The Regency Season: Passionate Promises. Ann Lethbridge

he called out, along with several others at a particularly good catch.

      Minette glanced over at him with a smile. ‘You like this game.’

      It wasn’t really a question, but he answered anyway. ‘I do.’

      ‘Do you also belong to a team?’

      It was an innocent enough question, but it meant more than she might have guessed because she didn’t see any reason why he might not belong to a team. The villagers hadn’t minded his lameness, either. He may not have been a fast runner but he could hit, and had a good eye when it came to catching. He grinned at her. Yes, he was actually grinning. ‘Dukes have their dignity to maintain, you know.’

      She laughed. ‘Lazybones.’

      Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the companion twitching anxiously. Looking as if she felt the need to set the record straight, to defend him from the accusation of laziness and attribute it to his lame leg. His grin died.

      ‘Oh, look!’ Minette said. ‘That is Monsieur Brummell. I really thought it was a tease to get me to come with you today.’

      Brummell strode out onto the pitch to a round of applause and a few catcalls. As usual he looked cool and elegant.

      ‘How on earth did they convince him to take part?’ Lady Priscilla asked. ‘I heard he hates any form of violent exercise.’

      They watched in silent awe as the arbiter of fashion made run after run, reaching a grand total of twenty-three before he was finally caught. The man was good. He bowed to the applause that broke out as he left.

      During the interval, the servants served delicacies designed to please the ladies—cucumber sandwiches and little cakes, along with more champagne and a fresh pot of tea.

      ‘It is all so very English,’ Minette said, glancing over at him with a challenging look.

      ‘Is that good or bad?’

      ‘Très bon,’ she said in a decided way that gave him a sense of great contentment he found unexpected. She frowned. ‘There is a man over there, he keeps looking this way.’

      He kept his voice low, for her ears only. ‘He’s probably wishing he was here instead of me, given my lovely companions.’

      She sat up a little straighter. ‘Are you flirting with me, Freddy?’

      ‘Is it not the duty of a fiancé to flirt with his intended?’

      The kittenish look reappeared. ‘Now you really are teasing.’ She smiled at him, and something inside him contracted.

      It wasn’t lust, though there was always an undercurrent of that whenever she was nearby, it was about liking. Not something he had ever expected. On a day like today, it was too easy to imagine living this sort of life of easy companionship, mutual respect perhaps even— No. That was too much to ask. This marriage was all about maintaining the proprieties and keeping Gabe’s friendship. It would only ever be one small facet of his life, of necessity.

      ‘He’s coming over,’ Minette said.

      Arthur. A cold fist settled in his gut. He rose to his feet. ‘Cousin,’ he said as the man reached them.

      ‘I hear congratulations are in order,’ Arthur said, his expression sour.

      ‘Thank you, cuz. I did not expect to see you here today.’

      ‘Liz’s idea,’ his cousin said, kicking at a tuft of grass.

      Ah, yes. Liz would have been shocked to her toes at the news. Freddy couldn’t help feeling a little twinge of satisfaction. Not that his impending marriage would alter the line of inheritance at all, but it might shake Liz out of her complacency.

      ‘May I introduce you to my betrothed, Mademoiselle Rideau, her friend, Lady Priscilla, and her companion, Miss Bernice? Authur Stone. My cousin.’

      Arthur bowed low over the two young ladies’ hands and gave Miss Bernice a brief nod. It was without question the appropriate greeting, but Minette bristled. Once she knew Arthur, she would understand that his cousin had little or no self-esteem and, therefore, establishing the order of precedence was of prime importance.

      ‘It is delightful to meet a member of Freddy’s family,’ Minette said, dipping a curtsey. ‘You are the first.’

      ‘I was at Gosport’s ball,’ Arthur said with a disapproving frown, ‘though it did not seem quite the right time for introductions.’

      Minette raised a questioning brow.

      Arthur rocked on his heels, his ears turning pink. ‘I had another engagement.’

      No doubt he had scuttled off to confer with his wife.

      Minette smiled and said nothing.

      ‘Are the boys here?’ Freddy asked, looking around. ‘And Liz?’

      ‘No. I am here with a friend.’ He winced. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here, old chap, cricket not being your sort of thing.’ More foot-shuffling. ‘Do you think we can have a word in private?’

      ‘It looks as if the match is about to start again,’ Lady Priscilla said.

      The players were striding onto the field, talking and laughing, with Beau Brummell in their midst. They separated to take up their various positions. With the attention now focussed on play, Arthur leaned closer. ‘About this engagement of yours. Do you think it is such a good idea?’

      ‘I don’t think it is any of your business, actually,’ Freddy said, smiling.

      Arthur flinched. ‘There is the business of the accident.’ He glanced around and lowered his voice still further. ‘New information might come to light at any time. No statute of limitations, and that sort of thing.’

      Freddy turned to face him square on, his anger icy in his veins. Arthur had always sworn he’d seen nothing of the accident. ‘Have you regained your memory, then?’

      The other man turned back to the game. ‘I was a boy. I panicked. But in hindsight there are things I remember. Perhaps.’

      Freddy’s hand curled into fists. This was Liz’s work, no doubt. ‘Go to hell, Arthur. Whatever scandal arises will taint you, too, you know.’

      Arthur shrivelled in on himself. ‘You should think about it, though,’ he said. ‘That’s all. Think about it.’

      Freddy wanted to strangle him. Or Liz. Or both of them together. But they were his family. And he’d already been the death of one member of it. ‘Tell Liz she has nothing to fear with regard to the succession.’

      A shout went up and he turned his head to see a ball heading straight at his party. An excellent hit over the boundary. He stretched out a hand and caught it to a burst of applause.

      ‘Well caught, sir,’ someone yelled.

      He threw it back to the bowler, who bowed his thanks. Meanwhile, the batsman was awarded six runs.

      He glanced around. Arthur, the sniveller, had taken the opportunity to scuttle off and was now talking to a group a little distance away, but he must have felt Freddy’s gaze on him because he half turned and gave a terse nod of understanding. It seemed he was content to accept Freddy’s word, for now.

      ‘Freddy,’ Minette said, smiling at him over her shoulder. ‘I cannot believe you caught that ball. They will surely ask you to join their team.’

      The bitterness inside him escaped his control. ‘No. They won’t. I can’t run.’ And everyone knew it. Half of them had been at school with him.

      Her expression of shock at his harsh words followed quickly by the look of pity in her lovely brown eyes only made him feel worse.

      Damn it all. He never whined about his foot. ‘And as I told you, dukes are far too important to be playing silly games. I invited you because you need to