“Dragon!”they all shouted in unison.
His Grace thrust his fingers into the vessel, and then retrieved a raisin.He devoured it, looking smug and handsome and a bit more dashing than usual.His eyes gleamed in the blue light of the burning bowl.
He washed his raisin down with a long draw from a nearby snifter, and when he smiled down at her, Aurelia saw that his lips were brandy-glazed.It took all her ladylike fortitude—and his as a gentleman, she suspected—not to press their mouths together.
“Congratulations, Your Grace,” she said, blushing.Surely, the heat of the fire and the strength of the brandy had gone to her head.She felt flushed and giddy all over.The point where their hands touched suddenly scalded her.“Congratulations, Selwyn.”
“Thank you, Aurelia,” he said, softly but surely, as there could be no doubt about his feelings for her.He did not release her hand even though the parlour game had reached its end.
The group tucked into the remaining refreshments and drank heartily from their various glasses.Laughter and conversation swelled around the drawing room as the fire from the snap-dragon bowl began to wane.
Lady Fanetta wobbled her way to the sofa, having imbibed two gulps of champagne too many.She was pink-cheeked and dizzy, and sank down onto the cushions in a flutter of velvet skirts, petticoats, and pretty flounced hems.
“No more,” laughed Fannie, draping her hand over her eyes, “or I shall be too tipsy to open presents!”
Together with Aurelia, the Duke of Brantingham led his family toward the Christmas tree.“She’s right.We had better exchange our gifts whilst we’re still on our feet.”He surveyed the packages wrapped in colorful paper, tied with ribbons, and adorned with bows, which had been placed beneath the boughs.“Now, who’d like to do the honors?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They sat in the warmth of the carved marble chimneypiece.His aunts perched upon overstuffed, embroidered armchairs near the hearth.Uncle Bertrand stretched out upon the fender, looking every inch the indolent nobleman.In many ways, he reminded Selwyn of Mama, who was very much missed tonight.
The younger members of his family sprawled across the carpet in the shadow of the Christmas tree, while Colonel and Anne MacFane claimed the sofa.Miss Goldsworthy joined him on the floor, pillowed against a heap of fancy fringed cushions that were soen voguewhen his mother had last redecorated Brantingham House.
Selwyn draped his arm across her bare shoulders.Although he was a gentleman, he wasn’t immune to the petal-soft skin of a fair young lady or the sweet scent of her perfume.He brushed a coppery curl, marveling at its bounce and gloss between his fingertips.
He had never loved a woman before, yet Miss Goldsworthy had lain claim to his heart from the moment he clapped eyes on her, this brave girl who’d come to London to get everything she’d wanted.He marveled that she wantedhim,when he was just a man, hardworking and traditional compared to his more brilliant, less conventional relations.
Surely, Sewlyn paled in her light, yet he felt elevated and radiant by her side.All the love in the world burned in his heartfor her.
As always, everyone received a Christmas gift.He watched with joy as his siblings tore open the parcels he’d purchased for them personally—an ivory parasol for Margie, a diamanté brooch for Fannie, and a pair of red Morocco slippers for Perry.
They had all pitched in to buy Selwyn a fine, silver filigree card case from Aspreys.He held it up and examined it appreciatively.It was a thoughtful gift, and he thanked them wholeheartedly, explaining, “My old one had taken some knocks.”
Emerging from his year of mourning, it was time he returned to society, and a new card case in his coat pocket would facilitate the fresh start he needed.
Perry searched beneath the tree, sorting through discarded wrapping paper and lengths of ribbon until he found one final gift.
“This is for…” the lad squinted to read the label through brandy-goggled eyes, “Aurelia.”He offered the present to her.“Happy Christmas!”
“From all of us,” Margie added merrily.“We snuck off to buy you something that afternoon in Bond Street whilst Selly had your head turned.”
Aurelia blushed and laughed.She opened the packaging to reveal an exquisite cut-glass powder jar inlaid with lustrous mother-of-pearl.It dazzled in the firelight and gaslight and was a thoughtful gift from his family.“Thank you all!Oh, it’s lovely!”
Tears sparkled in her eyes.
Selwyn recalled the words she’d spoken when she first arrived,‘I have no family… No one has ever written to me or sent me a card except for you… You have been everything to me.’
Miss Goldsworthy had likely never received a gift, and certainly never one given in honesty and appreciation.His siblings adored her, and the rest of his family was fast growing fond of her.
He turned to whisper in her ear, letting his lips brush her temple as he spoke, “I have something special for you, but I’d like to give it to you privately, if you don’t mind waiting.”He pulled away to search her face, noting the high color on her freckled cheeks.
She’d given him the courage to confess the truth to her, to open his heart to her.Once he showed her everything, he hoped to offer his hand to her.He only prayed that she would understand him and accept him—and love him in return.
Selwyn rose and ventured toward the refreshment table, where he picked through the last of the gingerbread and allowed Dowell to serve him a well-deserved cup of tea.Most of his staff were downstairs enjoying a festive celebration of their own, and he hoped that his butler wasn’t missing out on too much merrymaking.
Yet, perhaps, the lesser staff were happier to have their fun away from the strict rule of the unflappable Dowell, forhehad certainly done his best to bedevil the man in his boyhood.
“Happy Christmas to you,” Selwyn told the fellow.“If you could begin to call the carriages ‘round, I’d be grateful.It looks like this evening is winding to a close.”
