Star's Crossing

27: Mysteries

Mare was unsurprised at her own immediate desire to engage in whatever game the boys had struck up again on the great sprawling Watt lawn.

She was surprised, however, when both Alison and Lilith readily agreed. She suspected all three girls harbored more than enough reason and means to administer their aggression on something, whether it be ball or, should things get testy, a boy.

While Camden explained the rules, Mare concocted a plan of attack. It was Camden with whom she ought to move first—and she rather desired an audience with the gilt-eyed, half-smiling Geoffrey—but it was Theodore Bridge who kept catching her eye.

As Camden blundered on, and Lilith and Alison politely smiled and offered sharp retorts here and there, Teddy continued to glance Mare's way. Once she caught him staring, and he had not even the gall to look away. Instead he held her eyes impassively, his own cloaked and roaming, strangely indecipherable.

So. This was how it would be. Mare knew she was a fool to take Theodore Bridge at his word. Camden, though his awareness of their not-quite courtship was high priority, would simply have to wait. Mare had to deal with Teddy. Today.

Now.

After all, even if she managed to wrangle Camden and either confirm his identity or lack thereof and, with any luck, lock down his hand, even a breath of her activities with Geoffrey would dismantle the whole affair.

As well as her reputation.

But Mare's face did not flare at the prospect. No tears welled in her eyes and no shame settled in her gut. In its familiar place there was only rage—at Matilde, her mother, her sisters; at her helpless friends, at society on the whole, at the despicable fathers of these boys, and most significantly, at Theodore Bridge.

So when the game began, Mare was less surprised than the rest of the company that she was the first to make off with the ball. This modified bout of rugby would be quite simple and straight-forward and, luckily for Mare, allowed for necessary roughness.

"Oof!" Teddy struck the crest of the grassy hill, landing on his rear and remaining down a long moment. "Lord, Mare."

"Sorry!" Mare clapped hands to her lips, but only so long as it took Camden to retrieve the ball from Teddy's side and laugh at his cousin. "Forgive me, Mr. Bridge!"

Teddy sat up, rubbing his jaw, where the dense leather ball had struck him. A flush tinged his cheeks, though from the embarrassment or the exercise, Mare couldn't be sure. When the others had turned their attentions back to the game, Mare flashed him as nasty a smile as she could muster.

The game proceeded. Mare was surprised, and quite internally pleased, to find herself hardly winded after fifteen minutes of catching and kicking the ball up and down the knoll. If she or her dear friends had had any inclination of what their afternoon would include, they'd have certainly selected different dress. Mare's mother would scold her fiercely for the grass and dirt stains that quickly appeared at the hem and knees of her cotton gown.

But it was worth it, and this Mare discovered quickly. In sport there was no question of touch or aggression; she might give Teddy Bridge a hard shove and no one would be the wiser. Likewise, when he caught Lilith in his arms and wrested the ball from her strong little hands, no one so much as thought to turn up their nose.

And when Geoffrey took Mare to the ground, arm around her waist, neither his cousin nor brother spoke a word, but carried on playing as Camden scooped up the ball and whooped down the field toward some zone or other. Geoffrey hoisted himself up, palms planted on either side of Mare's waist, and gazed down at her.