Oliver frowned.“There is something wrong.”
“Whydid I think I could keep anything from you?” Lydia’s smile wobbled.“Seraphina Waller-Mitchell has arrived.”
Stephenfroze.
Scowling, Oliversaid. “Why is Seraphina Waller-Mitchell here?”
“Imay have sent her an invitation,” Lydia said in a smallvoice.
Oliver stared ather in disbelief. “For the love of god, why?”
“Because she’s horrible and she taunted me that we would neverbe wed and now we are about to be wed and I wanted to rub it in herface,” she burst out.
Oliver blinked.“Oh. Well. Valid reason.”
“No,it’s not.” Burying her head in his chest, she mumbled something.Oliver’s arms came up to surround her in an embrace as he murmuredsomething back.
Stephen staredat them. Christ. Sera. Here.
He didn’t knowwhat to think. An ache opened in his chest, one he’d thought haddisappeared but he now realised never had. He’d ignored it, toldhimself he didn’t miss her, didn’t ache for her, but he did. Godalmighty, he did.
And now she washere.
Abruptly, heturned his heel and strode from the Long Gallery, ignoring Maxim’ssurprised call. He couldn’t…He had to think.
Sera. Here.Christ.
Chapter Nineteen
SITTING ON THE BED in the room that had been assignedto her, Sera stared at the closed door. On the other side stoodWaithe Hall and the celebrations of the upcoming marriage of LydiaTorrence and the Earl of Roxwaithe.
On the otherside stood her chance with Stephen.
Exhaling, shelooked down. She’d arrived at Waithe Hall late yesterday afternoon,after the sun had set and as darkness began to mar the path. A mixup with her trunks at the previous lodging had delayed herdeparture and, though it had been foolish to set out with theknowledge it could have been both darkandsnowing duringher journey, she’d not wanted to delay her arrival any longer. Herstomach already churned too much, and she’d bitten her nails to thequick. She wanted one part of this over, and being so close to itscompletion, she’d wanted no part of a delay. Arriving so late hadmeant she’d been greeted by servants rather than her hosts and, tobe perfectly honest, she’d preferred the servants to LydiaTorrence. She had been irritable, overwrought and travel-weary, andin no frame of mind to deal with Lydia and the mess she had made. Amaid had led her to her room, and she’d sent Delphine to thekitchens to request a tray be brought to her room.
And thus she hadseen no one and spoken to no one and now she sat here, staring at adoor and reluctant to leave her room.
Closing hereyes, she swallowed.Say it true, Sera. She wasscaredto leave her room.
How utterlyridiculous. She had never in her life been apprehensive to entersociety. Her presence was desired at gatherings from Carlisle toDover and all the places in between.
She squared hershoulders. She couldn’t stay here in her room forever. She wasSeraphina Waller-Mitchell. She could do anything she set her mindto and she would not let apprehension get the better ofher.
So resolved, sheswept from her room.
Waithe Hall wascavernous, and she found herself turned around four times beforeshe finally made it to the dining room for breakfast. The hallswere decorated with sprigs of holly and ivy, strung cranberries,and boughs of mistletoe. She’d never in her life seen such asaturation of decorations, especially in what had to beinfrequently used halls. Usually her Christmases were spent inLondon, attending whatever society gatherings remained. Somedecorated but most did not, and never in such abundance.
Outside thedining room, she hesitated. She could not recall she had ever beenalone at a house party. Always she’d been flanked by Maria andElizabeth, and she felt horribly exposed to be byherself.
Again, shesquared her shoulders. She was Seraphina Waller-Mitchell. She coulddo this. Chanting it over and over in her head, she entered theroom.
A longrectangular table burdened with piping hot food occupied the room,half of the seats filled. Perhaps the other guests were still toarrive. At the end of the table, the Earl of Roxwaithe bent hishead to Lydia’s bright red one, Lydia’s shoulders shaking withmirth. They looked…happy. Sera couldn’t ever remember feeling ashappy as they looked. What would that feel like? What would it belike to have that connection with someone, to laugh and talkand...hold your hand, as the earl now did with Lydia?
Lydia looked upand caught Sera staring at them. Her smile dipped before becoming abrittle thing. The earl noticed and followed her gaze, his browsdrawing as he spied her.
She lifted herchin. She would not be intimidated.
Earl Wainwrightsat to the left of Lord Roxwaithe, carefully spreading butter onhis lady’s toast. The countess watched him with amusement, her handcradling her gently rounded belly.
