Page 50 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘You used to be a terror,’ Brandon said, in a reminiscing sort of way. ‘Do you remember how we would sneak into each other’s bedchambers to make apple pie beds?’

Ashford flushed. Miss Hesse let out a scandalized giggle. Lydia’s insides pickled with second-hand mortification. Dear lord, was this truly her opponent?

‘Such rascals,’ Lady Hesse said indulgently.

‘What else did you do?’ Miss Hesse asked.

‘Enough, Brandon,’ Ashford said.

‘Once,’ Brandon said, ‘I dyed all of his shirts pink.’

Miss Hesse giggled again, and Brandon’s face lit up.

‘He repaid me though,’ Brandon said, ‘by stuffing eggs under the floorboards of my bedchambers. You would not believe the scent they made!’

‘Enough, Brandon,’ Ashford repeated.

‘What happened to that boy?’ Brandon asked, still grinning.

‘I grew up,’ Ashford said, quellingly. ‘Perhaps you might try it.’

‘Sounds ghastly,’ Brandon said.

Miss Hesse giggled again.

‘May I offer you some lemonade, my lords?’ Reeves said quietly, as Dacre and Hesse – game finished – approached the table. Hesse accepted a glass without comment, while ever-polite Dacre looked Reeves directly in the eye to smile his gratitude. By now, Lydia understood this politeness to be entirely characteristic of him. She had not witnessed Dacre make a single discourtesy to any of Hawkscroft’s household staff, and she would wager he received an elevated level of service, as a result, for from dawn to dusk his cup never ran empty.

‘Thank you, Reeves,’ Dacre said, accepting a glass which looked marginally fuller than Hesse’s. ‘Though I am not sure I deserve it after my defeat.’

‘You did not let me win?’ Hesse checked.

‘Would I do that?’ Dacre protested mildly. Reeves suppressed a smile as he turned away.

‘Do not fear, Hesse!’ Sir Waldo said. ‘I attest that Dacre’s backhand truly is that weak.’

‘True enough,’ Dacre said, accepting this teasing as gracefully as he always did.

‘Would anyone else care for a game?’ Hesse asked.

Lady Morton rose to her feet, brushing down the skirts of her Pomona-green gown so that the delicate fabric clung even more closely to her shape.

‘I do. Though I do not know the rules,’ Lady Morton said, ‘so you shall have to teach me the correct form.’

Lydia suppressed a smile. Such tutelage would surely involve a great deal of close contact.

‘I think Hesse ought to rest,’ Lady Hesse said, apparently thinking along the same lines as Lydia, ‘the day is so warm.’

‘Mother,’ Hesse muttered, raking his hand through his pale locks. ‘I am not a child.’

‘Did you play pranks as a boy, Lord Dacre?’ Miss Hesse said, turning enquiringly in his direction.

‘Oh, I used to torture him,’ Waldo declared proudly, before Dacre could answer. ‘Once I took his cufflinks and—’

‘Took?’ Pip asked, leaning forward suddenly. ‘Stole?’

‘Only briefly,’ Sir Waldo said irritated. ‘No – don’t write that in your little book, sir, it was only a prank!’

‘Perhaps we might speak of something else.’ Ashford pinched his nose with two fingers, as if to ward off a headache.