Page 9 of The Gift of a Christmas Scandal

“Mariel, I have become cold, sitting here – perhaps we should return to the house, and see what entertainments have been decided for the day.”

“Yes, you’re right – It is cold when one sits still out here. Perhaps we can find good conversation by a warm fire… and perhaps you will talk with the Duke again…”

“Perhaps. Although it seems nothing could come of it – perhaps, if I am to escape the fate of a life with the Earl of Hockingmoor, my time would be better spent obtaining introductions to other gentlemen?”

Even as she said it, Selina knew that, sensible as that idea was, it was not at all what she wanted to do. What she wanted involved the very handsome Duke of Southolton, and a place far more private than the main parlour.

~~~~~

Alex was finding the day full of tedium, even though it had barely begun.

He sat in the parlour, relaxed in a large armchair near the fire, and attempted to look as if he was politely engaged with the conversation around him. His mother sat nearby, and Lady Phyllida and her father sat on the couch opposite him. They spoke of the number of recent betrothals that had been announced, all the while directing looks to him which, he knew, were intended to fill him with guilt. Instead, they filled him with yet more determined desperation.

He made occasional comments, enough to seem involved, whilst surreptitiously observing the rest of the room. Most of the young women present were watching him, and looked annoyed at Lady Phyllida’s rather proprietary attitude. They could not be more annoyed than he was himself, he thought, darkly amused.

He could not see, anywhere, Lady Selina. Since their conversation yesterday, she had been much in his thoughts, and, in fact, in his dreams – in a rather delicious and thoroughly inappropriate way. He remembered his promise to speak with her again, privately, and considered both when and where that might be arranged. Even sneaking about at night might be fraught with danger – for house parties were notorious for the surreptitious visits made to bedrooms by persons who were not supposed to be there. But he would find a way. She had intrigued him, and her obvious distress about her parents’ plan for her marriage was something he could very much relate to.

He agreed with yet another inane comment from Lady Phyllida, who eyed him sharply, quite sure that his apparently bland response hid something sarcastic. He kept his face blank, although her expression tempted him towards laughter. No, this was definitely not a woman he could spend his life with!

Then, a movement at the door caught his attention.

It was her. Lady Selina entered the room, talking to a young woman he had not been introduced to yet. She was, if anything, more deliciously beautiful than he had remembered. Scenes from his dreams came back to him, and he felt his body heat in reaction. Really, he needed to suppress such thoughts, or he would be shocking or titillating those present if he stood up!

But he watched her from under lowered lashes, knowing, in that instant, that he would send her a message that very afternoon. Perhaps a meeting in the library, well after midnight? His thoughts turned again to what might be possible with such a woman, alone. However inappropriate, he wanted her, wanted to kiss those full lips, wanted to hold her against him, and drive her to distraction in the most pleasant possible way. If, in the end, he was forced to marry Lady Phyllida, at least he would have the memory of some stolen moments with Lady Selina – or so he hoped.

Was she so much an innocent as she appeared, he wondered? If so, he would need to restrain himself – ruining her was not something he was willing to do. But there was no doubt of how much he desired her…

He realised, with a start, that he had lost track of the conversation, and that Lady Phyllida had seen the direction of his gaze. Her eyes were filled with anger, and she had just spoken to him sharply, to get his attention.

“…I said… and what plans do you have for our entertainment tomorrow, Your Grace?”

He brought his attention back to her, and considered his reply.

“I am afraid that you would be better placed asking my mother that question, my Lady. Organisation of such things is a talent of hers.” He glanced to his mother, who wore a slightly fixed smile, and gave a tiny shake of her head. She was not going to rescue him. “However, I do believe that, if the weather is kind, there is a riding party planned, out to the ruins of the old abbey – even in winter, the view is spectacular from up there. If the weather is inclement, then I am sure that some indoor games can be contrived to keep everyone amused.”

Lady Selina had come to stand not too far from where he sat, obviously seeking the warmth of the fire and, as he mentioned ‘a riding party’, she gave the tiniest start. Obviously, she could overhear his words. And, obviously, he was acutely aware of her, even when talking to others, or he would not have noticed. It was an odd sensation to be so attuned to another person.

Lady Phyllida seemed somewhat mollified, but he saw her glance at Lady Selina, with an expression which did not bode well. Alex sighed, wishing his father to the devil – which, he realised, was quite possibly where he was – for his arrogant interference in Alex’s life. He could not stand it anymore, could not sit there, trapped in dullness, and pretend to care. He rose, incurring a glare from both his mother and Lady Phyllida.

“I find myself in need of some fresh air. Sitting so close to the fire has left me feeling overly warm. And I should speak to others of our guests. I fear that I have been neglecting my duties as host.”

His mother nodded – how could she argue with that? He smiled, bowed, and left them there. As he moved away through the crowded room, his hand brushed across the back of Lady Selina’s skirt.

She stilled in place, for a moment – had he not been so acutely aware of her, he would not have noted it – then went on with her conversation with her friend. The friend who met his eyes over Lady Selina’s shoulder with a conspiratorial smile. He looked away, rapidly, and continued. It took three conversations to reach the door to the terrace, but finally, he slipped out into the crisp winter air.

After a moment, he slipped along the terrace, and back into the house through the door to the currently unoccupied morning room, then down the hall to his study. He pulled out a small sheet of crisp paper, and quickly scribed his message to Lady Selina, asking her to meet him in the library at an hour past midnight. He did not sign it, but once the ink was dry, simply folded it small and sealed it with plain wax. He slipped it into his sleeve, well hidden by his cuff, and stood.

His father’s portrait smiled down at him with that unbearable smugness, and he spoke softly, his voice full of the intensity of his feelings.

“I will defeat you yet father. You may smile now, but if you are watching over me, from wherever you are, know that you will not win this.”

The smug painted smile still taunted him, and he felt a little ridiculous, talking to a painting. But he meant his words. He would find a way, even if it meant taking the path that Warrington had suggested. But with who? He did not know.

He slipped back out, retracing his path, and re-entered the main parlour. The heat was almost suffocating after the crisp air outside. He moved around the room, being the good host, and conversing with many, being introduced to others.

Eventually, he found himself near Lady Selina and her friend, who had moved away from the fire to stand in one corner of the room. Her green eyes met his, and for a few seconds, it was as if no one else existed. He wanted to touch her – his need to do so was a physical ache. He bowed to her, and her friend, and both curtsied prettily. When they rose, Lady Selina spoke, in that beautiful voice which seemed to resonate in his bones.

“Your Grace, may I present Lady Mariel Angleton.”

“I am charmed, Lady Mariel. I hope that you are enjoying yourself.”

“Most definitely, Your Grace.”

Lady Selina looked at him, seemingly hesitant, then spoke again.

“Forgive me, Your Grace, but I could not help but overhear, earlier, your mention of a riding party. I am most fond of riding – might I hope to have use of a horse to partake in that activity?”

“Of course, Lady Selina, my stablemaster will be able to arrange what you need. For now, I should see to more of my guests.”

Carefully shifting his sleeve, so that the folded note slipped down into his hand, he reached out, took her hand, and bowed again, pressing the note into her palm as he did so. She stilled momentarily, then her fingers closed around it as he stood, and repeated the bow over the hand with Lady Mariel.

As he turned away, he saw the Earl of Hockingmoor regarding him with eyes as angry as Lady Phyllida’s had been earlier. Well, he thought, that made the situation clear – now he knew, he thought, who Lady Selina was being pressed to marry.