Scandal in Spring (Wallflowers #4)(25)

The only difficult part was that the wooden bowls were deliberately less rounded on one side, so they never quite rolled in a straight line. Daisy soon learned to compensate for the bowls’ asymmetry by casting a little to the right or left, as needed. It was a fast green with short grass and hard-packed soil, which was a good thing since Daisy was in a hurry to be done and return to Honoria and the ghost.

Since there was an equal number of women and men, the players were divided into teams of two. Daisy was paired with Llandrindon, who was a proficient player.

“You’re quite good, Miss Bowman,” Lord Llandrindon exclaimed. “Are you sure you’ve never played before?”

“Never,” Daisy replied cheerfully. Picking up a wooden sphere, she turned the flat side to the right. “It must be your able instructions, my lord.” Taking two steps forward to the edge of the delivery line, she drew back and released the bowl in a deftly spun roll. It knocked one of the opposing players’ bowls smartly out of the way and ended up exactly two inches from the jack. They had won the round.

“Well done,” said Mr. Rickett, pausing to polish his spectacles. Replacing them, he smiled at Daisy and added, “You move with such grace, Miss Bowman. It is a delight to witness your skill.”

“It has nothing to do with skill,” Daisy said modestly. “Beginner’s luck, I’m afraid.”

Lady Miranda, a slender blond girl with a porcelain complexion, was examining her delicate hands with concern. “I believe I’ve broken a fingernail,” she announced.

“Let me help you to a chair,” Rickett said in instant concern, as if she had broken an arm rather than a fingernail, and the two made their way off the green.

Daisy reflected ruefully that she should have deliberately lost the game, and then she wouldn’t have to play another round. But it was unfair to one’s teammate to lose a game on purpose. And Lord Llandrindon seemed positively delighted by their success.

“Now,” Llandrindon said, “let’s see who we are to face in the final round.”

They watched the two remaining teams compete, Mr. Swift and Miss Leighton against Mr. Mardling and Miss Higginson. Mr. Mardling was an uneven player, following brilliant shots with awkward ones, whereas Miss Higginson was far more consistent. Cassandra Leighton was hopelessly bad and highly amused by the fact, giggling and tittering uncontrollably during the entire match. It was profoundly annoying, that continuous laughter, but it didn’t seem to bother Matthew Swift.

Swift was an aggressive and tactical player, considering each shot carefully, displaying an easy economy of motion as he bowled. Daisy noticed that he showed no compunction about knocking the other players’ bowls out of the way, or moving the jack to their disadvantage.

“A formidable player,” Lord Llandrindon commented softly to Daisy, his eyes twinkling. “Do you think we can best him?”

Suddenly Daisy forgot all about the novel that awaited her inside the manor. The prospect of playing against Matthew Swift filled her with anticipation. “Doubtful. But we can give it a good try, can’t we?”

Llandrindon laughed appreciatively. “We certainly can.”

Swift and Miss Leighton won the game, and the others left the green with good-natured exclamations.

The four remaining players gathered up the bowls and the jack, and returned to the delivery line. Each team would get four bowls total, two shots for each player.

As Daisy turned to face Matthew Swift, he looked at her for the first time since she had arrived. His gaze, direct and challenging, caused her heart to thump hard in her chest, sending blood hurtling through her veins. His tousled hair fell over his forehead, and his sun-warmed complexion glowed with a subtle sheen of perspiration.

“We’ll toss a coin to see who goes first,” Lord Llandrindon suggested.

Swift nodded, his gaze dropping away from Daisy.

Cassandra Leighton squealed with delight as she and Swift won the coin toss. Skillfully Swift rolled the jack out to the head of the green in a perfect position.

Miss Leighton picked up a bowl, holding it close to her bosom in what Daisy suspected was a deliberate ploy to call attention to her generous endowments. “You must advise me, Mr. Swift,” she said, sliding him a helpless glance from beneath curly lashes. “Should I throw it with the flat side of the ball on the right or the left?”

Swift moved closer to her, repositioning the ball in her hands. Miss Leighton radiated delight at the attention he paid her. He murmured some advice, pointing out the best path for the bowl while Miss Leighton leaned closer until their heads were nearly touching. Annoyance spiraled upward from Daisy’s chest, tightening her throat muscles like a corkscrew.

Finally Swift stepped back. Miss Leighton moved forward with a few graceful steps, letting the bowl fly. But the drive was weak, and the bowl wobbled and rolled to a halt right in the middle of the grass lane. The rest of the game would be far more difficult with that bowl in the way unless someone cared to waste one of their shots to knock it aside.

“Hang it all,” Daisy muttered beneath her breath.

Miss Leighton nearly collapsed with more loud giggles. “Dear me, I’ve fouled things up awfully, haven’t I?”

“Not at all,” Swift said easily. “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”

Irritably Daisy wondered why he was being so nice to Miss Leighton. She wouldn’t have thought he was the kind of man who was attracted to silly women.