The Bridgertons Happily Ever After by Julia Quinn Read Free Book Online Page A

coming down the hill,” Kate replied.
    He looked up to see Edwina Bagwell, Kate’s younger sister, trudging down the slope. She’d never been much for outdoor pursuits, and he could well imagine her sighing and rolling her eyes.
    “Pink for me this year,” Daphne declared, plucking one of the remaining mallets from the stack. “I am feeling feminine and delicate.” She gave her brothers an arch look. “Deceptively so.”
    Simon reached behind her and selected the yellow mallet. “Blue for Edwina, of course.”
    “Edwina always gets blue,” Kate said to Penelope.
    “Why?”
    Kate paused. “I don’t know.”
    “What about purple?” Penelope asked.
    “Oh, we never use that .”
    “Why?”
    Kate paused again. “I don’t know.”
    “Tradition,” Anthony put in.
    “Then why do the rest of you switch colors every year?” Penelope persisted.
    Anthony turned to his brother. “Does she always ask so many questions?”
    “Always.”
    He turned back to Penelope and said, “We like it this way.”
    “I’m here!” Edwina called out cheerfully as she approached the rest of the players. “Oh, blue again. How thoughtful.” She picked up her equipment, then turned to Anthony. “Shall we play?”
    He gave a nod, then turned to Simon. “You’re first, Hastings.”
    “As always,” he murmured, and he dropped his ball into the starting position. “Stand back,” he warned, even though no one was within swinging distance. He drew his mallet back and then brought it forward with a magnificent crack. The ball went sailing across the lawn, straight and true, landing mere yards from the next wicket.
    “Oh, well-done!” Penelope cheered, clapping her hands.
    “I said no cheering,” Anthony grumbled. Couldn’t anyone follow instructions these days?
    “Even for Simon?” Penelope returned. “I thought it was just Colin.”
    Anthony set his ball down carefully. “It’s distracting.”
    “As if the rest of us aren’t distracting,” Colin commented. “Cheer away, darling.”
    But she held silent as Anthony took aim. His swing was even more powerful than the duke’s, and his ball rolled even farther.
    “Hmmm, bad luck there,” Kate said.
    Anthony turned on her suspiciously. “What do you mean? It was a brilliant swing.”
    “Well, yes, but—”
    “Out of my way,” Colin ordered, marching to the starting position.
    Anthony locked eyes with his wife. “What do you mean ?”
    “Nothing,” she said offhandedly, “just that it’s a trifle muddy right there.”
    “Muddy?” Anthony looked toward his ball, then back to his wife, then back to the ball. “It hasn’t rained for days.”
    “Hmmm, no.”
    He looked back to his wife. His maddening, diabolical, and soon-to-be-locked-in-a-dungeon wife. “How did it get muddy?”
    “Well, perhaps not muddy . . .”
    “Not muddy,” he repeated, with far more patience than she deserved.
    “Puddle-ish might be more appropriate.”
    Words failed him.
    “Puddly?” She scrunched her face a touch. “How does one make an adjective out of a puddle?”
    He took a step in her direction. She darted behind Daphne.
    “What is happening?” Daphne asked, twisting about.
    Kate poked her head out and smiled triumphantly. “I do believe he’s going to kill me.”
    “With so many witnesses?” Simon asked.
    “How,” Anthony demanded, “did a puddle form in the midst of the driest spring of my recollection?”
    Kate shot him another one of her annoying grins. “I spilled my tea.”
    “An entire puddle’s worth?”
    She shrugged. “I was cold.”
    “Cold.”
    “And thirsty.”
    “And apparently clumsy, as well,” Simon put in.
    Anthony glared at him.
    “Well, if you are going to kill her,” Simon said, “would you mind waiting until my wife is out from between you?” He turned to Kate. “How did you know where to put the puddle?”
    “He’s very predictable,” she replied.
    Anthony stretched out his fingers and measured her throat.
    “Every