Remaining close to the tree, silently wishing that no one would approach to claim a space on it. Alas, it seemed I had unwittingly attracted the attention of nearly every gentleman present as they formed a line, each awaiting his turn. Blasted red dress, I thought as I smiled my most charming smile at each one.
Thankfully there was a set number of dances on the card, or I might have been dancing into the wee hours of the morning.
The first to claim a spot was a tall, well-dressed man of my age, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. Although he was quite handsome, any charm he held quickly vanished as he spoke solely of himself, showing no interest in learning anything about me. The following partner was a shorter man in his thirties, not the most striking figure at the ball, but his humor proved infectious. I quite enjoyed myself, yet he was not someone I could see myself wedding.
The succession of suitors that followed presented a variety of shortcomings. Some were too old, too handsome, not handsome enough, not of high enough intelligence, or they simply carried an air of arrogance that I could not bear. It became increasingly apparent that none of these men would make a suitable match, leaving me with the realization that I might disappoint both my grandmother and mother with my lack of interest in any of these prospective suitors. I had left the last space on my card empty just incase I found someone of interest during the night, but that moment seemed less likely, now the night was coming to an end.
Seeking refuge by the grand tree once again, I gave my weary feet a much-needed break and tried to evade any potential suitors asking for a final dance. Tucking myself at the back edge of the tree, I marveled at the glass baubles suspended from the evergreen boughs. Among them, one in particular caught my eye—a deep blue reminiscent of the sky’s color as day melded into night. In striking contrast, delicate foxes were painted in bright white, their forms outlined in gold. Tiny red holly berries nestled within clusters of leaves adorned the scene around the foxes. Enchanted, I couldn’t resist reaching up to touch the beautifully crafted ornament.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”a man’s voice said, startling me as I pulled my hand back down to my side.
To my surprise, the duke stood beside me, a kind smile on his face that reassured me there was nothing to fear. Nevertheless, a flush of embarrassment colored my cheeks at being caught in the act of reaching out to touch one of his expensive ornaments.
“It is very beautiful,”I told him, stepping back from the tree and giving him a curtsy.
“Did you notice that each one has a different kind of animal on it?”he said, taking one down off the tree and turning it in his hands.“This one is my favorite. I feel a kinship with the stag. It has always been my favorite of all woodland creatures.”
I smiled at him as he placed the bauble back onto the tree. He had such a kind manner about him. Nothing like I had pictured a duke to be.
“I admire that you have taken on a tradition from another land and brought it back here to share with us all. I think it’s wonderful,”I told him.
“It is. I do hope that it catches on someday,”he said, looking up at the grand tree. He reached out and took down the bauble with the foxes on it.“My Christmas gift to you. May it be the first ornament you hangon your own tree one day.”
“Thank you, my lord,”I said, taking it from his hands and giving him another bow.
“You are more than welcome, my dear.”
He offered a slight nod and then departed back onto the dance floor, blending into the whirlwind of people engaged in the final dance of the night. Glancing down at the exquisite bauble in my hand, a surge of excitement filled me. It was now the most splendid possession that I owned. Cradling it carefully, I observed the last dance unfold.
A thankful sigh escaped my lips, realizing that I had managed to escape the final dance invitation. The night was finally drawing to a close. My feet throbbed with soreness, and the tightness of my corset added an ache to my chest.
I turned to look at the tree one final time before heading back into the throng of guests in search of my gran. Walking to the edge of the room, I scanned the far wall through bobbed heads that danced around like a moving wall, blocking my view. Just as I was about to cut across the floor, a man came bursting through the dancers and ran directly into my shoulder as he pushed by. I stepped backward, almost falling over my dress that was pooled at my feet, and at that moment I lost grip of the bauble. I watched in horror as it fell to the ground, landing on the thick hem of my skirt. Thankfully it had saved the tiny thing from shattering, but as I bent down to grab it, I noticed a large crack running down its center.
Tears welled in my eyes as the once-pristine beauty of the bauble now stood blemished beyond repair. My gaze lifted to see who had so rudely jostled me without even a word of apology. In that moment, he turned back, his eyes brightened at the sight of me, then dimmed as he recognized me, and I him. It was the same insufferable man from yesterday, the one I had hoped to avoid throughout the evening.
I shot him a look which he returned before turning around abruptly and stomping off into the crowd of people.
“What insolence,”I said aloud as I watched him walk away.
An older woman to my right stepped up next to me and whispered in my ear,“The young lord is excessively indulged and tiresomely self-important, if you ask me.”
My jaw dropped. That was the duke’s son, the very son that my gran had saved during childbirth? The boy who had been granted a second chance at life.
Chapter Sixteen
The Little Blue Bauble
Nora reread the passage describing a small blue ornament adorned with foxes. Her eyes shifted toward the bag from the market resting on the small kitchen table. A sense of disbelief crept in.No, it can’t be, she thought as she stood up and walked over to the bag. Lifting the ornament from its snug little resting place amidst the sea of tissue paper, she turned it in her hands, inspecting it. It was identical to the one described in the book with one difference—this one lay in perfect condition without a crack down its center.
“This shit keeps getting weirder and weirder,” she muttered to herself after placing it back into the bag.
A knock at the door startled her. The pizza! After giving the driver a nice tip, she went back into the living room with thebox and landed back into the chair. The pizza only temporarily pulled the book from her mind. Once she had eaten three slices, her full belly left her feeling sleepy.
She had had enough of this crazy day, plus her eyes were dry and growing heavier by the minute. Before she fell asleep in the damn chair again, she put the pizza away, set the book on the side table, went into the bedroom, and crawled into bed. This would be her last night in the rental before her trip to Letterfearn in the Highlands tomorrow. She was excited and a little bit nervous about heading north into the more secluded part of the country. Before she even had the time to mull over plans for the next day or the odd events that seemed to be seeping out of the book’s pages and into reality, sleep overtook her.
The next morning, Nora packed her belongings and conducted a final sweep of the rental. Before tucking the photo album into her bag, she flipped through it, snapping pictures with her phone of places she wanted to see before leaving the city. Satisfied, she consulted her itinerary, checking her bus departure times. It was going to be tight, but if she hurried, she could squeeze in a few more places from the album and visit the bookstore before catching her bus to Letterfearn. Leaving a small tip for the cleaner, she headed out the door, ready to get some answers about her mysterious little book.
Her bags bounced along the cobblestone streets of the Royal Mile as she towed them behind her. The playful tag on her luggage, proudly announcing her status as a Hogwarts alumnus, swung back and forth as she made her way up the street. She reached into the white paper bag from the charming bakery she had visited the other day, pulling out a scone. Disappointingly, the scone proved stale, prompting her to toss it in the first rubbish bin she came across. She opted instead for another gingerbreadman, pulling one from the bag and biting off its tiny shoe.
