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Eight

HefferwickshireHouseDrawingRoom

23 DECEMBER 1826 ~ TWO EVENINGS LATER, AFTER SUPPER

Standingbefore the window overlooking the shadowy gardens, lustrous with newly fallen snow, Althelia nibbled her lower lip, scheming how she might formulate a plausible excuse to hurry the gentlemen’s after-supper brandy and cigars along.

Perhapsshe should pretend to swoon?

Shetoyed with a holly leaf, taking care not to prick her finger on a spine. The essence of pine and other holiday greenery filled the room, adding to the already festive atmosphere.

Amild headache had niggled behind her eyes since this afternoon, making it difficult to do anything but nibble her dinner. Still, she’d never swooned from a headache or an empty stomach.

Justas rapidly as Althelia concocted her potential emergency, she discarded it.

True, that would bring Papa and her brothers running—hopefully, Owen too—but then Mama would send her to bed for the evening with one of Mrs. Bottleknob’s vile tonics, or at the very least headache powders, which would leave her groggy and woolen headed tomorrow.

Inthe past two days, she and Owen had managed to sneak off together several times. Five minutes here. Fifteen minutes there, and stolen kisses at every opportunity, beneath the mistletoe kissing boughs and elsewhere too.

However, it was impossible to arrange for longer assignations as more of the family arrived, and Christmas drew nearer. Up from Brighton, where he’d fulfilled his dream of opening an art studio, Cassius arrived this morning, only hours before the first snowflakes began falling.

Atthis juncture, it was doubtful Layton, a captain in HisMajesty’sArmy, or Darius, a lieutenant in the Navy and finishing what he claimed was his last year in military service, would put in an appearance. Likely they’d sent their excuses, but given the post’s unreliability and the distance the missives might have to travel, it could be the new year before the letters arrived.

Thatcaused a temporary pall over the celebratory spirit, but as officers serving the King, neither Layton’s nor Darius’s time was their own.

Therewas always next year.

Altheliadesperately wanted and needed time alone with Owen to explore this wonderful thing blossoming between them, which became increasingly difficult with all the activities Mama planned. For certain, someone would note their absence and remark upon it. Then believable explanations must be devised.

Accordingto Leonidas, Owen planned to leave HefferwickshireHouse before the new year. That gave Althelia scant little time to convince the dear man that they were exactly what the other needed. From the onset, he’d stirred something latent to life in her. When he first kissed her—what a wonderfully wicked thing for the darling rogue to do—everything became crystal clear to Althelia.

Everydoubt faded.

Everypiece fell into place, and she understood with complete clarity and excitement.

She’ddone the untenable, the impossible, the most marvelously confusing, splendid thing she’d ever done in her three and twenty years.

Altheliahad fallen in love at first sight.

Ifshe weren’t mistaken—please God, I cannot be, must not be—Owen’s feelings mirrored hers. Now she must convince him to declare himself, ask Papa’s permission, and then propose before he left.

Eachof these was a monumental task, but not impossible.

Lovemade everything possible.

Time, however, proved a most inconvenient detriment to her future happiness.

Travelingand owning a club paled in comparison to becoming Owen’s wife. Nevertheless, she still wanted a dog. In the evenings, she and Owen would sit by a fire reading or chatting, faithful Zenobia’s and Zeus’s heads in their respective laps.

Altheliahad spent the better part of two days fantasizing about a future with him and sought him out at every turn. Which proved far more difficult than it ought to have done. The menfolk kept hying off to do manly things like cut the yuletide tree down while the women attended to the more domestic Christmastide duties.

Tonight, everyone would help decorate the tree erected this afternoon in the ballroom for tomorrow’s annual ChristmasEve ball.

Thisevening, she had taken special care with her appearance. The cobalt blue velvet gown accented with gold ribbons flattered her coloring and emphasized her slight curves. Sapphires from Mama’s parure set twinkled and glittered at her ears, collarbone, and wrist.

Altheliahad suffered through Beatty, her lady’s maid, arranging her thick hair into an artful Grecian creation with gold ribbon threaded throughout. The tugging, twisting, and pinning had provoked her headache to a new level.

Still, nothing, not even if thunder cracked inside her head, would keep Althelia from spending every minute she could with Owen. She’d even dabbed perfume behind her ears, at her wrists, and scandalously in her décolletage before smearing the tiniest touch of rouge on her lips and cheeks.