The Marquess and the Midwife (*On Hold*)

12 Kyrie

"No, it's about balance," Norah was telling me as we played a game of croquet on the front lawn of Wentworth under the watchful eye of our chaperones. Lady Collins and Grace sat beneath a tent nearby, lounging in chaises and snacking on treats as they gossiped about the ladies of the season and glanced our way from time to time. Norah was shifting her stance, spreading her legs further apart as she held her mallet and aimed. "Keep your legs too close together and you'll topple over as you swing."

She swung the mallet and struck the ball. I watched from where I stood a few paces away as the ball rolled through the hoop and she burst into a big grin, raising her arms triumphantly. I chuckled, shaking my head, and strode forward to take my strike.

"Balance," I muttered under my breath, lining up my shot. "This coming from the woman who spilled my drink all over me at the first ball she attended since coming back."

Norah rolled her eyes.

"I have to force men to approach me somehow," she teased and I snorted which made me miss my shot. The ball went wide and I muttered a curse. She giggled happily and then ran ahead to strike the next ball.

"I'm sure you don't have to force men to approach you," I said, following her to the next phase of the game.

"They weren't exactly lining up before you and I announced our courtship."

I watched her for a moment as she lined up her shot and took it. She missed but only barely.

"You do know you're intimidating, right?" I asked, striding for my next ball and aiming.

"Intimidating?" She replied as if it were the most ludicrous thing she'd ever heard. "Me?"

"Like right now, with croquet. You know you're frightfully competitive? You actually want to win."

"Should I wish to lose?"

"Most women use this game as an opportunity. Appear weak, let the man wrap his arms around you and guide you, show you how to aim, how to strike. Let him get close and use your feminine wiles to entrap him."

She snorted.

"Feminine wiles?" She asked with a grin.

"You know what I mean," I said, unable to keep from smiling myself. "Act the damsel in distress. Play to his ego by letting him play the hero."

"Women actually do this?"

"All the time. To me? On multiple occasions."

"Pathetic," she muttered and, with that, took the game-winning shot.

She jumped up and down, whooping and cheering for herself, and I just smiled and shook my head, raising a brow as if to say see what I mean. But she only stuck her tongue out at me and continued her celebrations.

"Competitive," I repeated to make a point. "Intimidating."

"Sore loser," she countered, sticking out a lip in a mocking pout and I laughed.

We made our way back toward her mother and my sister, speaking freely and easily with one another as we did. I had never had a female friend before. It was refreshing, being able to speak to a woman without having to worry about my comments being misconstrued as interest or giving her any false hope for a future between us. It was easier like this when there was no need to manage expectations and we could just be ourselves. And as it turned out, I liked Norah Collins. When this was all over and we went our separate ways to futures that weren't yet certain, I would hope that we could still remain friends. And somehow, I knew she felt the same.

Lady Collins and Grace led us back into the house and toward the dining room where lunch was being served. It was a delicate spread. Little finger sandwiches and bowls of fruit. But we dined together, Norah asking my sister about the gardens and me telling her mother about the renovations she had heard we were completing in the west hall. When lunch was over, Grace took Lady Collins off to view some of the new artwork she had acquired to add to the walls of the estate and Norah and I headed off to my office to look over the accounts. We kept the door open, as expected, the footman standing just outside.