Chapter 5

Bridget sighed as she skimmed through the pages of the book in front of her. Three days had gone by with her hiding away in the library, doing her best to steer clear of the Duke.

She'd made sure to be out of his presence since the first dinner they had, yet somehow his aggravating face flashed in her mind at random times. She chose to believe it was because she still felt the need to talk some sense into him.

His words remained infuriating, yet her mind knew the best thing was to stay away. It would look bad on the family to pick another fight with him. Most of all, her father would never let her live it down.

It was surprising he hadn't, in fact, pulled her aside to give her a proper mouth-lashing after the saga. In fact, he'd seemed to be smiling for a short moment during her argument with the Duke, or perhaps her mind had been playing tricks on her.

Thankfully, the library provided a haven for her to immerse herself enough to not think of answers to her various questions. The shelves were lined with books that whispered stories of distant lands and forgotten romances.

Just as she settled into a cozy nook, Hector burst into the library, his mischievous grin lighting up the hall.

"Ah, there you are, hiding away like a mouse in a cheese cellar!" he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Dear sister, color me genius, for I have the perfect idea to fix your awful relationship with the Dukeas well as bring us all closer!"

Bridget sighed, already anticipating the trouble that usually accompanied his ideas. "What harebrained scheme have you cooked up this time, dear brother?"

Hector feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "Harebrained? I am wounded by your lack of faith in my brilliant plans, Sister mine."

Rolling her eyes, Bridget couldn't help but smile at his theatrics. "Oh, spare me, Hector. You know very well that your plans often lead us into more trouble than we can handle."

Leaning against a nearby bookshelf, he adopted a thoughtful expression. "But hear me out, Bridget. This time, it's foolproof, I promise!"

She crossed her arms, her skepticism evident. "Foolproof, you say? I'm not so sure. Remember the last time you promised a foolproof plan? We ended up hiding in a hedge for hours!"

Hector chuckled, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Ah, but that was an adventure, wasn't it? And it did lead to that rather exciting encounter with the Duchess's poodle…"

Bridget couldn't help but laugh at the memory. "All right. I'll entertain your idea, but only if you promise that this time we won't end up in a hedge or chased by any more poodles."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Always so quick with your witty remarks. Now hush."

After a pause for dramatic effect, he grinned. "I believe we all should play a game."

Bridget squinted at him suspiciously. "A game, you say? What sort of game are you conjuring up in that mischievous mind of yours?"

He let out a loud laugh. "Why, a game wherein a small, round ball is struck with a mallet through a high arch of iron, and whoever ends up with the fewest blows, or at the number agreed on, wins."

Bridget raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Pall Mall?"

"Why not? It's easy, and it's a nice opportunity to bond. We could split into teams, as is the common Fadden way. That would really get everyone communicating for sure."

"Well, it does sound rather harmless." She cracked a smile as she went on, "I suppose I can indulge your whimsical idea, Brother."

Hector beamed with satisfaction. "Ah, I knew you'd agree! You see, the elder brother always knows best."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, spare me your wisdom."

A bit later, they all gathered in the garden with the exception of their parents, who had chosen to leave the youth to the game. Bridget found this fortunate, as she could fully immerse herself in the game without her father's judgmental eyes.

As she approached the Duke and Olivia, she gave the latter a warm smile. "It has been a while since we last crossed paths. I trust you've managed to keep yourself entertained around the house?"

Olivia returned the smile, her eyes twinkling with delight. "Indeed, Lady Bridget. The house has been welcoming, thank you."

With reluctance, Bridget then turned her attention to the stoic Duke. She nodded politely, acknowledging his presence.

"Your Grace," she greeted with a hint of formality.

Abel returned the gesture, his tone equally formal. "Lady Bridget."

The atmosphere instantly filled with awkwardness and slight tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

At last, Hector cleared his throat and cut through with a lighthearted remark. "Well, let's not let any stiffness dampen our spirits. We're all here! Shall we begin then?"

With his jovial interruption, the tension dissipated, quickly replaced by a renewed sense of enthusiasm. The group exchanged smiles, nods, and murmurs of agreement.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he gathered their attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is time to form our teams!" he declared, his voice carrying through the garden.

"For this joint game, I hereby appoint myself as the referee." A playful smirk danced on his lips as he continued, "And, of course, it seems only fitting to unite our famed lovebirds in one team."

As Olivia and Elliot exchanged adoring smiles, Bridget couldn't help but share in their joy, her smile lifting her spirits. However, her happiness was short-lived as a realization quickly set in.

To her dismay, Hector's next announcement confirmed what she had feared. "And for our second team, we have Lady Bridget and, of course, you, Your Grace."

Bridget knew her brother's plan was to mend the relationship between her and the Duke, but she wasn't interested in getting that friendly just yet.

Horror flashed across her face as she spoke up, her voice tinged with desperation, "Perhaps I could be the referee instead or… or… switch teams."

Abel scoffed, his tone dripping with arrogance. "Do you doubt my abilities, Lady Bridget? Do you think me incapable of playing the game correctly?" His words were laced with defiance, challenging her to question his skills.

"I believe I never made such a statement, Your Grace. It seems you are fabricating statements in my name." Bridget's eyes blazed as she turned to face him.

"Perhaps the truth is that you're the one who believes your playing skills to be lacking. And in that case, who am I to put pressure on you?"

"You dare challenge my abilities?" His eyes were slits, his voice filled with defiance. "I assure you, I am more than capable of excelling in this game."

As the game commenced, the disgruntled pair did not miss an opportunity to bicker and taunt each other. Their comments were sharp, their words dripping with sarcasm and disdain.

"Lady Bridget, your stance is as graceful as a swan with a limp. I fear your technique may be lacking," the Duke remarked with a smirk.

Bridget shot back, her voice laced with irritation, "Your Grace, I may lack your… finesse, but at least I don't rely on empty bravado to compensate for my shortcomings."

As the Duke swung his mallet hust to fail again, Hector, ever the instigator, interjected with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Oof, it seems Bridget struck a right nerve. Or perhaps her observations hold some truth?"

Still annoyed at him for placing her in her current predicament, Bridget snapped, "Brother, do us all a favor and hold your tongue. Your meddling only adds fuel to this unnecessary fire."

Abel, taken aback by her outburst, scoffed in disbelief, "You would speak to your elder brother in such a manner? Have you no respect?"

"Oh, forgive me." Her smile turned saccharine, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Would you prefer if I directed my… yelling at you instead?"

She made sure to raise her voice at the last part of her question, letting out a loud yell that nearly echoed through the garden.

Abel's jaw dropped in shock. Flustered and speechless, he looked around for support, hoping to find someone who shared his disbelief.

Unfortunately for him, only Hector's stifled chuckles filled the air, while Elliot and Olivia, after a few glances, remained blissfully focused on each other.

Bridget, nonchalant and composed, stuck her nose in the air, dismissing his disapproval and returning her attention to the game, leaving him fuming in her wake.

"You… You…" he began sputtering. No man had ever dared raise his voice at him, much less a woman. "You truly are mannerless and unladylike! Unbefitting of your title!"

But Bridget retorted immediately, her voice sharp and commanding, "Save your critiques for your own stance in this game, Your Grace. It could use some correction."

He growled in frustration, the tension between them reaching its peak. "Is that so? Well, I shall show you how it is done right this second."

"No, you shall not. I believe it is my turn to strike." Bridget hurried to stand in position in his stead.

In a fit of anger, they both swung their mallets with great force, accidentally sending the ball flying into the nearby bushes.

"Now look what you've done! You've ruined the game!"

"Me? It was clearly your fault! You're the one who can't control her temper!" Abel's eyes were filled with accusation as he pointed at her.

They exchange glares, scoffing and huffing in disbelief, each refusing to take responsibility for the mishap.

"Honestly, I can't fathom how you've managed to survive this long with such an inflated ego. Your arrogance knows no bounds!" Bridget gritted her teeth as he tossed his mallet to the ground in annoyance.

"And I can't fathom how you've managed to be so insufferable, Lady Bridget!" The Duke's face flushed with indignation.

"Insufferable? Coming from a man who thinks the world revolves around him! Coming from a man who continuously refuses to take accountability!"

"At least I have the grace and manners to carry myself like a gentleman," Abel shot back.

"Gentleman? Ha!" Bridget scoffed. "I must say, you're more akin to a pompous peacock, Your Grace."

The Duke raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with condescension. "Yet again, Lady Bridget, your audacity to challenge me is truly remarkable."

They stood face to face, their gazes locked in a battle of wills as Bridget pressed on, "I refuse to be silenced by a man who believes himself superior simply because of his title."

"And this is something I said? Or could this be your presumed notions you jotted down in private journals, screaming your obsession with me?"

As the two continued their heated exchange, the rest of the group stood aside in shock and an increasing weariness. At last, Hector, unable to bear the noise any longer, found his voice.

"Enough!" he exclaimed, his tone filled with exasperation. "See here, I think I speak for the rest of this group when I say that we're all tired."

He continued as all eyes turned to him. "How about this? You two go retrieve the ball, and the rest of us will be waiting for you inside."

Bridget and Abel could sense the desperation in the air as Olivia and Elliot agreed. It was a clear indication that they all wanted them gone.

Bridget grumbled in defeat, her annoyance evident. "Fine, I shall retrieve the ball myself."

Abel's head swiveled to her, his voice filled with challenge. "Are you insinuating that I would be an obstruction if we were to go retrieve the ball together, as advised?"

But before Bridget could retort, Hector interrupted, his voice firm and commanding. "Enough, please! Just go and fetch the ball." He cleared his throat slightly and nodded to Abel, adding, "Your Grace."

The pair exchanged glances, their unspoken agreement hanging in the air.

"Fine," they chorused.