Chapter Eleven

"T hat's perfect, Violet. Swing like that again. You'll get a hit soon, I promise!" Anna crouched just behind the wicket, waiting for Beatrice to bowl the ball. Violet bent her knees in front of the wicket, her stance awkward and clumsy as she clutched the cricket bat.

"It didn't feel perfect," she grumbled while Beatrice nodded, indicating she was about to begin her approach. "It feels like I might pitch over."

"Take the weight off the balls of your feet," Anna instructed her. "Stand on your whole foot."

"I've never heard of anything so ridiculous," Iris remarked off to the side, where she was waiting her turn to bat. "Doesn't everyone always stand on their whole foot?"

"Ignore her," Anna said to her pupil. "Just focus on the ball. Follow it with your eyes."

"What else would she follow it with?" Iris laughed.

Beatrice's arm slumped to her side. "Excuse me? Can we please stop talking? I'm bowling!"

Anna rose from her crouch. "You shouldn't let people distract you. Real players have to be able to drown out everything but the game."

Beatrice stuck out her tongue at her sister. "But I don't want to be a real player. Iris and I want to go inside and work on a plum bread, but you forced us to be out here."

"It's too fine of a day for that," Sir John exclaimed, sharing a laugh with Mrs. Wright. "Stay outside with us. You're a fine bowler." The older couple reclined next to each other on matching chairs situated on the outskirts of the makeshift pitch, enjoying the younger people and their games. A small table was set up between them, topped with a tray of cheese and fruit as well as two glasses of red wine. Sir John's cheeks looked like they'd been painted with rouge, and Mrs. Wright was uncommonly giddy.

Anna rolled her eyes as Mrs. Wright broke into another round of hiccuping giggles. She and Sir John acted more like love-struck children as the days went on. Anna glanced at Jacob, who was the only fielder. His usual sneer of disdain wasn't readily apparent. He merely appeared mystified by the older couple's antics. Maybe even entertained.

"How much more do I have to throw?" Beatrice demanded with a distinct sulk.

Anna glowered, lowering into her spot again. She had a new appreciation for the coach of her cricket team. Samuel Everett was curmudgeonly at the best of times. Anna had always assumed it was just his nature; she'd never believed that his players could have been the reason for his recurring irritated state.

"Just a few more," Anna answered, spying a wobble in Violet's knees. The older woman's thighs must be burning. She hadn't wavered from that position once Anna had placed her in it. Her legs would certainly be sore tomorrow. "Hurry up now. I want to make sure Violet and Iris get a decent hit."

Beatrice stabbed her hands on her hips. "I'm not the one holding everyone up!"

"Just bowl the ball!" Violet yelled. "I have no idea how much longer I can stand like this, but it doesn't look good!"

"You better not faint," Iris warned. "The last time I had to carry you somewhere, my back was sore for a week."

"You're hardly as light as a dandelion flower!" Violet returned.

Anna's gaze was stuck to the woman's knees. They were trembling like a tuning fork at this point. "Bowl the ball!"

"I am!" Beatrice hollered back—but not from where she was supposed to be. The ridiculous girl had meandered over to the refreshment table and was stuffing her mouth with a piece of fat cheese.

"That's it! I'm leaving. I can't wait here anymore," Jacob yelled, swiping his arms in front of him like he was clearing the dishes off a table. "It's too much for any man to abide."

Mrs. Wright stood up from her seat, the little blanket she wore on her lap falling to the ground. "Oh, come now, Jacob. You're doing so well out there!"

Halfway off the field, he stopped, his expression incredulous. "What are you talking about, woman? We've been out here for an hour, and no one has hit the ball once." He gestured toward Beatrice, who was now tucking into the grapes. "She's only bowled three deliveries."

"It's not my fault!" Beatrice argued, her hip stuck out in indignation. "Anna's the one who keeps taking forever to teach this insufferable game."

All eyes soared back to Anna, some sympathetic and some riddled with condemnation. "I thought it would be fun!" she snapped, straightening her knees once more.

She took the bat out of Violet's hand, helping the poor woman relax out of her stance. Violet stumbled slightly, maintaining her dignity just in time. She patted Anna's arm. "It's not your fault, dear. I'm sure it's a wonderful game once you get to the hang of it."

Anna smiled weekly. "Thank you," she said. "It is."

Sir John followed Mrs. Wright's lead and crept up from his chair, his knees cracking as he placed his empty glass back on the table. The servants hurried to round up the food and blankets and take them back inside.

Anna watched as the party retreated toward the house, her ego deflating more and more with every relieved step. Perhaps she wasn't destined to become a coach or a captain. It wasn't something she'd said out loud, this idea of being more than a player one day. The thought had been at the periphery of her mind, a fleeting notion. Although she was sure that a position would be open soon enough. With Samuel Everett playing professional cricket again—and his fiancée, Myfanwy, most likely spending more time at home when a family came—the Single Ladies Cricket Club would be forced to change its current iteration. As one of the early members of the club, Anna had thought that possibly, maybe, eventually, she could take a more prominent role… a leadership role. However, with the afternoon's events, that concept seemed out of her reach.

"Oh, now it wasn't that bad."

Anna jumped, clutching her heart. She spun around to find Jacob behind her, giving her a ruefully sympathetic smile. She lowered her head. Ever since their time in the carriage, she'd found it difficult to match his stares without blushing. What on earth had come over her that night? It had been days, and she still couldn't explain it to herself. She'd never allowed herself to act so wanton before, so free. It had been liberating—and frightening.

"Not so bad?" she retorted, collecting herself. "Weren't you the man who just stormed off the field?"

"You can hardly blame me for that," he replied. "It was getting rather tedious." He stole the bat from her and took one of her hands, blowing warm air into it before placing it in his pocket. He directed her toward the house without remarking on this sweet gesture, like it was just the kind of thing that civilized people did in civilized company.

Anna knew better than to agree; nevertheless, she wouldn't be the one to break the fa?ade. Not when it continued to exhilarate her. "So, was it rather tedious or not that bad ?"

Jacob answered by reaching across and squeezing the hand that wasn't getting toasty in his pocket. "I was trying to make you feel better."

"I think you may need practice."

Jacob chuckled. Anna loved that sound, so rich and intoxicating coming from deep inside his chest. It reminded her of hearing a shock of thunder from the safety and warmth of her bed. For a second, she wished Jacob was a man that always chuckled, but then took that back. If he was one of those gregarious types, these moments of bliss wouldn't be as special, and he wouldn't be the Jacob that she was growing to… growing to admire.

"I'm sure you're familiar with the saying that you can lead a horse to water, but you can't force it to drink?"

Anna frowned. "Who is the horse? Am I the horse?"

Jacob answered her with an exasperated sigh. "Just keep trying. They'll come around. The aunts have never let anything defeat them in their lives. Cricket will be no different."

"Perhaps I'm not explaining it well enough."

"You're explaining it just fine. These things take time. You have to remember that not everyone grew up playing the sport like you did."

She tugged on his arm, forcing him to stop. "I didn't grow up playing. I didn't start until I heard about the Single Ladies Cricket Club three years ago."

A crease formed between Jacob's eyes, and he shrugged. "You told me your brother loved playing. I just assumed that you played with him."

A caustic laugh burst from Anna's throat. "David? He never let me play. I had to sit off to the side and just watch him and his friend bowl to one another like a good little girl."

Jacob's gaze fixed on her for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. Eventually, he nudged her toward the house again. "In any case, most young women don't grow up understanding the game like you did. You have to admit that it can be a bit confusing."

"Of course."

"So," he went on, squeezing her hand once more, "give it time."

Anna nodded, getting lost in the sensation of her hand in his. His fingers explored hers, always moving and circling, constantly making her body react under all her layers of clothing.

They lapsed into silence, quickly gaining ground on the others. Anna could hear the excitement in her father's voice as he discussed a card game he was eager to play that night after dinner. She reluctantly dragged her hand from Jacob's pocket, but he wouldn't release the other despite her tugging.

His head dipped low to her neck. Anna's ears had become so chilled from the cool weather that the hot breath of his words gave her a certain frisson of pain. "I want to see you tonight," he said.

She wrangled her lips into a tight smile, although her mouth wanted to widen from ear to ear. "Another outing?"

Jacob scrunched his nose. It was so unlike him, so… adorably youthful. "Afraid not. The rest of the strongwomen must be lifting their barbells and husbands somewhere on the Continent."

"Then what do you suggest?"

For the first time, Jacob appeared moderately disconcerted, unsure of himself, unsteady . He shifted his weight between his legs. If he played on Anna's team, she would have told him to stand equally on both of his feet.

Jacob gazed down at his boots. "Maybe," he drawled, "you could come to my room tonight? We could talk."

Was he asking what she thought he was asking?

"Talk?"

Jacob pulled back his shoulders, puffing out his chest, a Roman legionary offended that his honor was being questioned. "Of course talk."

Anna angled her head. "Talk?"

He deflated and rubbed the back of his neck. "I would be open to other things… if you were agreeable."

This was the oddest proposal of a tryst Anna had ever encountered. And the politest. Although, to be fair, she hadn't had many.

A mischievous thought occurred to her—to lengthen out the process, make the man squirm until he received her answer. He was the blackguard who'd walked off the pitch today, after all. Unfortunately, Anna didn't have the time. The party was almost indoors, and she would have to decamp to her room to dress for dinner.

Her lips fought with her, again wanting to fan out into an impossibly large grin. If she had told herself a week ago that she would enjoy spending time with Jacob Wright, she wouldn't have believed it. But this viscount continued to surprise her.

Anna snuck a peek at the rest of the group, judging whether they were paying any attention to her, but they were busy speaking in animated tones with the butler, who'd just come out to meet them.

She placed her hand on Jacob's chest. Over his coat, she couldn't feel his heartbeat, though she let herself imagine that its tempo had increased from her touch. "I think that can be arranged—"

"It's David! Anna, come quick! It's David!"

She jerked her hand off Jacob like she'd been stung. She turned to see Beatrice running toward her, skirts picked up in her hurry. She threw her arms around Anna, knocking Jacob further out of their circle. "It's David! He's here. He's home! The butler just told us. And he's not alone."

Anna was stunned. Her brother was early, which was terrific news. But he wasn't alone…

"Who did he come with?" she whispered. Her heart felt like it had tripled in weight and was now pumping from the confines of her lower belly. "Is it him?"

Beatrice backed away, clutching Anna's cheeks in her palms. "Yes," she squealed. "It's him. It's Phillip. He's returned!"

She released Anna as quickly as she had tackled her, kissing her cheek before running back to the house. Anna stood in her wake, her knees locked, her mind reeling. This reassured her that this news wasn't entirely a surprise. She'd always assumed that Phillip would come back with David one day. They were boyhood friends, after all, more brothers than anything. And yet… and yet now that the moment had arrived, Anna was not as prepared as she'd thought.

Jacob cleared his throat. Anna lifted her gaze to find him shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I—"

"We—"

Their words clashed.

Anna tore off her bonnet, raking a hand through her curls. She wanted to tear at them until she could feel something again besides bewildered surprise. And fear.

"We should go inside," Jacob said. His somber tone was a far cry from what it had been minutes before. As was his chivalry. With his head bowed, he took long strides back to the house, leaving Anna behind.

Her hands were cold.