She looked between the two of them. “Is it bad news?” Her hands trembled, so she buried them in her skirts.
“No, not at all,” Lockwood said. “I have a surprise and I wanted to tell you right away.”
Daddy sat behind his desk and leaned back, saying nothing. It was clear he didn’t wish to give her any hints, but at least he didn’t seem angry. “Oh?”
The duke folded his hands behind his back, the pose emphasizing the white evening vest hugging his lean frame. “I reached out to Mr. Charles Robb at the All England Croquet and Lawn Tennis Club in Wimbledon. He is the instructor of—”
“Mrs. Hillyard.” Maddie clasped her hands under her chin as her heart started to thump with excitement. Blanche Bingley Hillyard was one of the greatest tennis players in the world. She had won several championships in recent years, and Maddie admired her career from afar.
Lockwood’s expression softened, as if relieved. “Yes, Mrs. Hillyard. Mr. Robb has agreed to come here, to Newport, in order to train with you this summer.”
Elation weakened her knees and she let out a soft gasp. Mr. Robb, coaching her? It was absolutely surreal.
“I see she likes the idea, Lockwood,” her father said with a chuckle.
She blinked up at the duke. “How . . . ?”
“Think of it as an engagement present.”
“I am stunned. Thank you, Lockwood.”
“I thought you might like it.” Lockwood lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “He’ll sail here as soon as the tournament finishes in mid-July.”
She nearly vibrated with excitement. That meant she could train with Mr. Robb during all of August. Of course, there would be wedding planning to get under way. Perhaps Mama could do most of that without her.
“And one more surprise,” the duke said. “I have requested plans to have a lawn tennis court put in at my country estate.”
Goodness, Lockwood had been busy. “This is tremendous news. Again, thank you. I will tell Mother so she knows not to count on having me around in August.”
“No need to keep it a secret,” the duke said. “Please, tell everyone.”
Had she detected a bite in the way he said everyone? Was this something to do with Harrison and the game of croquet today?
It was clear the duke was taunting Harrison throughout the game . . .
Had Lockwood sensed the attraction between Maddie and Harrison? It seemed improbable, considering the most damning moments had happened when they were alone. Yet Katherine and Nellie had inferred an attachment. There was a good chance Lockwood had, as well.
Her neck grew hot, embarrassment climbing toward her face. Without meaning to, had she cast flirtatious glances at Harrison in front of the others? Was she wearing her heart on her sleeve at all times? How mortifying.
She had to do better at hiding her feelings. No one must learn of her improper thoughts. And it went without saying that she and Harrison could not be alone ever again.
Chapter Eleven
“Is everyone ready?” Maddie stood at the front of the tent, wisps of brown hair whipping about her head, the hint of a smile on her face.
Harrison studied her from under his lashes, admiring the fine bone structure beneath the tanned skin from her outdoor pursuits. She was a fascinating amalgam of proper lady and rebellious upstart. A conventional beauty with a penchant for mischief.
It was the rebellious side of her that had drawn him in all those years ago, two moths seeking the same light. The attraction had compounded until he was starving for her, with a ferocity that should have scared him. He always assumed they would end up together, that their personalities were a perfect match. And as he got older, the craving for her grew worse until she broke his heart, when he realized his feelings were unrequited.
But unrequited no longer.
He drummed his fingers on the table, restless and edgy. She’d avoided him ever since the gazebo. He told himself this was a good thing, that her reaction meant he’d rattled her, but it was hard to see her smiles bestowed anywhere but him. Difficult to hear her laughter aimed at others while receiving none for himself. He was greedy when it came to her attention and she was depriving him of it, and the loss shredded his insides like a thousand tiny cuts.
His eyes moved to Lockwood, who stood talking to Kit in the corner of the tent. The duke was a decent enough sort, Harrison supposed, and if he weren’t in love with Maddie he’d bless their marriage with his whole heart. But his heart was spoken for, given to Maddie all those years ago when they’d played in the surf and tramped across the chateau grounds. Watching fireworks and chasing butterflies, digging up clams and climbing trees.
The question was what Maddie wanted.
Betrothals were not easy to break, especially one as high profile as Maddie’s, and calling it off would cause quite the scandal.
That possibility didn’t scare him, however. In fact, he liked scandal. He’d created so many in both New York and Paris that no one even bothered discussing him anymore. One thing he’d learned was that money smoothed over most every faux pas, especially in America. Wealth mattered even when propriety did not—and the Websters had more money than almost anyone, save J. P. Morgan and Vanderbilt. They could weather any storm . . . even a broken betrothal to a duke.
“Ready?” she called, reclaiming his attention. The ladies all rose in unison.
Damn. What was happening?
“Weren’t listening, were you?” Kit slid into the empty chair next to Harrison.
“No. What are we doing?”
“Oh, not we.” Kit chuckled. “You.”
“Go!” Maddie said—and every eye swung to Harrison.
He resisted the old urge to fidget. “What am I supposed to do?” he muttered to Kit.
“Sardines. You’re to hide and the ladies will find you.”
Harrison remembered the game from childhood. When each woman found his hiding spot, they would squeeze in with him, all of them cozily waiting until the last person found the group. An idea occurred. “I think Miss Webster should play, as well,” he called out.
Everyone in the tent paused, looking to Maddie. Her brow wrinkled. “Why would I play?”
“You know all the best hiding places on the property. You should hide and I’ll search along with the guests.”
She flicked a glance toward the duke before looking back at Harrison. “You also know the best hiding places.”
“Nonsense.” He waved his hand. “It’s been years since I played hide-and-seek here. I’ve forgotten them all.” Kit covered his mouth with his hand as if he might laugh, but Harrison ignored him.
“I agree,” Mrs. Webster said from the side of the tent. “You always loved this game, Maddie. Enjoy yourself.”
Lockwood stroked his chin, lips pursed in thought, as if he were trying to figure out Harrison’s angle. Yet he offered up no protest, probably assuming Harrison would be occupied with the ladies.
The assumption was reasonable . . . but also untrue.
“Fine.” She put her hands on her hips, still looking unconvinced. “I’ll play, but why must I be the one to hide? It ruins the point of the game.”
Harrison tried to cover his desperation under a bored expression. “The game will be over in two minutes if I hide. I’ll be found behind that bush over there. You are the only one who can make this a challenge.”