Chapter 44: different fields

Chapter 44: Chapter 44: different fields

Damian crossed the open stretch of grass toward the polo grounds at an easy pace.

The morning breeze carried the distant sounds of horses, instructors, and students beginning their morning practice.

Without realizing it...

He smiled again.

The image refused to leave him.

Vivienne standing beneath the old oak tree.

One blue eye peeking through the tiny gap between her fingers.

Looking absolutely horrified after being caught.

Then immediately hiding again the moment she saw him laughing.

A quiet chuckle almost escaped him.

Somehow...

It was even more entertaining than when they were children.

Back then, little Vivienne had been all temper.

Now...

She simply blushed.

Covered her face.

And somehow convinced herself that if she couldn’t see him...

He couldn’t possibly see her.

It was ridiculous.

Utterly ridiculous.

"...Cute."

The thought slipped through his mind as naturally as breathing.

He never questioned it.

To Damian...

Lady Vivienne Beaumont had simply always been that way.

Someone whose expressions were impossible to ignore.

Someone whose reactions had always been irresistibly entertaining.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

By the time he reached the polo grounds, Anthony was already standing with several members of the club.

Beside him stood Evelyn Sinclair, listening quietly as one of the senior players discussed the morning’s practice.

Anthony noticed Damian first.

"There you are."

Damian slipped comfortably into the group.

"My apologies."

"I was... delayed."

Anthony looked at him once.

Then the faintest look of resignation crossed his face.

"...Lady Beaumont?"

Damian’s smile answered before his words did.

"I suspected you’d guess."

Anthony sighed.

"...Here we go again."

The exchange drew Evelyn’s attention.

She looked between the two cousins with quiet curiosity.

Only then did Damian realize she was standing there.

He inclined his head politely.

"Miss Sinclair."

"Good morning."

She returned the greeting with the same composed courtesy.

"Good morning, Lord Blackwood."

Her eyes shifted briefly toward Anthony before returning to Damian.

"It seems the two of you have something to discuss."

"I’ll check on Storm before practice."

Anthony nodded.

"Of course."

With another graceful nod, Evelyn excused herself and walked toward the stables.

The moment she was out of earshot, Anthony looked back at his cousin.

"Well?"

Damian slipped one hand into his pocket.

"I merely helped Lady Beaumont greet you."

Anthony stared at him for a second.

"You shouted my name across half the field."

"I did."

"You had everyone looking."

"...Also true."

"I assume you found that amusing."

"A little."

"A little?"

Damian laughed.

"...Quite a lot."

Anthony pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You really haven’t changed."

"Neither has she."

That earned another quiet sigh.

Anthony looked toward the old oak tree where Vivienne had been standing only moments earlier.

For an instant, an old memory surfaced.

A little blonde girl peeking from behind one of the manor’s stone pillars.

Watching until she thought he’d stopped looking.

Only to run over the moment he turned away.

And sometimes...

Damian somehow appears first.

He would tease her just enough that she’d become flustered, puff out her cheeks, declare him the most horrible person she’d ever met, and stomp away in outrage.

Anthony would finally have a few peaceful minutes to himself.

Some things...

Apparently never changed.

He looked at Damian.

"You were always remarkably effective at driving her away."

Damian looked almost offended.

"I preferred to think I was helping."

"You were helping."

Anthony smiled faintly.

"Myself."

That drew a genuine laugh from Damian.

"I’ll accept that."

The easy conversation settled into a comfortable silence.

Anthony reached for one of his riding gloves.

Damian’s gaze drifted, almost absentmindedly, toward the stables.

Evelyn had returned, leading her horse with practiced ease.

The Count of Sinclair’s daughter.

Lady Ashford’s ward.

He remembered seeing her several times over the years whenever their families crossed paths at Ashford Manor.

Always polite.

Always composed.

Graceful in a quiet, understated way.

There was no denying she was beautiful.

Nor that she carried herself exactly as one would expect of a young noble lady.

Beyond that...

He knew very little about her.

Their conversations over the years had never extended beyond polite greetings.

His eyes shifted, almost instinctively, toward where Anthony now stood speaking with her.

The two conversed naturally.

Comfortably.

It was hardly surprising.

After all, they lived beneath the same roof.

Anyone would become familiar under those circumstances.

Then...

His thoughts drifted back beneath the old oak tree.

He remembered the little frown between Vivienne’s brows.

The way she’d leaned ever so slightly forward, trying to hear a conversation that was far beyond earshot.

She hadn’t hidden her feelings very well.

If anything...

They had been written plainly across her face.

If I were Lady Beaumont...

I’d probably dislike seeing that too.

It was only natural.

Anthony was her fiancé.

Miss Sinclair was a beautiful young lady who happened to live at Ashford Manor.

Anyone in Vivienne’s position would probably find the sight uncomfortable.

And yet...

She hadn’t interrupted.

She hadn’t walked over.

She hadn’t demanded Anthony’s attention.

She had simply...

Waited.

Until she quietly decided not to disturb them.

Damian frowned thoughtfully.

Perhaps...

He should have been a little more considerate.

Calling Anthony across the field had probably embarrassed her far more than he’d intended.

The memory resurfaced almost immediately.

Vivienne burying her face behind both hands.

Then peeking at him through the tiniest gap between her fingers.

Trying so very hard to look indignant...

And failing completely.

A smile tugged at his lips once more.

Anthony noticed immediately.

"...You’re smiling again."

Damian blinked.

"Am I?"

"You’ve been smiling ever since you came back."

Had he?

He hadn’t even realized it.

"...Perhaps today’s simply started well."

Anthony gave him a skeptical look.

"I don’t even want to know."

The instructor’s whistle cut cleanly across the polo grounds.

"Everyone!"

"Mount up!"

The easy conversation came to an end.

Anthony reached for his mallet.

Evelyn mounted smoothly, guiding Storm toward the practice line.

Damian swung effortlessly into the saddle.

Separated by nothing more than a white wooden fence...

Two different lessons began at the same time.

On one side, experienced polo players urged their horses into motion with practiced confidence.

On the other...

A certain blonde beginner was almost certainly trying to convince Maple that cooperation was a perfectly reasonable idea.

The thought made Damian smile again.

...Perhaps I owe her an apology.

He adjusted the reins.

After today’s lesson, maybe.

With that, he guided his horse onto the field as the morning practice finally began.

--

TBC