Katerina's Secret by Mary Jane Staples Page B

smoothly and leaving the red and white generously positioned for her opponent to open his account with a cannon. He bent stiffly to the task of consolidation, but lost himself with some uncertain cue work when his score was ten. Edward sensed he was a bundle of nerves. Poor old devil, there he was, a retired bachelor with a distinguished war record, andas sensitive as a wallflower in the presence of the composed Rosamund. Perhaps he had been glad to hide himself away from women in the Brandenburg Grenadiers. Up against an English war widow in a game of billiards, he was flushed and awkward, but full of glances.
    Rosamund was obviously aware of it. From a civil, polite and distant attitude, she had advanced to the attack. She moved handsomely around the table, her green gown clasping her figure, and Edward saw that the colonel hardly knew where to look as, bending over her cue, she displayed the deep valley of a most noble bosom. And she was no mean exponent of the game, specializing in dropping her ball in-off the red with smooth efficiency. And from time to time both balls disappeared into the corner pockets.
    â€˜Well played, madam.’ The colonel made the comment a little hoarsely as her score reached fifty, while his was only twenty-nine. Rosamund, finishing her break, left him well positioned. He gathered himself together and set about redeeming himself. Edward watched with glimmers of pleasure in his eyes. Rosamund was quite the coolest of women, the handsome colonel tugging at his moustache between shots.
    The scores advanced. When Rosamund was eighty-one, her opponent was seventy-two. She approached the table, bent over her cue, causing the colonel to hastily lift his eyes elsewhere, and smoothly proceeded to reel off six in-offs in succession. That put her score on ninety-nine.
    Now what? thought Edward. Is she going to demoralize him?
    She missed her next shot.
    â€˜Good gracious,’ she said.
    â€˜Bad luck,’ said Edward. She glanced at him and caught the smile on his face.
    â€˜It’s hardly a matter for levity, Edward,’ she said.
    â€˜I agree. There’s thunder and lightning in the air.’
    â€˜Thunder and lightning?’ said Rosamund. ‘It’s only a game of billiards.’ She caught the colonel’s eye. He was waiting politely for the conversation to finish. ‘Pray proceed, sir,’ she said.
    â€˜Thank you,’ said Colonel Brecht. He ran up a break of twenty-one, bringing his total to ninety-three. But Rosamund only needed to score to win the game. The red ball was nicely placed for her to execute one of her fluent in-offs. Much to Edward’s amusement,she elected to go for a cannon instead, a much more difficult shot. She played it well, however. Her ball struck the white firmly, and with topspin applied glided on, narrowly passing the red.
    â€˜Well played,’ said Colonel Brecht, ‘and thank you, madam, for an excellent game.’
    â€˜No, I missed the cannon,’ said Rosamund.
    She could, thought Edward, have easily pocketed her ball off the red. She might have got the cannon. Instead, she had missed it with beautiful finesse. Damn me, he thought, if she isn’t going to let him beat her.
    â€˜Your ball just stroked the red,’ said the colonel.
    â€˜No, no,’ said Rosamund, ‘it missed.’
    â€˜I’m happy to concede the cannon,’ he murmured.
    â€˜We’ll refer to Mr Somers,’ said Rosamund. ‘Edward, was it a cannon or not?’
    Edward, frankly keen to see how they would resolve it themselves, said, ‘It may have been, it may not have been. It was all too much of a whisker for me, and I declare myself undecided.’
    â€˜Very well,’ said Rosamund smoothly, ‘I claim a miss. It’s your shot, Colonel Beck.’
    â€˜Ah – I – ’
    â€˜Please proceed,’ said Rosamund.
    The colonel gave in and with the balls nicely set up rattled off three