as they raced to the waiting carriages.

Lily tried to catch a glimpse of the players, but they were all filing off the field, likely to one of the dressing areas to change before their meal and the train ride home.

Soon enough, they were walking through The George Hotel's front entrance, and she only received a quick glimpse of the warm, comfortable main dining area before they were led into a private dining room off the public area.

A gleaming mahogany table sat beneath a crystal chandelier, its candlelight reflecting off gilded mirrors.

Velvet drapes muffled the sounds of the bustling inn beyond, creating an air of elegance interrupted only by the soft clink of silverware on fine china.

Lily stopped in the doorway when she noted double the number of needed chairs grouped around the table.

“Are we dining alone?” she asked.