Page 34 of Bound By The Christmastide Moon

“How is Lady Lichfield faring?” Mallory asked, hesitantly.

“She still remains in her private chamber, but has allowed Aunt Regina to visit,” Silas confided. “I think she is counting down the days until her return to Paris.”

“It is where she is comfortable, and we cannot deny her that.” Silas’s mother was an enigma that was not easily understood. The woman was almost childlike in demeanor and preferred her own company to that of others. Even Aunt Hettie had found it difficult to draw the woman out. “Aunt Hettie has spoken of your mother, and her happiness in Paris. She will be taken care of, and we shall visit when it is safe.”

Silas wrapped his arms around Mallory and pulled her close. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

“That is very good, because I must insist we see Mary Louisa as often as possible.”

“When are your parents arriving?”

“Mother sent word to Aunt Hettie that they’d be arriving today, likely before late afternoon.” It was the only unease that hadn’t been banished during the months spent getting to know Silas and his family. His family had been more than welcoming to her and Aunt Hettie. Mallory would go so far as to say that she’d grown closer to Slade and Sybil than she’d ever been with her own brother, Adam. “They will stay only two days and then return to London.”

“That is likely for the best, However, we will journey to town next month.” Silas was determined to set to rights Mallory’s strained relationship with the marquess and marchioness, though Mallory had stated it was not something to hedge one’s bets on—as Slade commonly phrased it. “Oh, and I came in search of you for a reason.”

“Other than a few stolen kisses?” she teased, thankful the conversation had steered in another direction. “Because I am not sure I can spare a moment if—”

Silas captured her lips, cutting her words short.

And Mallory could think of no other place she longed to be, and no other man she desired to be there with.

It was still inconceivable that they’d found one another despite their different upbringings.

Yet, with time, their bond had only grown stronger and deeper, defying everything Mallory had feared her future would hold.

Silas sighed, their lips parting, and a frown creasing his face. “While I would relish nothing more than to remain here in the atrium with you until our morning nuptials, I fear we cannot.”

An inkling of dread crept down her spine. “Why ever not, my lord?”

“Because, our honored guest has arrived, and I cannot think of anything more fitting than to parade our love before the man, as he was fairly certain I would muck things up long before now.”

Her stomach fluttered, and her heart raced at his mention of love. Swallowing hard, she said, “Surely, he was not so rude as to say that…”

“But he was thinking it, I assure you,” he replied with a wink.

“Then by all means, let us not tarry, and rush to greet the esteemed Mr. Horace Peabody to welcome him to Hampshire.” Their mutual family solicitor had been the source of much merriment over the past several months. Mallory had discovered he’d been the lone man privy to both Mallory’s secrets and that of the Lichfield family; yet, he’d championed their match. She was greatly looking forward to making the man’s acquaintance at long last. When Silas moved to her side and offered his arm, Mallory slipped hers through his without a second of hesitation. “I suppose we owe Mr. Peabody our most sincere gratitude, do we not?”

“I guess it is only his due,” Silas said, straightening his shoulders. “Though, I am hesitant to abandon our solitude, even for Mr. Peabody.”

Mallory patted his arm, her light laughter echoing in the vaulted room.

As they approached the door that led into the main house, the frame shuddered as it swung open, crashing into the wall behind it. Slade skidded into the atrium, his boots slipping in a puddle created when Mallory had given the plants their morning watering.

“What in the bloody hell?!” Silas immediately pushed Mallory behind him as if preparing for danger. “Slade, why are you panting so hard? And your pants look as if you’ve rolled in the muck in the stables.”

Mallory pushed from safety and laughed once more. “Yes, Slade,” she echoed. “What are you up to now?”

To his credit, Slade gained his balance and bowed to his future sister, but could not quite keep his attention focused on Mallory or Silas, his stare straying over his shoulder. “Good morn, my lady. Brother.”

Silas waved off the man’s attempt at pleasantries. “Did you hide Lady Hettie’s needlepoint again?” When Slade’s chest puffed as if offended at the accusation, Silas continued, “Put flour in Sybil’s face powder?”

“Of course not, dear brother, I learned my lesson well where Sybil is concerned.”

“Then what has you breathing hard and fleeing as if the Devil is on your tail?” Mallory questioned.

“The Devil,” Slade mused, rubbing at his chin. “Yes, I think we can all agree the Devil has arrived at Ditchley Hall.”

“What in the blazes does that mean?” Silas’s voice thundered, and the windowpanes quaked in response, yet Slade seemed unaffected by his elder brother’s demand.