Page 41 of The Rake Desires the Diamond

The ordinarily sweet Anna smirked. “Tell them about the chalice, Ethan.”

“’Tis a chamberpot painted gold,” Harrington declared, the line of his jaw firm as his eyes twinkled with delight.

Despite his deteriorating mood, Evan managed a chuckle. It was bloody hysterical, after all.

“Do the hotels seek guests who are skilled athletes for game day?” Wellspring asked.

“Absolutely. Why do you think I am putting up with Eaton’s shite for the fortnight?” Harrington said.

“William.” Anna playfully slapped his shoulder. “I thought we invited Evan so he could paint my portrait.” She giggled in Evan’s direction, letting him know she was teasing.

“Just another bonus,” Harrington said. “That and helping another man court my dour sister.” Harrington winked at him. “You are earning your keep, Eaton.”

Normally, Evan reveled in good-natured ribbing, but currently, he wasn’t confident he could throw a ball a foot without losing his balance and toppling over. Therefore, laughing as others had fun at his expense left a lot to be desired. And the farce with Katrina no longer held any amusement.

“Oh my. ’Tis lovely.” Anna popped onto her toes and pointed.

The sunlight and breeze combined, casting a hazy glow and giving the oval field a dream-like appearance. Vertical wooden posts topped with bails sat at each end of the rectangular pitch. A large tent ran along one side of the grounds. Dozens of people milled about in bright colors, many of the women carrying pastel parasols.

Evan and his party approached the group of players in white who surrounded Justine.

“Are you ready, men?” Harrington asked enthusiastically. The bloke had always made one hell of a team captain, whether it was boxing, fencing, cards, or cricket.

“Our opponents have not shown up yet,” Justine said. “Although many of their guests have arrived.”

Evan perused the crowd, his gaze landing on the beautiful blonde surrounded by the feminine peach glow. She was arm-in-arm with her cousin, and the two of them were whispering about something. Probably what a horse’s arse he wasfor leaving Katrina in the library. Hopefully, someday she’d understand the discipline it had taken him to do the right thing.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Anna beamed at her husband, then joined the spectators.

While they waited for the other team to arrive, Harrington led stretches and a light jog around the field. The exercise energized Evan, and it was invigorating to run past Katrina. So much so, that after they finished their laps, Evan sprinted across the field, pivoted, and raced back to his team. When he was a child, Grandmother Louisa had compared him to a frisky puppy showing off. One-and-twenty, and he hadn’t changed an iota.

“They are finally here.” Justine waved to a group of men plodding toward them.

Such a lethargic lot ought to be easy to beat.

“Hello, Felix,” she called.

The man leading the parade shook hands with Harrington and bowed to Justine. “Please forgive us for our tardiness. Two of our men did not show. We waited and waited. No idea what happened to them. They are responsible workers. Don’t know if you remember them from the past few years, Mrs. Fletcher, but they are both groundskeepers.” He sighed. “Without them, we can’t field a full team.”

A few moments earlier, Evan would have excused himself from the competition to help even up the numbers, but with his second wind and Katrina watching, he was ready to kick some cricket arse. He wanted that golden chamberpot. Even more than that, he desired Katrina’s admiration.

Justine’s lips twisted as she considered their dilemma.

Finally, Harrington expelled an exasperated grunt. “Shall we see if any of the guests from either of the hotels would like to join your team? I am sure we can find men to fill in.”

As if on cue, two arsewipes strolled across the field toward them. There was no mistaking the arrogant lift of their noses and the garish waistcoat of the leader.

“Bloody hell,” Harrington mumbled.

Evan’s thoughts exactly. Probably everyone’s thoughts since there were a lot of shuffling feet and kicking of the unfortunate grass.

Up marched the duo of unwanted blighters, infiltrating the athletes. Greyson no longer wore his wrist bandage, but his eye had turned a blotchy purple, and his smirk was disconcerting. At least Taylor had the decency to look abashed.

“Why the long faces? What seems to be the problem?” Greyson asked.

“None of your bloody business,” Harrington snapped. “Why do you look like you lost a pub brawl?”

Evan’s thoughts exactly.