It was a childish game, really. The girls ran and hid in the woods after dark, the boys chasing after them in hot pursuit. Is this what young wealthy people got up to after too much champagne? Harrison downed the dark, amber liquid in his glass, heat burning through his chest. How could his lovely Maggie play with them? Had she clawed her way up from the slums of Dublin to play kissing games with simpering youths?
The Beaumont boy brought her a champagne flute, no longer trying to hide the lust in his expression. But who could blame him? She was exquisite in a gown of yellow silk, poised and graceful, her cheerful confidence clouded with a hint of sorrow. She sipped her champagne as he prattled on, turning when another fool gripped her above the elbow. Beaumont seized the opportunity to gawk at her cleavage.
Harrison set the glass on a passing servant's tray before slipping away from the party into the woods to hide. He was far too old for such a game, but he would not suffer the thought of Maggie being nabbed, then held down and kissed by the likes of Beaumont or any of these other fops.
Twigs snapped beneath his feet as he fumbled through the woods, stopping to lean against a rough-barked tree. Pale light spilled out from the ballroom where the gang of tipsy youths chattered loudly on a veranda. Elizabeth Beckett, a sly, coquettish girl of twenty hooked her arm around Maggie's, drawing her down a short flight of stairs onto the lawn.
Harrison cursed under his breath. Betty Beckett could have been his ally. Selfish machinations danced along with a flicker of light in her dark eyes. It was no secret she wanted Beaumont all to herself.
A tomcat yowled somewhere off in the distance, making him jump. He loosened the collar of his shirt, the night air hot and humid. What was it about the summer that made the earth's creatures burn with lust? The wails of spring babies were often the result of long days and warm nights. If he spilled his seed into Maggie, would it take root? His cock strained against his breeches at the thought of her belly swollen and round with his child.
Laughter broke out among the eager youths when Mr. Philip Foxworth, heir to that lavish estate, stepped out of his parents' party with a hunting horn he'd dug out of his father's study.
Harrison leaned against a tree for support when the horn's sharp blast pierced the night, the young women tearing toward the tree line with shrieks and bursts of giggling. Bright-eyed playfulness lit up Maggie's lovely features, making her look so young and pure. Harrison had never seen her look so happy. What would she do when he caught her? What would he do? The whiskey in his blood made him bold. He maneuvered over roots and brambles, hiding between two trees as young women hurried past, a few stopping to glance over their shoulders at their would-be lovers. Maggie and Betty crashed into the woods, Betty leaning against a tree, already out of breath. They were close enough for him to touch.
Maggie put her hand on Betty's arm. "Come on."
"We don't want to go too far. No one will find us that way," said Betty.
"But that's how you play," said Maggie, her silvery voice like a siren's song.
Damn that Betty Beckett. If not for her, Harrison would grab Maggie and drag her off into the darkness.
Betty scoffed. "This is a kissing game. You won't get to do any kissing if no one can find you."
Maggie led her friend deeper into the woods. "Well, let's at least make them work for it."
Betty cackled. "You tease. No wonder all the men are mad for you."
They stumbled away, snickering and whispering to each other. Harrison waited until all he could see was a flash of yellow silk before slipping out after them.
Raucous shouting followed another blast of the horn as the hunting party sprinted toward the woods. Young men whooped and shouted as Harrison knelt behind a nettle bush, undetected by his fellow hunters. He could just make out the girls hiding behind a massive ash tree.
A short, stocky man stopped to his left. It was tempting to pull Martin Healy aside and lead him to the girls as the naval captain had been after Betty for years, but if these wild, randy youths were too young to be playing this game, then it would be an utter embarrassment for Harrison to be caught chasing young women through the woods. Healy moved along, away from the lovely Betty.
Just as Harrison was about to stand, someone tripped behind him, swearing loudly.
"Come on, Foxy, old boy. Stand up." Beaumont stopped to help his friend to his feet.
Foxworth laughed, his obnoxious braying grating Harrison's nerves. "Where did our little fawns run off to? Why do they have to make it so hard?"
"Do you think Maggie was able to get away from Betty?" asked Beaumont. "Why do the girls pair up?"
Foxworth laughed again. "You mean like we're paired up? I like to think the actress and Betty are out there kissing each other. God, wouldn't that be a sight to stumble upon."
Harrison fought the urge to wring Foxworth by the neck.
"What are you talking about?" snapped Beaumont. He grabbed Foxworth by the sleeve and dragged him off.
Harrison slipped away without a sound.
Maggie and Betty leaned against the tree trunk, whispering when a loud crash to their left made them jump. Harrison stopped dead in his tracks. Sloppy, smacking kisses filled the air with desperate tension.
"Who is that?" whispered Betty, the moonlight peeking through the tree canopy illuminating the wicked delight on her face.
Maggie's whisper was anxious. "Come on, let's give them some privacy." They hurried off in the same direction as Beaumont and Foxworth.
The two young men groping and grinding against each other were too busy to notice Harrison hurrying after the girls. There was no way he could grab Maggie without Betty seeing him. He would have to separate them. But how?
Betty gasped. "I'm caught! Oh, what's got me?"
"Hold still, it's just nettles. The hem of your gown is snagged," said Maggie, kneeling to untangle her friend.
Betty laughed with relief. "Oh, my. I thought some ghost had grabbed me to drag me off to a grisly death."
"Foxy!"
