Page 14 of The Gift of a Christmas Scandal

Lady Phyllida gave her a curt nod, and turned away. Selina looked back towards Mariel, to find her watching.

“What was that about?”

Mariel spoke as soon as Selina reached her, and drew Selina to sit beside her. Selina leant close to her friend, and spoke in a whisper.

“I was being warned off. Lady Phyllida saw fit to inform me that the Duke is promised to her, and that any hopes on my part would be pointless.”

“Oh! How unconscionably rude of her! But I must say, I can understand her jealousy – I think that most of the women here are jealous of you – he sought you out, so very obviously! What haven’t you told me? I watched you with him – there is something there, isn’t there?”

Selina blushed, then gave the tiniest nod. Her voice this time was even quieter.

“I am not telling you here! But… shall we say that I am beginning to understand what you like about … kisses…”

“Ooh! You must tell me more later. But… if that is the way of it, be daring, and enjoy yourself. But not too daring – you would not want to risk ending up ruined, would you? That could only lead to a different kind of forced marriage.”

Selina nodded, considering Mariel’s words, which echoed part of her conversation with the Duke. Yet… being forced to marry a man like him, a man she liked – more than liked – would not be so bad – would it? That required more thought, later.

~~~~~

Alex watched Lady Selina walk away.

The sway of her hips was enticing and, whilst part of him did not want her to go, wanted, indeed, to pull her to him and kiss her, he knew that it would not be wise to spend any more time with her. Even partnering her for the game had been a risk – and it was obvious that both Lady Phyllida and Lord Hockingmoor had noticed – and not approved. Yet he had been unable to resist. The day, to that point, so close to her and unable to touch her or even speak to her beyond a greeting, had been torture.

His body ached – the kind of ache that could only be sated by having her in his arms – and preferably more. He sighed, and turned away, intending to circulate in the room, and do his duty as a host. But, as he turned, he nearly collided with a large man. Lord Hockingmoor.

“Southolton.” Lord Hockingmoor’s tone was barely polite. “I wanted a word with you.”

“Yes, Lord Hockingmoor – on what subject?”

Alex could hear the studied edge in his own voice – the balance between ennui and sardonic dismissal. His lips twisted into a smile which was barely removed from mocking, as he waited for the man’s response, eyebrow raised. Hockingmoor drew himself up, looking somewhat pompous.

“On the subject of Lady Selina Brancourt, Your Grace. You may not be aware, but it has long been the intention of her family and mine that I should marry her – it lacks only the formalities to be announced, which I expect will occur within the month. As such, I do not appreciate your obvious attentions to her. Especially as, I believe, you are a promised man yourself.”

Alex’s smile did not waver, although it twisted a little. He suspected that he looked dangerous at that moment, for Hockingmoor took a step back.

“I do not believe, my Lord, that I have paid her any exceptional attention – only what is fairly due to any guest in my house. Perhaps you act rather precipitously in this conversation, if the lady has not yet accepted your formal proposal. I do not appreciate your implied slur on my character.”

He gave the man a curt nod, and turned away, leaving Hockingmoor spluttering behind him. The man was a pompous boor. No wonder Lady Selina did not wish to marry him – a fact which seemed to have escaped Hockingmoor completely. Alex’s first instinct was to go to Lady Selina, to somehow protect her from Hockingmoor – but he knew that he could not. He was being a fool – he should be concentrating on finding a way out of that damned contract, not allowing himself to be distracted by a beauty he could not have.

~~~~~

At dinner, Selina found herself seated a little along the table from the Duke, between two men that she had not met until the day before. They regaled her with what they obviously thought to be engaging conversation, but, after a while, they were talking to each other, past her. The discussion revolved around the training of hunting dogs. Selina looked around the table, wondering if others fared better than her.

She felt tired, and her head ached – Lady Phyllida’s warning still grated on her, and she longed for the Duke’s touch, even though that was truly foolish.

The more she allowed herself to become enamoured of him, the more it would hurt when she had to leave this place, when each of them went to the marriages which would trap them for life. It was a most lowering thought, that now, when there was nothing that she could do about it, she should meet a man she actually wanted.

She had barely touched her food, and was glad when the plates were cleared. She sat through the serving of the dessert, barely touching that either, then, as soon as she politely could, she pushed back her chair and excused herself, declaring that she had a megrim, and would retire early. Mariel offered to accompany her to her room, and she was grateful for the support – but also cautious – Mariel would want to talk.

As she turned to leave the room, her eyes met the Duke’s, and something passed between them – something that she did not entirely understand, but something full of the echoes of shared pain and desperation – and a carnal hunger that she barely understood, but could not deny. She shivered at the intensity of it, and pulled her eyes away.

That look stayed with her, as they went up the stairs and along the corridors to her room. Once they were inside, Mariel turned to her.

“Do you really have a megrim? Or did you just want to escape that dreadful conversation which you were trapped in the middle of? Oh, and what did you mean before about beginning to understand about liking kisses – what has happened? You must tell me, Selina!”

“My head really does hurt. Although not as badly as I implied. And yes, I wanted desperately to escape.”

“And the rest of my question? About kisses?”

Selina blushed, as she stood before the mirror and pulled the pins from her hair, the rich golden coils falling down about her shoulders. How much should she say?

“Well… I won’t tell you where or when… but he kissed me. And I rather desperately want him to do so again, even if nothing more could ever come of it.”

“Oh my! This could almost be something out of a tragic novel – the two people who are promised to others meet at the last minute, too late to save each other, and realise their doomed love!”

“Really Mariel, I didn’t say anything about love! And I am not quite doomed yet – although I admit that I have not yet found a solution to my problem.” She sighed. “And neither has he found a way out of his problem.”

“So you’ve talked about it then? My, how intimate a confidence, for so soon after meeting him. You must have made quite the impression! You must enjoy what you can, while you can, then. As I said before, be daring, but not too daring – and don’t get caught, for that way lies a scandalous compromise and a forced marriage to the man found with you.” Mariel fell silent for a moment, eyeing Selina thoughtfully, then spoke, a little hesitantly. “Or… is that the intention? Do you want a scandal?”

“Mariel! Really!”

But the words stayed with her, even after Mariel left her to sleep.