He pressed a finger to his lips. “But you suggested I rid myself of him, did you not? He is still alive, by the way.”
“I did not think you would take my advice.”
“Then why did you give it?” The wisp of a smile broadened.
“Blythe told me everything, Your Grace. I imagined your tailor to be in London with a stable of clients, not an elderly retainer of your family who, after many years of service, would be tossed out on a whim. The poor man—”
“Silas,” he added helpfully. “His name is Silas.”
“Very well. I’m certain Silas suffered often under your employment—”
“Tormented every day.”
—Given your exacting nature.” She took a deep breath, not wishing to say more lest Granby pitch a fit and refuse the wager.
Bits of black ice glared down on her. “I can see Blythe has told you everything. It is a shame, for I did so enjoy thesufferingof Silas, but I was left with no other alternative. I couldn’t go about with a coat the incorrect length, could I? Given my exacting nature.”
“As you say, Your Grace.”
“Very well. I agree. If you win our match, I will settle an indecent sum on Silas, enough so that he may live the remainder of his days a wealthy man. And a cottage, should he wish it.”
A weight lifted from her heart, along with a great deal of guilt at the situation she’d inadvertently caused. “Thank you, Your Grace.” She walked to the designated spot at the edge of the green. Theo stood with Carstairs while Lady Carstairs talked with Beatrice. All four of them turned as she and Granby approached.
Romy ignored them all.
“Are you not curious,” Granby’s words hovered close to her ear as he bent forward, “what I will ask for should I manage the impossible task of beating you at bowls?”
Romy was confident of her victory. Her father had taught her well. “I’ve no intention of losing.”
A low rumble came from his chest.
“No one ever intends to lose, Lady Andromeda.”
13
Romy lost.
By onebloodypoint.
The game had dragged on much longer than anticipated. The sun was already low in the sky, and most of the other guests had either moved to the terrace to enjoy tea or gone up to their rooms before dinner.
Blythe strode past them on his way to the house, escorting Theo. He took Romy aside, whispering in her ear to pursue justice. Someone, he said, must put Granby in his place.
Haven appeared next, a smirk on his handsome face. He waited until Granby took his turn before murmuring cryptically to her, “He is already beat, Lady Andromeda. Only he doesn’t know it.”
No amount of goodwill, however, gained her the final crucial point she needed. When Granby knocked her bowl, putting him closer to the jack, she blinked stupidly in shock. The shot shouldn’t have been possible, given the distance and—
“The green is uneven,” she stated with assurance.
“I see you are prepared to accept your loss graciously,” came his sarcastic reply. “What a poor loser you are, Lady Andromeda.” The breeze was ruffling his hair again, making the dark strands drag against his collar.
Romy pulled her eyes away, refusing to allow the sight to distract her. Why didn’t he cut his hair? Like the gardens, the thick waves had been left to grow wild in blatant contradiction to the rest of Granby.
“It is rude to gloat, Your Grace.”
“I am a duke. I don’t need to gloat.”
The worst part of her loss was not Granby’s pleasure, which was considerable, but the fact that now Romy could not help Silas. He was destitute and homeless because of her.
