Lady Rosabella's Ruse - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,36

said, granted a walk to her end of the pitch because of her mistake.

‘It won’t happen again,’ she said, waiting for the ball’s return. She frowned when she realised he was staring at her feet. ‘Is something wrong?’

The corner of his mouth kicked up in a private smile. ‘No. Just admiring your sandals.’

Strange man. There was nothing at all unusual about her shoes, except maybe that she wasn’t wearing stockings. ‘Incorrigible,’ she muttered.

He laughed and she shook her head at him.

One of the grooms threw her the ball and she strode back to her position. She gripped the ball firmly and sent it down the pitch. It curved. Bannerby altered his position only to discover the ball straightening. It went between him and his bat and knocked the wicket askew.

‘Out!’ Mrs De Lacy jumped up and down in excitement.

‘Very nice,’ Stanford muttered as he waited for the next man to come out: Albert, the groom on the men’s side. ‘Where did you learn that little trick?’

‘Trick?’ she said innocently. ‘Now what will you give me, so I won’t make you lose?’

‘A kiss?’ he said.

She glanced at him over her shoulder with a small chuckle. ‘I think not.’

She signalled her fielders to draw in close. Their only chance to win was to stump one of them out, which meant fielding the ball close to the wickets.

‘Last desperate measure?’ Stanford called.

‘Sorry it is you at this end instead of the other?’ she replied.

He laughed ruefully. ‘How right you are.’

Once she was sure her ladies were in the best spots, she bowled her ball. A nice slow easy ball. Seeing his chance, Albert struck hard. It ran along the ground and bypassed Mrs Mallow. The men ran. Mrs De Lacy somehow scooped up the ball and threw it to Rosa. With a grin at the desperate face of the running groom, she knocked the stump down with the ball. ‘Out,’ she cried. ‘We won.’

‘No,’ Fitzwilliam said grinning. ‘It is a draw. Stanford made it to his end before you hit the stump.

A tie. A perfect ending. Though she could have used winning some money, not losing any was nearly as good. They gathered bats and balls and stumps and returned to Lady Keswick. ‘Who won?’ she asked, opening her eyes.

‘A tie,’ Stanford said. ‘Which deserves a toast.’ The footmen quickly distributed glasses of wine.

‘To the ladies,’ he toasted.

They drank in high good humour.

The sun went behind a cloud. Rosa looked up. The sky which had been clear earlier, was now filled with ominous clouds coming in from the east.

‘Oh, dear,’ Mrs De Lacy said. ‘Do you think it will rain?’

Stanford studied the clouds for a moment. ‘I shouldn’t be at all surprised if we weren’t in for a storm.’

As if to confirm his words, they heard the roll of thunder in the distance.

‘We had best make haste,’ Rosa said, and hurried off to help the grooms get Lady Keswick into her carriage.

Chapter Seven

The clock had struck one in the morning before Rosa dared make her way out of the house and into a storm that seemed to have no interest in abating. The edges of her cloak whipped out of her fingers and flew apart. Driving rain soaked the front of her gown. She put down her lantern and retied the strings tighter. She glanced back. No sign of anyone following.

This really was her last chance. She wished she’d thought of the cellars and the attic yesterday. Going out tonight was a huge risk after telling Stanford she was done searching. All evening she’d been picturing her and her sisters out on the street, or, worse yet, in a debtors’ prison. If she didn’t find the will tonight, she’d have to make a new plan. Not even her dream of working in the theatre would help her. She needed money now, right away.

And she’d spent the afternoon playing cricket. Flirting with Stanford. Offering advice to a woman who had never lacked for a penny in her life. Could things get any more ridiculous?

Thank goodness Stanford believed her when she said she wasn’t going to look any more. Well, there was no reason why he would not. She had meant it last night. He certainly wouldn’t be looking for her to go out on a night like tonight.

She plunged into the forest. The wind dropped dramatically, though it howled in the canopy overhead. She picked up her skirts in one hand and, holding the lantern high, ran along the path, avoiding the mud as