She was saved from having to respond by a bump on her leg. She steadied little Francis Malloren, who seemed intent on Lady Calliope’s chair. He toddled on and arrived at the old lady’s blanketed knees.
“G’day,” he said, beaming, with no hint of shyness.
A flustered maid rushed after. “I’m so sorry, milady! This is Master Francis Malloren, milady.”
Genova braced to deal with harshness, but Lady Calliope looked the boy in the eye. “And what attracts you to an old crone, Master Francis Malloren, when there are mince pies and sugarplums to be had?”
The boy patted her lap. “Up!”
A chuckle rumbled. “A Malloren through and through. Lift him up then, girl, and we’ll tour this mayhem together. Off you go, Genova, and enjoy yourself. But take care.”
Thalia linked arms with Genova. “Do let’s help with the mistletoe, dear!”
Genova might have tried to slip to the edges of the room—another sort of edge—but Thalia headed straight for the middle, where the ladies were making bundles of greenery to place around the hall. Genova noted that they were tying it up with new ribbons, so frugality had lost that battle. But then, that had only been a pretext.
During that chat with Portia, she’d been informed that the Mallorens were ordinary people beneath the glitter, but that Lord Rothgar was ruthless in protecting them and their interests. Why informher, however? Did they overestimate her influence to that extent?
No longer. She’d told Portia the truth about the engagement. Thank heavens for that. She would not be a pawn in this game.
“Perhaps I might even get a kiss,” Thalia said, looking up at a huge bouquet of mistletoe that had just been hung from the central chandelier, low enough for the gentlemen to pluck the berries. “I’m sure Richard wouldn’t mind.”
Genova steered Thalia under there, looking for a suitable gentleman. Her eyes fixed on Ash because she caught him looking at her. Her heart skipped a beat, with no conscious control at all.
After a still moment, she mimed her request.
He looked puzzled, but then came toward them, smiling. He still wore the plain riding clothes in which she’d first seen him, but he was all beau, all courtier, as he bowed. He could have been in powder, satin, and lace.
“Why, Thalia, if you don’t want to be thoroughly kissed, this is most careless of you.”
Thalia laughed with delight. “You naughty boy, but I am caught, indeed I am!”
She presented a cheek, but he swept her into his arms and planted a kiss solidly on her lips. She emerged with high color that was entirely natural, andwith a beaming smile that was brighter than any Genova had seen on her.
She feared her own smile was as wide. No matter what his faults, the Marquess of Ashart could be exceedingly kind.
As he plucked a berry from the bunch, Thalia said, “What a charming rascal you are, Ashart!” But then she tugged Genova under the branch. “And here is your reward.”
Genova could hardly resist. They were the center of all eyes, including the Oliphants’. She wanted to refuse, though. Mistletoe kisses seemed sour when put against her confused but profound feelings.
He took her hand, but only to pull her away from the bough. “A man needs no excuse to kiss his future bride, Thalia, so I’ll preserve the berries for less fortunate gentlemen.”
A buzz said some had not heard the news. People nearby congratulated them, wishing them well, but Genova saw much astonishment. She hoped her blushes were taken for maidenly delight and was grateful when Ash drew her away from the hub.
“I hate this,” she said.
“Do you want to break it off now? It’s too early, but we can cope.”
He was serious. She shook her head. “As you say, it’s too early. We might as well play the game to its end. This feels like a lie, though. I don’t like to lie.”
He took her hand. “Then consider us betrothed for a little while. I certainly haven’t promised anyone here that I’ll actually marry you. Have you sworn to marry me?”
He was making her smile. “No.”
“You see. All is easy.”
Easy? Hardly, but good humor made it easier to express her thoughts. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It was unfair.”
“No, it wasn’t. I should have realized what your experiences might have been. You awe me.”
