Page 31

T he Carter Debut Surprise: A Triumph for the New Duchess.

Alethea had read the headlines, scanning the newspapers for anything that might have to do with the events of the ball she had hosted. Next to her was Oliver, at the breakfast table. He had not said much to her that morning, but he was scanning the headlines with the same curiosity as her.

"It seems like we pulled it off then," Alethea commented, smiling as she gestured at the papers in his hands.

"You did," he replied instantly. "I had little role but to stand there in support."

"Well, that is what you say," she grinned, taking the paper from his hands and folding it to a specific section, "But look here, they are also talking about you here."

Oliver raised an eyebrow and then scanned the section that his wife seemed to be referring to. His expression changed.

"Besotted with the duchess," he read out loud what had been written about him. "Well, I suppose that is better than the alternate."

"Is it true, you think?" she asked, hesitantly. In earnest, she was only trying to gauge what he truly felt inside.

"If the papers say it, then it must be," he smirked in response.

Alethea bit down on her lip, looking down at the table in front of her.

He is flirting with you again, she thought to herself. The two girls had not yet shown up for breakfast, and neither had Theodore.

In fact, she had not seen Theodore since the ball. He had been locked away in his chambers for most of the day, or outside the estate.

"I have decided to arrange for a small picnic today," she announced.

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"We have been so busy with the ball, I feel we haven't spent time with your family in a convivial way," she said. "Why not host a little picnic at Lockhart Park? Just a family affair, the weather is fine, and it would do everyone good to relax."

"A family picnic?" Oliver had eyed her over the top of the newspaper.

"Yes. We could invite my sisters and yours. Maybe play some outdoor games. Pall-mall, perhaps?" She tried to sound casual, though her heart kicked anxiously.

"It's true we haven't had an outing with the young ones in some time," He lowered the paper fully, considering. "Clara would love that. Eleanor, too."

They were at the ball too, allowed to watch from an upstairs gallery for a while before bedtime.

"I thought to include my sisters as well. And…perhaps Theodore, if he's free to join."

At that Oliver's face grew guarded. He folded the newspaper precisely and set it aside.

"I imagine he could be persuaded to attend if I request it."

"And Joyce?" Alethea asked gently, trying to keep her tone neutral.

"Joyce may join if she likes," he said after a pause. "It is your home as well, Alethea, and your family is always welcome."

The answer was noncommittal, but it wasn't a refusal. Alethea smiled, deciding not to push further just then.

"Wonderful. I'll send notes to everyone straightaway and speak with the cook about preparing baskets."

The arrangements were made rather quickly. At the final hour, only Daphne and Joyce accepted the invitation to attend. Felicity was busy with some event.

Alethea greeted her sisters while Oliver appeared relaxed in shirtsleeves and an open waistcoat, having shed his coat. He had been coaxed by Clara into helping fly a small kite for a while, and the sight of the tall Duke running across the grass trailing a kite had brought laughter to everyone.

Now, he returned to the blankets, breathing a little hard but smiling.

"I'd forgotten how much energy a child's game demands," he chuckled.

Alethea handed him a glass of lemonade, which he accepted gratefully.

"You did brilliantly. Clara is over the moon." The little girl was presently running to show her elder sister Eleanor how high the kite had gone.

Oliver took a long sip and regarded the scene.

Nearby, Daphne was unpacking more food from baskets with the help of their maids.

Their husbands lounged under a tree, discussing some recent Parliamentary debate.

Joyce sat on a blanket with Daphne's baby.

And not far off, Theodore stood by a makeshift pall-mall court that the servants had just finished setting up.

Or more specifically, as he watched Joyce singing to the baby.

Alethea followed Theodore's gaze and saw the soft yearning on his face. It made her heart ache. Joyce, sensing the attention, glanced up and met his eyes. Though she quickly dropped her gaze back to the baby, a rosy flush tinged her cheeks.

Alethea leaned subtly into Oliver.

"Don't they look pitiable, the pair of them?" she whispered.

Oliver had seen the exchange as well, and his expression hardened.

"They brought that on themselves," he murmured back.

Alethea bit her tongue. This was precisely the tension she hoped to ease today.

So far, Oliver and Theodore had kept a distance, exchanging only a terse greeting at the start.

She had to find a way to bring them together more naturally.

Perhaps a bit of competitive fun would do.

Oliver and Theodore had often been a team in childhood games, so perhaps this the best way to ease the tension.

"Shall we have a game of pall-mall?" Alethea suggested brightly, raising her voice enough for the group to hear. She stood and dusted off her skirt. "The course is ready and it looks terribly inviting."

The children cheered at once, even though they were too young to play properly, they simply liked any excitement.

"Oh no, not I. I haven't swung a mallet in years. I'll watch, thank you," Ambrose said.

Daphne, however, popped up eagerly. "I'll play a round or two. I warn you all, I was quite the terror in my day."

"Excellent," Alethea grinned. "We have mallets enough for five or six, I believe."

"Theodore?" Alethea called over. "Will you join us?"

Theodore seemed a bit surprised to be directly invited by her, but he managed a smile. "Certainly, if you wish."

"And you, Oliver?"

He peered up at her, trying to gauge her intent. She simply smiled serenely. After a moment, he nodded and got to his feet. "Of course."

Joyce remained seated on the blanket, but Alethea noticed how her eyes followed Theodore as he moved to the pall-mall course. Alethea quickly bent down to her.

"You're not going to play, Joyce?"

"Oh, no. I've never much cared for hitting balls with sticks. I'll stay with the baby," her sister gave a tight little laugh.

Alethea suspected Joyce was avoiding playing because Theodore was involved, but she decided not to push her. Perhaps it was enough for now that they were within view of each other. Joyce could enjoy watching him, at least.

Clara and Eleanor trailed the group of adults to the starting point of the pall-mall field.

The footmen had set up small arches at intervals, and placed the colored wooden balls at the head of the course.

A basket of mallets in varying sizes awaited.

Alethea picked one that felt manageable, she had never played, but she had observed others and grasped the basics.

Oliver selected a mallet, as did Theodore and Daphne. That made four players.

Little Clara hopped up and down. "I want to play too!" she piped.

Theodore chuckled and fetched the smallest mallet for her. "All right, scamp. You can be on my team, how about that?"

Clara beamed, and Alethea exchanged a quick pleased glance with Oliver. At least Theodore sounded cheerful for the moment.

"If Clara's playing, I should like to also!" Eleanor insisted, not to be outdone by her younger sister.

Daphne offered her own mallet to the nine-year-old with a gracious flourish.

"Here you are, Lady Eleanor. I think I shall sit this one out and cheer you all from the sidelines.

" It seemed Daphne had an inkling that giving the children the spotlight might further smooth any awkwardness.

She winked at Alethea as she stepped aside.

"Give them a good battle," she said with a grin.

And so teams were informally arranged: Theodore and Clara against Oliver and Eleanor against Alethea (who played solo but didn't mind).

The first order of business was to hit the balls through the starting hoop and down the field.

Clara, being youngest, was allowed to go first. She smacked her crimson ball rather haphazardly; it rolled only a short distance, not even reaching the first wicket.

But Clara clapped as if she'd done marvelously.

Eleanor went next, with Oliver's coaching.

Her blue ball went further, about halfway to the wicket.

Theodore, sharing a mallet with Clara, took his turn and sent their red ball cleanly through the first arch.

He bowed theatrically to his little sister.

"That's how it's done." Clara giggled and gave him an exaggerated curtsy in return.

Alethea was last. She took a calming breath, steadied her pale green ball, and swung. To her astonishment, she struck and the ball sailed straight through not only the first wicket but continued on, coming to rest close to the second.

Beginner's luck, surely. Alethea blinked in surprise as Daphne burst into cheers and applause.

"Brava, Alethea!" Daphne called, laughing. "Show them how a Carter competes!"

"Oh dear," Oliver said in a mock whisper, loud enough for all to hear. "It appears my duchess neglected to tell us she's a natural at this game."

"Pure luck, I assure you. I haven't the faintest idea what I'm doing," she shrugged modestly.

"Don't let her fool you," Daphne interjected teasingly from the sidelines. "I suspect she is not short of talent when it comes to anything."

"Well, if you truly wish to beat me," Alethea said, looking over to Theodore. "Perhaps your best bet would be to form an alliance."

"I quite agree, brother. Truce?" Theodore caught on immediately and grinned.

"Truce." Oliver extended his hand and Theodore shook it solemnly.