Footmen offered glasses of champagne and ladled out mugs of smoking bishop from behind a buffet table topped with trays of mince pies,marrons glacés, fruits, cakes, and gingerbreads.Selwyn offered Miss Goldsworthy a glass.
He took one for himself, asking as he drank, “How are you finding our motley crew so far?”
She smiled at him over the rim of her champagne glass.“They’re wonderful, Your Grace.I can’t help but notice that, with the exception of the MacFanes, most of your kinfolk are unmarried.Why is that, do you think?”
“I suppose we believe in marrying for love rather than position.When one is born at the very pinnacle of society, one needn’t settle for anything other than happiness and self-fulfillment.My father didn’t force his sisters to marry, and I cannot in good conscience pressure Margie or Fannie to find husbands when they’ve a home here with me for as long as they wish.”
Her hazel eyes brightened.“So you’ll let Margie attend university?”
He smiled and winked.“’Tis the season for making everybody’s dreams come true—but don’t tell her just yet.I wish it to be a surprise.”
“My lips are sealed,” she said, crossing them with one slender fingertip.
“Not too sealed, I hope.”Selwyn bent to press a quick kiss to the side of her mouth, whispering into the soft shell of her ear, beneath the cascade of coppery curls that crowned her head, “Tonight, I want you to think ofyourdreams, Aurelia.Consider what you want out of life, irrespective of me or anyone else.I hold you in the highest esteem, you must know.You’re as welcome here as any Charlton, Beausire, or MacFane, and you needn’t ever settle for anything less than your heart’s desire.”
He hoped that he was that man.
He was a stalwart, broad-backed Yorkshireman.A reliable workhorse, an unwavering protector and provider.He was the Duke of Brantingham, a privileged and powerful gentleman descended from a long line of aristocratic warriors and valorous crusaders.Forher,he would fight.Forher,he would stand his ground against all manner of foes, even if he pulled down the walls of his noble house, shattering the foundations and bringing censure upon his head.
But for now, it was Christmas Eve, a night of jollity and revelry.Selwyn tossed back his glass of champagne and reached for Miss Goldsworthy’s hand.Together, they were swept into the celebration, enveloped in the bosom of his family as though they’d always belonged.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“The Christmas tree is especially lovely this year,” Anne MacFane commented.They basked in the golden glow of candles, the shimmer of tinsel, and the earthy scent of the evergreen boughs.
Aurelia sat on the nearby sofa, her back resting upon countless stuffed, embroidered pillows.She fondly recalled decorating the tree with the Charltons, and watching with awe as the Duke and Lord Peregrine had lifted Lady Fanetta on their shoulders to place the angel atop its peak.
She remembered her heartfelt exchange with His Grace behind the branches, out of sight and out of earshot of his siblings.‘My self-worth is neither dependent upon the man who sired me,’she had told him, ‘nor the man I marry.’
She’d believed that the Duke had meant to release her from his care.Now she understood thatbecausehe cared for her, he wished to release her from any misplaced obligation she may have felt toward him.
Half of his family was unwed and thriving.She suspected that his suave, handsome Uncle Bertrand Beausire had a long list of lovers and refused to change his wicked ways for anybody.His Grace’s was a family into which she would be welcomed regardless of her parentage or her eligibility as a duchess.
Aurelia breathed a sigh of relief, for despite all his nobility and dignity, the Duke of Brantingham came from a clan of rule-breakers.He wanted to make her dreams come true.
“We had an extra pair of hands,” Lady Margery Charlton explained, “for the tree trimming.Aurelia was so clever with her beadwork, and I was grateful for her competence when Selly left everything till the very last minute—as usual.”
His Grace snagged a candy cane from a branch and seated himself on the sofa beside her.He slipped the minty, striped stick of sugar between his upturned lips.“Ihadto leave it to the last minute, as I’m a busy man with a mountain of correspondence and estate business monopolizing my attention.”He turned his gaze to Aurelia as he toyed with the candy cane in his mouth.“If I didn’t work straight through the week, I could never take the time away to indulge myself.”
She nodded sagely.“All life is a compromise, Your Grace.A delicate balance of give and take, duty and fun.”
At Cheltenham, her days had been filled with lessons in etiquette and deportment, studies of maths, arts, and sport.Her nights had been reserved for thoughts of him and plans for their future together.
“My sentiments exactly,” said he, softly.His portentous words sent a shiver of anticipation up her spine.“I shall gladly handle the duty if you’re willing to share in the fun.”
Yesterday, she had seen his small, chilly office and admired his work ethic as he sat behind the serviceable desk from which he conducted his ducal business.She wondered how he spent his nights, and whether he’d spared a private thought for her since she’d entered into his world.
Only Fannie was oblivious to the scene taking place around her.The younger Charlton sister lived for the delights of life—fashion, feasting, frivolity, and festivity.She was forever pulling her siblings into shopfronts, encouraging them to attend the switching on of electric lamps, and goading them into never taking themselves too seriously.
“We ought to play a parlour game like we used to do,” she said to the gathered group.“I challenge you lot to a game of Snap-dragon!”
A cheer arose from the family, especially the younger cousins, the Lords Kexby and Rudston, who seemed like fun-loving fellows, and from Perry, who she suspected suffered from a case of hero worship, as he relished having two gregarious Oxford students take him under their wings.
The Duke of Brantingham signaled to his butler, who stood stoically at attention beside the bowl of smoking bishop.“Dowell, will you be so good as to fetch the Snap-dragon bowl and all the various accoutrements?”
The man bowed.“Very well, Your Grace,” he said, and set about his task.
In time, a section of the refreshments table was cleared and a wide, shallow vessel—a repurposed fruit bowl, she supposed—was placed upon its gleaming wooden surface.The family rose from their seats as the Duke’s butler emptied a decanter of very old, very good brandy into it.They congregated at the table, commenting on the bounty of brandy-soaked raisins lining the bottom of the bowl.There would be plenty of chances for everyone to test their mettle against the flames.
