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Anthony's hand on her thigh was a familiar touch now, but one that still sent a thrill through her and worse of all he knew it. He looked up at her from his knees on the carriage floor, and sent his hand further down and down her leg to her ankle where he pushed up her skirts and she almost forgot what they had been discussing.
Almost.
"Did you truly lose 40 pounds at cribbage*?" she asked.
Anthony huffed at the reminder, his teasing smile turning sour at the reminder. "42 pounds and 18 shillings, my dear, why ever do you ask?"
Why was she asking when he could be using his lovely mouth for other things?
Well, few people could get under Anthony's skin in a way that was entirely amusing. And ever since he had returned from the Mondrich club just a few days ago, she had been highly amused. He soured at any mention of the club, cribbage (he'd thrown bunched up paper at Benedict for talking about it in his office) and the usual fondness in his smile when talking about his eccentric friend Baron Stafford was twisted with something much more sardonic of late.
"But I shall lose no more today," Anthony assured her, patting her knee. "Put all your worries aside."
"Oh, I am not worried. I know my husband is no gambler. But I find myself curious nonetheless. If you were truly annoyed by it, you wouldn't invite him today for the hunt."
Anthony groaned and sat back back on his seat. "He might look like a lost little lamb and I took pity at first, but in truth he is the devil is disguise. Worse than Eloise in Pall Mall. Delighting in our defeat, I tell you."
Hm. This young man, this… Theodore, was it? Sounded light a delightful new friend.
"I only wish to find delight in you, my darling," Anthony said, approaching once more. "Will you allow me?"
Oh, but he was so fun to tease.
"But the poor carriage driver," she said, lifting her skirts and watching her husband eagerly sit beside her.
"I will cover your lips with mine, so only I may hear you."
She ran her fingers along his arm. "But you must be so tired…"
"I am never tired of you," he said, so sincerely she was distracted from her little game and just had to kiss him, until his delightful hand was beneath her skirts and exploring in just the way she liked. Anthony, as always, stayed true to his promise. He captured each noise from her lips with his own, until they could make no more as they had sadly arrived on time to the Duke's hunting grounds.
"I want you all to myself," he muttered, as they walked towards the rest of the hunting party. "Damn them all."
"You must help me celebrate my victory later," she told him. "I shall deliver our prey."
"I shall worship at the altar of Artemis most devotedly. Ardently." he promised, his low voice sending the most vexing ache through her. "Until you beg me to stop."
Any other time, she would have teased him. She would have argued that she did not beg. But, looking at the hunting party of gentlemen who were far too amused at her attendance, sweet Eloise who was so excited to be included, and the approaching Baron Stafford and his new heir, the ache solidified to absolute determination.
"I shall crush them," she swore. "And then you will not have your fill until I tell you so."
It was a good thing they were within sight of the others. If they were alone, she would have had him again on the forest floor simply for the way he looked at her then, desperate and aching as she felt.
In her mind, she could admit separating herself from her husband for the hunt was not only a strategic move, not only to bond with her new sister Eloise, but also one for the sake of her sanity as she could take little more teasing before she abandoned all propriety.
However, the Baron's son proved an amusing distraction from her thoughts. The young man held a rifle like he'd never seen one before and looked at Eloise like he'd never seen a young woman before, stealing glances and sharing smiles as often as a clock ticked and louder than it chimed.
She escorted them to a clearing, intent on finding tracks, but found her eyes torn to watching the two instead.
While Eloise did an admirable job of teaching the boy to shoot, Kate watched the back of his ears turn red and shoulders tense each time Eloise grew closer.
He missed two shots.
Hm.
"I'm sure you have other talents. I've yet to see any of them, though," Eloise joked.
"I'm most skilled in making you laugh, it appears. But I think I could become better at it, should you allow me enough time," he parried.
"Oh, how much time would you need?"
"A lifetime, if you'd allow it."
Hm?
He fired and managed to shoot the tree.
Hm, indeed. Whether it be this season or the last, she had never seen Eloise so engaged in conversation with a gentleman let alone utterly delighted, laughing and smiling in a way she had yet to see this season (she suspected the lack of Miss Featherington was to blame).
Eloise then decided to show him again how to shoot, this time helping him take aim from his side, standing on her toes to each a hand to his shoulder. Even watching his back, she could tell the boy was overcome. Eloise said something in his poor ear and he pulled the trigger, shooting far wide of the tree they'd made a target.
She should take pity. But she did so enjoy watching boys struggle. What a dilemma.
"I think we should go back," he said, turning around and seeking eye contact with her which she (strategically, gracefully, somewhat cruelly) avoided.
Eventually, however, Eloise was persuaded to return and join the rest of the party. The hunt could properly begin, then, she could bask in her soon to be victory. Preferably in bed.
Eloise wanted to make a bet.
"Bet we shall find and catch our prey first," her sister whispered. "As we shall. It will be a sweet trophy for our triumph."
Kate smirked.
"What shall we bet?" Lord Wetherby asked. "I doubt two of you could beat all of us. Ah, my apologies my friend, three if we count the complete beginner."
"A beginner I might be, but a fool I am not. I know a winning bet when I see one," the boy said. "Which, may I remind you, my good friend, you most certainly do not."
She watched her husband's face sour at the reminder. Oh, she was starting to quite like the boy, wasn't she?
Eloise again whispered in her ear, making a delightful suggestion she could not resist.
"If we win, then all of you eligible bachelors shall send flowers to a woman of our choosing," Kate said.
"What of my vows, woman?!" the Viscount said, half laughing off his horse and half outraged at her suggestion. "Imagine what people will say. Whistledown will be richer than the King with that sort of issue."
Yes, if her husband delivered flowers to an unmarried woman… Well. All the flowers in England would wilt from her rage.
"I did say eligible bachelors, dear. You should really listen to me more," she teased.
"How can I listen when you are far too distracting," the Viscount said, toying with her. "Well, gentlemen? What say you?"
The gentlemen agreed. Eloise let out a relieved breath and gripped her reins tightly. It seemed her most rebellious sister had a plan up her sleeves—she couldn't wait to see it play out.
"You shall choose," Kate told her, voice lower than the breeze. "Winning the hunt today is enough victory for me."
She already had a prize waiting, besides.
"Thank you," Eloise said, grinning at her.
However, her attention drifted once more to the young man in their company who (she could admit) was decent on horseback but clomped across the forest floor without a sense of grace, but at least it came from inexperience rather than willful ignorance. He did, at least, accept the job of lookout (which they all knew they did not require, with the tracks they had found) with more grace than she'd expected.
She did in fact win the hunt. And the victory was even sweeter as it was shared with her darling sister, whose shot at the deer's leg meant their prey could not escape. The deer dropped to the floor.
It had been a quick hunt, which usually she would not be best pleased by. Now, however, she only had to suffer through dinner before she was finally back in the carriage with her husband.
Eloise waved her arms, calling over the boy she was growing to like, until she said, "Did you see, Theo? Did you see?"
"I did," he said. "You did brilliantly. I do believe I have witnessed Atalanta and Artemis** hunting on this day—"
Kate blinked. Hadn't Anthony—
Ah. There it was, then. The boy continued to speak, and Eloise continued to smile, and suddenly rather than pitying him she rather pitied her sister who had yet to realise the depths of it all. It was much like stepping into a lake. It looks shallow, until you take another step, and you begin to sink far deeper than you first thought.
She dismissed the boy, giving him an actual job this time of sending word to the house so Daphne could arrange the rest. Thankfully, he went without protest.
Eloise looked confused, as though she had no idea of what she had done.
"I do not mean to scold you, but you called him by his first name," Kate said. "Is there something I need to know?"
She suspected she already knew part of it.
"I don't know what you mean," Eloise denied, shifting her gaze to the forest floor. Ah. Guilt.
"Come now, Eloise. You are no fool."
"…We are friends. That is all." Eloise sighed. "Think nothing of it. I am usually more careful, I swear."
"You cannot afford another slip. I say this to you out of care. Anthony and I will always support you, we love you dearly, but the ton is not kind. If you are simply friends, then I will think nothing of it. But the way that boy looks at you, I doubt that to be the case."
She looked back at the boy, whose horse was retreating in a slow but steady trot. He was difficult to dislike, she knew that well enough now, but found herself worried all the same. Eloise was older than Edwina, and much more cynical too, a good head on her shoulders but a sadness that weighed them down this season that no amount of Benedict's charms and jokes seemed to shake.
"Th—Mr Stafford doesn't look at me. We are friends. Besides, there is much happening this season. I am not looking for marriage. You know my thoughts on it already," Eloise assured her.
Eloise turned to leave.
"I wasn't looking either, really," she muttered to herself.
Eloise had denied it all, but she had no doubt the potential was there. After all, what was more captivating than a man who saw you as a delight and his downfall, one to worship and one to argue with, one to share the ups as well as the downs? One that saw you as an equal.
Eloise denied it all, but still she watched until Anthony's hand wandered beneath the dining table. At his touch, she accidentally dropped a napkin to the floor and glared at his smug smile.
When she went to pick it up, delighting in her husband's sharp in take of breath as her hand gripped his thigh, she almost laughed. And there, hidden from view, one heeled shoe overlapped a buckled boot. She had caught her prey, indeed.
When, finally, they returned to the house and hours passed, and her husband held her in his arms until he could hold out on sleep no longer, Kate began to plot.