He thought he saw a hint of alarm spring up in her eyes, another good sign, but he couldn’t be certain, and he had no chance to decide.
“Are you two going to play or not?” Clara called, and Jonathan decided what he wanted.
“If I win,” he said, “I want to hold you in my arms.”
“What...” She paused, the alarm in her eyes obvious now, and his spirits soared. “What do you mean?” she asked in a whisper.
“I want three waltzes tomorrow night.”
She made a scoffing sound. “Not a chance.”
“One then,” he amended. “But make it the last one.”
“One waltz?” The tension in her relaxed. “Done,” she said and turned away, stalking back to the baseline.
He turned away as well, taking position to await her serve. When playing tennis, women were hampered by their corsets and skirts, which usually gave a man all the advantage, but any hope of that went straight to hell on Marjorie’s first serve, when she sent the ball right past him in an unreturnable shot to the corner. And when she continued to pound that corner, winning their first game in a walkover, he began to fear he’d be spending the weekend pining for her from afar like a lovesick adolescent.
“Having trouble, old chap?” Rex called, laughing as Jonathan moved to serve.
“No,” he lied, hefted the ball into the air, and sent it over the net in a cracking shot that she had to scramble to return. She managed it somehow, but much to his relief, it was out. It also told him she might be a bit weak on her backhand, and though he exploited that for all he was worth, his tennis was rusty as hell. Despite his best efforts, he barely won the second game. The third game went seven-all before he pulled ahead and won by a mere two points, only doing so because she stumbled over her skirt.
When they came to the net to shake hands, she looked ruefully at her torn hem and said, “If we play tennis again this weekend, I’m wearing bicycle trousers, and I don’t care if it shocks everyone at the house party.”
“You want another go?” He shook his head, giving her a pitying look. “You are a glutton for punishment.”
She scowled. “I didn’t mean I’d be playing you.”
“Oh.” He grinned, too relieved by his victory to be chastened. “My mistake.”
“I suppose now I have to dance with you tomorrow night,” she said with an aggravated sigh. “You’ll have the last waltz, but I don’t see how you think it’ll help you change my mind, since you’re leaving the very next day.”
“But I’m not.”
The aggravation in her face faded a bit, faltering into uncertainty. “What do you mean?”
“I told you I would cancel my trip, and I did.”
She recovered at once. “Stay or go,” she said with a shrug, “it doesn’t matter to me. We both know you will leave eventually anyway. It’s as predictable as the tides.”
She turned and started back toward the house. He didn’t try to stop her, and as she walked away, he was the one who felt the pain of being left behind, but instead of putting him off, it made him more determined than ever to change her mind.
“Did you truly cancel your trip?”
He inhaled sharply, turning to find his sister beside him, a little smile on her lips. “You heard all that, I suppose?”
Her smile widened. “Most of it.”
He groaned, reminded of the universal truth that sisters always managed to find out a man’s business. “How mortifying.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone else did.” Her smile faded, revealing the grave, shy girl he’d known in their childhood. “It’s serious, then?”
He didn’t even try to dissimulate. “It is for me. It remains to be seen if it’s serious for her.”
“Oh, Jack,” Clara murmured and smiled again, shaking her head. “You never cease to surprise me, little brother.”
Chapter 21
If Marjorie was worried that Jonathan would push her to reconsider his proposal, she soon discovered her worries were unfounded. After their battle over the tennis net, Marjorie didn’t speak with him again that evening. She did see him, however, seated at the far end of the duke’s long dining table, and she couldn’t help noticing that the dinner companions on either side of him were both young, pretty women who seemed thoroughly entertained by his company.
