Knowing that playing croquet in groups was as much about arguing line and tactics, and that such a game never progressed quickly but rather with long pauses for evaluation and dissection, Sebastian saw the perfect opportunity for speaking privately with Ennis looming.
Although he had to wait for more than an hour, eventually, he and Ennis were playing against each other, with Hadley as the third of their group. Hadley had proved a past master at taking forever to line up his shots. That left Sebastian and Ennis standing to one side of the green, watching.
Sebastian waited until they were at one end of the oval-shaped course. After taking his shot, he walked to the edge of the clipped expanse to allow Hadley to essay his. Sebastian halted alongside Ennis—who shifted as if to move away, but then, as if realizing how that would appear, settled again.
“Indeed,” Sebastian murmured, his gaze on Hadley. “I am most assuredly the last man you would want to see.”
He turned his head and met Ennis’s widening eyes.
“You?” Ennis looked stunned.
Sebastian nodded and looked away. “Winchelsea is a good friend.” He paused, then went on, “I feel I should apologize for his inappropriate sense of humor. It was his idea to label me thus, but I realize, in the circumstances, the words might have led you to suppose his stand-in was someone else.”
“Just so.” Ennis sounded aggrieved.
Sebastian glanced sharply at him. “You haven’t spoken of this to anyone else by mistake?”
“No—no.” Ennis put a hand to his neckcloth as if it was suddenly too tight. “Look here—I can’t talk to you here. What I have to tell Winchelsea is too…complicated to be conveyed in a few words.”
His gaze once more on Hadley’s antics, Sebastian slowly nodded. “Very well. When and where?”
“Tonight. In my study.” Ennis paused, then added, “I’ll meet you there at ten o’clock.”
“Yes.” Sebastian raised his voice. “Look at that—straight through both hoops!” Walking to Hadley, Sebastian clapped him on the shoulder, then glanced at Ennis. “Your turn.”
They continued their game. Sebastian estimated his exchange with Ennis had taken no more than two minutes. If, as Ennis’s nervousness suggested, someone of the company was connected with the plot Ennis intended to expose, even if that person had been watching them, there was no reason they would have imagined he and Ennis had discussed anything more enthralling than Hadley’s game.
The tournament eventually concluded, with Worthington declared the outright winner, with Hadley in second place.
The younger ladies returned from the folly, and Cecilia, Mrs. Parrish, and Mrs. McGibbin returned from their exploration of the rose garden just as Blanchard appeared on the rear terrace to strike the gong summoning the party to luncheon.
Antonia appeared by Sebastian’s side and boldly wound her arm with his.
He wasn’t entirely certain he approved of the bolder, wilder side of her—certainly not when she allowed it out in public.
“So have you managed to corner Ennis?” Her words floated to him on a whisper.
“Yes.” The others had started across the lawn to the terrace. He and she fell in at the rear of the company. He dipped his head and murmured, “He elected to meet at ten o’clock tonight in his study. He’s definitely nervous of someone here.”
“Hmm…if he is, that suggests that someone must have some sort of connection with whatever group Ennis intends to inform against—doesn’t it?”
“So one would infer.” He paused, then said, “While we’re whiling away the day waiting for this meeting, we should see what more we can learn about the other Anglo-Irish here.”
She nodded. “You’ll be largely restricted to the men. I’ll see what I can extract from the women.”
They joined the other guests in the dining room. As the seating at breakfast and luncheon was informal, and they were the last to reach the table, they perforce had to take the two remaining seats—the pair in the middle of the table on either side. That left Sebastian to entertain Miss Bilhurst and Miss Boyne, while Antonia was left to the dubious delights of Worthington—still crowing about his croquet win—on one side and Wilson on the other.
As it happened, that suited Sebastian and Antonia; they diligently applied themselves to their joint undertaking, and the meal passed off more quickly and satisfactorily than either had expected.
When the company rose, Antonia left Sebastian to his own devices and concentrated on cultivating Mrs. McGibbin, who was as Irish as her husband, unlike Mrs. Parrish, who was English through and through.