Page 27 of Snowed In with the Jilted Duke

“Good morning, Pi—pigeon.”

Oliver bit the inside of his lip. He could only hope his family would not find the sudden endearment too startling when he and Penelope had been distantly polite for so long.

Pippa’s eyes widened, giving her the air of a startled deer as she froze for a moment. The whole crowd tittered and whispered in a pleased fashion.

Daring greatly, he took the hand she extended to him and bent to kiss her cheek. Her skin was smooth and silky beneath his lips, and he breathed in the floral and evergreen scents that surrounded her before he straightened. “Hard at work already, I see.”

“We must make all of the garlands before the dance tonight.”

“And a kissing ball!” one of the younger cousins crowed from the other table. “We must have a kissing ball.”

Pippa blushed delightfully as Oliver hid his laugh in a cough.

“A wonderful idea, Cousin Elizabeth,” Oliver said. “Indeed, we must have a kissing ball.”

If they had ever had a kissing ball at a previous Christmas, he had not noticed it. Odd to realize he had been betrothed for so long but had never considered stealing a kiss from Penelope at Christmas, when it would have been natural for him to do so.

Pippa, on the other hand...

He still held Pippa’s hand in his, her fingers curled around his palm, and he found himself reluctant to break away, even with every woman in the room watching them covertly or openly.

If they wondered why he was suddenly so affectionate with his intended... well, let them. They must become accustomed to it.

A soft cough came from the doorway, and Oliver looked to see Teasdale standing there.

“I beg your pardon, your grace, but your presence is requested in the drawing room.”

“Of course, Teasdale.” Oliver gave Pippa’s hand a little squeeze before pulling his away. “You may tell the dowager I shall be there shortly.”

Nodding to the women, Oliver took his leave, continuing on his way to the drawing room.

As promised, his grandmother was there, eyes half-closed as Cousin Yardley read one of the London newspapers to her. Her vision had grown weak with age, but she still enjoyed knowing all of the news when someone had the patience to read it to her.

Yardley broke off and rose to his feet with a bow. “Kendal.”

Oliver nodded back. “Good morning, Grandmama. Good morning, Yardley.” He bent to kiss the dowager on the cheek. “I am surprised you are not with the other ladies.”

“Miss Penelope has it all well in hand,” she said. “She rose early this morning and had everything arranged before I was ready to come downstairs.”

His grandmother sounded almost… approving. Oliver smiled.

“And what is the program for the rest of the day?”

“Decorating, of course. They may be able to assemble the garlands without me, but Miss Penelope assured me they will still need my advice when it comes to hanging them.”

Oliver nodded. It was clever of Pippa to find a way to include his grandmother without overtaxing her strength. Last year, when the Montgomerys had not come for the holiday, the garland-making had nearly broken down when two of his aunts had turned an argument over the best way to make a garland into a raking-over of thirty years of resentments in front of half the family. He had thought they would come to blows before Grandmama had succeeded in calming them.

So far, all seemed peaceful thanks to Pippa’s organizing. She had a knack for directing people in a way he had not expected. Of course, she and her sister had gone to the best schools and learned how to manage a household along with young women of his class. Their father had spared no expense to turn them into ladies.

“I say, Kendal, are you up for a game of billiards?” Yardley asked.

“Of course,” Oliver said, grateful for the distraction. “And then I believe Cousin Beatrice is demanding more rehearsals of the play this afternoon. We have at least accomplished a full read-through of the play and she has conceded that we may keep our manuscripts in hand during the performance, given the short amount of time we have to prepare.”

Time was indeed short. Not only for the play, but the time until the snow melted sufficiently that travel could resume and Pippa’s father arrived.

He must win Pippa over before her father arrived, or she would never believe he had chosen her of his own free will.

Walking down the corridor after supervising the hanging of the Christmas garlands, Pippa heard a clash of steel behind one of the half-closed doors, and she paused to peer through.