Chapter Twenty-Three

T he rose wasn't a distraction. However, it was distracting.

On the morning of the cricket clinic, Anna woke to find the plump crimson flower sitting on her side table. No letter. No card. No vase. Just the rose waiting for her to notice it.

It lay on top of the newspaper that had arrived the day before, which had run yet another article from the Viscount Newton about the club's clinic, encouraging the girls of London to come out. Jacob hadn't stopped with one write-up; he'd surprised Anna with two.

In the week of planning, he hadn't mentioned anything about the second article. He'd come to Anna's room every night, but his lips had been too busy for words. Lust and passion left very little time for conversation, Anna realized. And yet she felt like she was beginning to understand—and covet—Jacob more with each passing hour.

That was the distraction.

Anna dressed carefully, wanting to provide just the right message to girls, eventually choosing a plain white gown with little lace and fuss and short, capped sleeves. She wanted to convey movement and agility. It was important for the girls to learn that women's garments could be for more than catching a man. Women needed to be able to catch balls in the air as well.

Anna planned to meet her teammates at the field early in order to set up and make sure they had everything they needed. She didn't have time to dawdle. She bounded down the stairs, hoping to have a quick meeting with Beatrice and the aunts before she left, making sure the food was set to be delivered.

But just as she was taking her last step, David and Phillip entered the foyer, with matching expressions that said she would not be doing anything until she dealt with them first.

Anna paused and caught herself before flying face-first onto the hardwood. She hurried to straighten and calm the ire simmering inside her. Phillip had been like a ghost ever since she moved back into the house—not because he'd been hiding, but because Anna looked right through him. Since their conversation in the library, she'd had no interest in speaking or hearing whatever mundane story he had to tell. Now when she thought of the library, she only thought of one thing… Nirvana.

Nevertheless, Anna couldn't ignore her brother. She'd barely muttered a few words to him since her return. Because he spent most of his time with Phillip, he'd been caught in the crossfire, and their relationship had suffered.

"Oh, good," David said, cautiously. "I was afraid that we missed you. I—we—wanted to ask if we could join you today. I'd love to see how it all turns out. Besides, maybe I—we—could help. You know how much we love cricket, and our knowledge is expansive."

"Yes," Phillip added, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder. Anna backed out of his grasp instantly, though he didn't bat an eye. "And it might be good to have family there, you know, in case you don't get the turnout you're hoping for. I'm not saying you won't, only…" He let his words trail off, tapping his white teeth together. "Girls and cricket… It's a bit of a hard sell, despite your charitable intentions. Besides, Beatrice is going to be there, no?"

Anna's smile was brittle. "But you're not family, Phillip. Anyway, my teammates will be there."

Phillip grimaced as if she'd slapped him. Catching on to the awkward encounter, David forced a laugh. "Oh, come now, Anna. Play fair. He's like family. More than your teammates."

Anna didn't want to argue with her brother, not when she had places to be, and he was oblivious of her history with his oldest mate. But Phillip was not family, no matter how long he'd known her. In her experience, family didn't cut and run. Her teammates had shown her more grace and patience than he ever had. The members of her cricket club had only ever looked out for her best interests. Phillip would never be able to say the same. They loved her. Maybe they didn't shower her with bouquets of flowers or write her terrible poetry, but their presence was enough. Their love and protection were felt in the smaller gestures. The older she became, the more Anna realized that love was all the little things.

And she would not forsake them now. Bringing Phillip and David would overshadow the club. Her brother wouldn't mean to, but he would take center stage, maybe even take over the whole thing, because that was what men like him were born to do. Standing on the sidelines listening to the women dictate the clinic would never work for them.

"I'm sorry, David, but everything has already been decided," Anna said genuinely. She turned a dead stare to Phillip, who still appeared confused by her behavior. "I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself."

He put his hands on his hips. "Now, I don't think you realize how difficult—"

"Oh, Anna! I've been looking everywhere for you." Beatrice rushed into the room. Wearing a royal-blue cloak and wide straw bonnet, she assumed the air of a general ready for battle. "Why aren't you ready? We're waiting for you."

Caught off guard by her sister's entrance, Anna didn't notice the butler on her heels. "The carriages are packed, miss. Lord Newton organized it all this morning," he said. "Everything has been taken care of."

Anna shook her head. Jacob? Was what he up to? "What do you mean, carriages ? I only need one. What has been taken care of?"

"Everything," he replied.

"Everything," Beatrice repeated with a firm nod. "Iris and I couldn't decide on what to bake, so we just did everything. I even made a cake! It's delicious. Lemon poppyseed. I can't wait to see what everyone thinks!" She clapped her hands and then went into great detail with her list, ticking them off on her fingers. "Let's see, there's the blueberry scones, and rosemary biscuits—oh, and the date bars. Then the butter biscuits and sugar biscuits and—"

Anna threw up her hands. "Wait, wait. All that? I'm thankful, you know I am. but I don't think we're going to need all that—"

"Of course we will," Beatrice cut in with a confused laugh. "Jacob said so."

"How would Jacob know?"

Beatrice answered with an exasperated shrug and grabbed hold of Anna's arm. "I have no idea, and it doesn't matter. We need to go now so we can set up. Iris and Violet are already in the carriage. We have to hurry. A package of flowers came this morning, and we want to decorate the refreshment tables with them. We brought so many vases! It will be gorgeous!"

"Roses?" Anna squeaked.

"Yes. Roses! Did you see them?"

Anna shook her head as Beatrice continued to tug her away from the men and to the door. Words were too difficult to get past the lump in her throat.

Love was all the little things.

*

Samuel Everett stared in acute bewilderment at the refreshment table—nay, tables. After Beatrice, Iris, and Violet were done primping and prodding, there were four in total. "What the holy hell?" he rasped, sliding the back of his hand along the stubble of his chin in a dazed fashion. "Is this a cricket clinic or damned summer picnic?"

Anna cocked her head at the extravagant display. The man had a point. The ladies had gone a bit overboard, though she wouldn't tell them that. Their generosity was incredibly lovely. Workers from Samuel's tavern had carried out the tables, and Beatrice and Iris had spent two painstaking hours decorating them to perfection. Roses were expertly placed throughout in various styles of vases, while the desserts were displayed on trays over crisp white linen that the queen would have admired. It was a work of art. Tasted like it, too, according to Aunt Violet, who made sure to sample each treat to make sure they had "held up" for the day.

"Well, this is a social event," Anna said, casting a nervous eye to the field. "And we wanted to make sure everyone had enough to eat."

" Humph, " Samuel returned, following her gaze. "Maybe you could have used another table."

Indeed.

Butterflies had bombarded Anna's stomach the moment she climbed into the carriage to leave the house, but they went positively berserk as the minutes before the event crept by. When one little girl eventually walked onto the field holding her father's hand, Anna almost wept with joy—and relief. But then another came. And another. And soon the field was so full of children that Anna had a difficult time finding her teammates in the confusion.

Now, she was so far past relieved, she was afraid she might be sick. How in the world was she going to wrangle all of those children into anything resembling order?

Samuel glanced down at his pocket watch. "I'd say it's about time to start," he said. Was Anna dreaming, or did she hear a distinct note of amusement in his voice?

Panic swelled. "What should we do?"

"We?"

"Yes, we! You're going to help me, aren't you? Look at all of this!" Anna flung her arms helplessly toward the throng. "I can't do it by myself."

Samuel turned to her, his one milky eye grabbing her attention. There was a time when she'd been terrified of Samuel Everett. His coaching style was intimidating at best. But the man was more bark than bite, and she would forever owe him for believing in the club… believing in her.

"There's no we here," he said. "I've got my hands full. Where do you think all these fathers are going to go once they drop their daughters off? To my tavern, that's where. So I'm going to be busy pulling pints behind the bar while also attempting to keep my fiancée safe by my side, where she belongs instead of running after you all. You're on your own, kid."

He offered Anna a pat on the shoulder before turning away. Just past him, she could see Myfanwy waiting for him near the tavern entrance. Her arms were crossed, and even from this distance, it was obvious that she was annoyed she couldn't take part in the afternoon. But Anna knew Myfanwy. She had a feeling her captain would sneak out to make an appearance at some point. Cricket was Myfanwy's life, after all. Marrying Samuel and bearing his children wouldn't change that.

Anna was about to call out to Samuel, beg him to stay one more time, when Ruthie ran up to her side. "Are you ready? I think everyone's getting a little restless."

Anna hesitated. Nothing in her body seemed to want to work. Fear had rendered her lifeless.

"What's going on? Why are we all just standing here?" The sharp question made Anna jump. Lady Everly stood in front of her, eyes narrowed. The widow was the oldest member of the club and even more outspoken than Myfanwy. Anna didn't know her well. Though Lady Everly was open with her opinions, she rarely spoke about herself and wasn't one for polite chitchat. But as a person who had suffered through tragedy, Anna recognized the sadness in Lady Everly and had given her space to open up when she was ready.

"I… I… I'm not sure," Anna stammered. Noticing she was wringing her fingers, she hid them behind her back.

"But you have a plan?" Lady Everly asked pointedly. "You discussed it in the letters you sent. Let's line them up and begin."

Anna's heart was pounding out of her chest. "Yes… a plan. I have a plan… and we should line them up. Yes."

Had she morphed into an exotic bird and resorted to parroting others? What was the matter with her? Maybe this day was too big for her after all. What if she wasn't strong enough to be a captain and a leader? It wouldn't be the end of the world. Some people were leaders; some people were followers. Teams needed both. Everyone had a role to play for the game to work.

She wasn't a complete failure. After all, she had orchestrated this entire event. When it was all said and done, Anna could take pride in that.

Feelings of hopelessness began to fall on her shoulders, weighing her down further. "Lady Everly, maybe you should take charge—"

Anna's words cut off. She had been ready to tell Lady Everly that she should be the one to command the clinic when a carriage stopped along the street, catching her eye.

A very tall, very muscular, very splendidly dressed woman exited the carriage, soon followed by a young girl. Even though she was fully clothed, Anna would have recognized her anywhere. The strongwoman—Helga Bitterman—walked toward the field, her daughter, Inez, close to her side.

Anna wasn't the only one who noticed their arrival. "Who in the world is that?" Ruthie asked, her jaw slack. "She has to be the tallest woman that I've ever seen. Taller than me."

Even Lady Everly was awed. "She's beautiful," she added in a hush.

"You think so?" Ruthie asked.

Lady Everly nodded, not taking her gaze from Helga. "Look at the way she walks… Confidence is the most beautiful thing in the world. Real confidence."

The crowd split as if Moses had entered the field. Helga smiled kindly, nodding at the gesture, taking all the gawks and stares as gracefully as one could. Her dress was demure but formfitting, with large flounces covering most of her arms. But there was no hiding the pure power simmering underneath the pearls and silk.

"Miss Anna," Helga said, stopping in front of her. "It is wonderful to see you again." Her accent continued to mystify, but Anna had no difficulty hearing her as the crowd died down to an eavesdropping silence.

"I'm so glad you came today, Mrs. Bitterman," she replied. "I had no idea."

Helga smiled indulgently at the daughter who clung to her like a limpet. "When we were told about your event, Inez wouldn't hear of skipping it. It's all she's talked about all week. We were so nervous we would be late, but you haven't started yet, yes? You are still leading the clinic, are you not? You've seen me work, and now I would love to watch you do the same."

Lady Everly stepped forward. "Actually, there's been a change of plan. I'm going to—"

"No there hasn't," Anna said quickly. "It's me. I'm ready. And yes, you're right on time."