Mistletoe and Mayhem: A Regency Holiday Romance Anthology, page 82
Her cool reserve unexpectedly stirred him. What would it take to loosen her hold on her emotions so her true feelings would show?
“Do you enjoy living in London, Mr. Raybourne?” she asked. She met his gaze, the sincerity of it suggesting she truly wanted to know.
Her genuine interest was refreshing, so different than other people, including her cousin. Miss Waverly hadn’t asked him any questions that he remembered. In fact, he couldn’t remember the topic of their last conversation. Their exchanges tended to be flirtatious but meaningless. Perhaps he should rectify that. How would he know if Miss Waverly would suit him when he didn’t truly know her?
“I enjoy parts of the city,” he responded after considering her question. “But I would prefer to spend more time in the country.” His own answer surprised him, for he hadn’t admitted the desire to himself, let alone anyone else.
“Oh?” She tilted her head to the side, those lovely eyes holding on him, obviously expecting him to share more—as if she wanted to know more.
“In London, one tends to see the same people who talk about the same things. The country offers more variety in many ways.” He spoke of how he’d enjoyed long days spent riding and working with horses in his youth.
“Do you have family?” she asked as a raspberry cream trifle was served.
“Two brothers, one older, one younger.”
“You must’ve had an interesting childhood.”
He couldn’t resist telling her about one of the times they managed to escape their tutor to go fishing. Then he shook his head, realizing the meal was nearly over, and he’d dominated the entire conversation. “My apologies for rambling on. You’re very easy to speak with.”
She blinked at his compliment as if surprised. “The pleasure was mine. I’ve enjoyed our visit.”
The gentleman on her opposite side asked her a question, leaving Hugh a moment of quiet. He didn’t understand himself. Why had he told her all those things? He glanced at Miss Waverly who sat near her father at the end of the table. She was speaking to Jameson, her expression animated. Obviously, Jameson was one of her suitors. The viscount’s title would make vying against him for her hand difficult. Was this a competition or did the lady simply wish to get to know them better?
Regardless, Hugh was pleased he’d spent the meal beside Miss Gray. Her pleasant company allowed him to relax and not watch each word that passed his lips.
The ladies rose to return to the drawing room, leaving the men to converse with glasses of port. Jameson seemed to be doing his best to monopolize their host’s attention. Hugh knew he needed to put his best foot forward with Mr. Waverly at every opportunity if he wanted to win his daughter’s hand. But doing so on the morrow would suffice. For now, he was content to talk with the other gentlemen and enjoy himself.
They rejoined the ladies, and Hugh found himself searching the room for Miss Gray. The realization unsettled him. The goal of this house party was to win Miss Waverly’s eye. Her wealth was ideal if he wanted to pursue his hope of raising horses. Without funds, the dream would never come to pass.
His objective stood near the cheerfully burning fire, conversing with Edward Barnes and his sister. Barnes didn’t worry him overmuch and now was his chance to spend more time with Miss Waverly.
Hugh moved in their direction only to have Emma’s father clap his shoulder.
“Raybourne, are you enjoying yourself?” the older man asked.
Hugh turned with a smile. “Indeed, sir. The meal was delicious and the conversation lively.”
“Excellent. We’ll be playing billiards and a few hands of cards shortly if you have a mind to join us.”
“I’d be pleased to do so.” Hugh hid a satisfied smile as best he could. Gaining the man’s approval was nearly as important as gaining his daughter’s.
Yet as Mr. Waverly stepped away and Hugh joined his daughter and Barnes to converse, his gaze followed Miss Gray. She moved slowly about the room, speaking with the few people who seemed ill at ease.
She bent low to place a hand on Mrs. Robard’s arm where the elderly woman sat on the settee with a grim expression and soon had the woman chuckling. Then she moved on to a young man Hugh had yet to meet but who continually tugged at his cravat as if it were too tight. The look of gratitude on the man’s face was nearly comical. She even took the time to introduce a young lady with a plump form and a friendly smile to the man and stayed to converse with the two of them for several minutes before moving on. Based on the way the pair continued to speak, Miss Gray had found a common interest for them to share.
“Isn’t that right, Mr. Raybourne?” Miss Waverly’s question took him by surprise.
“My apologies. I was woolgathering.”
She frowned as she glanced over to see who he’d been watching. Luckily, Miss Gray had moved on to visit with someone else and no longer stood in his line of vision.
“I suggested we wait until mid-day before we go skating with the hope the temperature warms.”
“A wise idea,” he agreed. “Do you enjoy skating?”
Her pleased smile suggested she appreciated his interest. “I adore it. I hope you do as well?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure in several years, but I skated frequently in my youth.”
“What of you, Mr. Barnes?”
The conversation continued, but Miss Waverly didn’t bother to include Miss Barnes. The other lady appeared distressed based on her frown.
Did Miss Waverly truly not realize she’d left out the woman or did she not care? He didn’t like to think she was purposely rude.
“Lucy?” Miss Waverly called out to her cousin who was passing by. “Do you remember what fun we used to have on the ice?”
“Such fun.” Miss Gray smiled as she took in each member of the conversation, her gaze holding on Miss Barnes. “What of you, Miss Barnes? Do you skate?”
“I do, though I might need a partner for the first round or two on the ice. It’s been some time since I’ve done so.”
Hugh smiled at Miss Gray, amazed at how quickly she smoothed Miss Barnes’s ruffled feathers. Her thoughtfulness warmed him though he couldn’t say why as that was a trait he rarely considered. He gave himself a mental shake. Why was he allowing a pair of lovely brown eyes and kindness to shift his focus? With a stern reminder to himself, he moved his attention back to Miss Waverly.
Chapter Three
Lucy rose early the next morning, eager to start the day before Aunt Edith woke. This was Lucy’s favorite part of the day as her aunt normally slept late. Once she woke, she took most of Lucy’s time, but these few precious hours were a gift.
Emma’s decision to delay the skating until mid-day had been disappointing. By then, Lucy would be with Aunt Edith, reading, or writing letters, or whatever task her aunt wished.
But for now, her time was her own.
One look out the window confirmed exactly what Lucy had hoped—the wind had died down and the weather was perfect for skating.
After washing her face and tidying her hair, she dressed in several layers followed by her warmest wool gown. Then she put on her cloak and grabbed her muff, scarf, gloves, and the skates that strapped onto her half-boots and headed out the door with a friendly greeting to the surprised footman on duty.
The ice-skating area was within walking distance, and she looked forward to gliding over the ice in the peaceful quiet.
The evening had been enjoyable, but she’d forgotten how exhausting it was to make conversation. She hadn’t been able to keep from helping the other guests to enjoy themselves. Some needed a nudge in the right direction.
The air was crisp and removed the last dregs of tiredness that nipped at her as did excitement at having the ice all to herself. She walked briskly, pleased to see the smooth sheen of ice beckoning her.
Her uncle had placed benches for the skaters to sit and fasten their skates, and she pulled off her muff and gloves to strap on her blades. Soon she was taking her first stilted glides, finding her balance after a couple of turns around the frozen pond.
The skating area wasn’t a true pond, only a low spot her uncle flooded for the purpose of skating. It was thick enough to provide a good surface but shallow enough to easily freeze given the cold temperatures of the past fortnight. There was no worry over skating on a thin spot and falling through.
Lucy picked up her speed, the cold wind stinging her nose and cheeks. To test her skills, she managed an awkward turn and then a smoother one, feeling more graceful as she moved across the ice.
Oh, it was truly delightful. How she’d missed this feeling. The freedom was thrilling. She couldn’t imagine a dance being this enjoyable.
She’d been skating for half an hour when she saw a tall figure striding toward her. Resigned to having her solitude disturbed, she slowed and approached to greet him, her displeasure fading as she recognized Mr. Raybourne.
“Good morning,” he called, his hands buried in his greatcoat. “You have a talent for skating.”
“Thank you. Emma and I used to skate in our youth.”
“And you’re an early riser.”
“You must be as well.” She was surprised as many of the men had played billiards and cards late into the night. None of the effects of a late night were visible on his countenance.
“Seems a waste of the country air to remain abed on a fine morning.” His gaze took in the fields before returning to her, giving her heart a little bump.
“I agree.” She hesitated then asked, “Did you bring your skates this morning?”
“No, I was out for a walk when I saw you.”
“I won’t be joining the party later, so I decided to skate while I could.” She backed up slightly then skated forward again, unable to stand still.
“Perhaps tomorrow morning I’ll join you if you don’t mind some company?”
“I’d be delighted.” And she realized she would. If one of the guests were to join her, Mr. Raybourne was the ideal choice. Conversation with him was relatively easy though she couldn’t deny the awareness she felt when in his presence.
Even now, she felt warm from the inside out, and it had little to do with skating. Was this how Emma felt when she was with him? The thought sobered her. She needed to remember her purpose here. Skating with him would provide a chance for her to form an opinion about him.
“I look forward to it.” With a dose of that smile and a touch to the brim of his hat, he turned and continued his walk, his broad shoulders a sight to behold.
Lucy bit her lip, excited at the prospect of skating with him come morning. How was she going to curtail her feelings and keep her purpose in mind?
Hugh sorely missed Miss Gray’s presence during the ice-skating outing later in the day. She’d looked so happy before he’d interrupted her that he was almost sorry he had. Almost.
Now as the group bundled into the wagon that would return them to the house where warm beverages awaited them, he was pleased he’d had time with her earlier.
He hadn’t been able to resist questioning Miss Waverly about her whereabouts, but his inquiry had been met with a vague response. “I’m sure she’s caring for Aunt Edith. That’s how she spends every day.”
Hugh didn’t understand the family. Why wouldn’t they take turns with their aunt, especially when they were all staying under the same roof? Why did it fall to Miss Gray?
Miss Waverly sat by him in the wagon and the brief interlude was enjoyable. But he had no doubt the skating excursion would’ve been more fun for everyone if Miss Gray had been there. She’d made certain all the guests were enjoying themselves last evening. But today, several had regained their awkwardness and skated alone, something Miss Waverly either didn’t notice or didn’t care about.
Hugh frowned. Why was he suddenly aware of other people’s happiness?
“You’re a fine skater, Mr. Raybourne.” Miss Waverly placed her gloved hand under his arm while the wagon bumped along toward the house.
The contact surprised him, but when she smiled up at him, her blue eyes sparkling, he was even more surprised to realize he felt nothing.
“As are you, Miss Waverly.” This was his chance to flirt. To say something charming. But his mind was blank. The reserve he felt with her was puzzling.
She smiled, seemingly unaware of his internal debate. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and he was shocked at her forwardness since they weren’t alone.
“I hope we have the chance to do so again.” She leaned closer.
“As do I.” He patted her hand on his arm. Still, nothing clever came to mind, much to his dismay.
They arrived at the house, saving him from further conversation. Emma walked up the front steps with another guest. But as everyone doffed their outer garments in the entrance hall before moving en masse upstairs to the drawing room, she stared at him for a moment before stepping into the small reception room off the entrance.
Hugh paused. He knew an invitation when he saw one. Did he dare accept it? He reminded himself that she was the reason he was here. After lingering briefly in the foyer, he joined her where she stood before the fire in the small room, holding out her hands toward the flames.
“Cold out there, wasn’t it?” he asked as a way of announcing his presence as he forced himself forward.
“Terribly,” she said with a smile. “My hands are still freezing.” She held them out as if to show him.
“I’m sure you’re chilled to the bone.” He glanced at her hands but didn’t take them, deciding to keep his distance. With his luck, someone would come upon them.
She dropped her hands with a slight pout. “I’m cold everywhere.”
“Shall I add more wood to the fire?”
“I can think of a better way to warm.” She batted her lashes several times.
Her invitation was clear but holding her wasn’t worth the risk. Not when her father was beginning to like him. A trickle of unease ran along his skin, and though he couldn’t pinpoint the cause, he always listened to his instincts.
“What is it?”
“We should join the others.”
The twist of her lips suggested disappointment. “I suppose so.” She stepped close to tap a finger on his lapel. “But be on the lookout for mistletoe. One never knows where it might appear.”
Then with a flirtatious smile, she took her leave.
He sighed as he watched her go, wondering what was wrong with him. Since when did he have to be talked into a tête-à-tête with a beautiful lady?
“You tried to convince him to kiss you?” Lucy stared in disbelief at Emma, who sat on the settee beside her in Aunt Edith’s bedchamber later that afternoon. Her whispered words were louder than she intended but their aunt continued to snore gently.
“I don’t have much time and few opportunities,” Emma insisted. “I must take advantage of each one.”
“What did he say?” Lucy had yet to kiss anyone. The thought of doing so caused her mouth to dry. Or was it the idea of kissing Mr. Raybourne that caused it?
Emma heaved a sigh which spoke clearly of her disappointment. “Only that we should rejoin the others. If he likes me, why wouldn’t he take my hint?”
Lucy glanced again at Aunt Edith, but she still slept soundly despite their whispered conversation. “It sounds to me as if he acted as a gentleman should.”
“But he’s a rogue. One would think he’d take advantage of the moment.”
Lucy smiled. “Perhaps you’ve been reading too many romances. Besides, it’s not just a kiss that matters. It’s the moment before the kiss. It’s about how you feel when he looks into your eyes.”
“I felt a lovely flutter as we stood there alone.” Emma’s eyes narrowed as she analyzed the moment. “Have you experienced that as well?”
“I couldn’t say.” Not when the only times she’d felt that had been with Mr. Raybourne. When his eyes had held on her as if nothing else in the world mattered. The memory was enough to cause another flutter.
“Hmm. I suppose it could’ve been nerves. The idea of Mother or Father walking in worried me.”
“As it should. Do take care.” Lucy had to warn her.
“Of course.” Emma waved her hand. “I shall try Mr. Barnes next. Though it will be a challenge to find a moment alone when his sister is forever at his side.”
“Miss Barnes doesn’t seem to make friends easily.”
“Which is why I’ll need your help. If I give you a nod, it means you should lure her away from her brother’s side.”
Lucy hid a sigh. While she was grateful to be here with her family, she didn’t care for the games Emma was playing. “You do realize a moment alone with a man might be all it takes to find you betrothed.”
“I shall be careful. Besides, it’s a thrill to attempt a moment of passion.” She placed both hands over her heart as she spoke.
“A moment of what?” Aunt Edith asked with a frown, suddenly wide awake. “What did you say?”
“Poison,” Emma quickly supplied as she dropped her hands. “We’re discussing a book I’m reading. The heroine has to find poison.”
“Humph.” Aunt Edith considered Emma for a long moment as if unconvinced. Then she closed her eyes once more.
Lucy waited a breath before whispering, “Your recklessness might not end well.”
“You sound like my mother. Where is your sense of adventure, Lucy?” Emma shook her head. “You’ll be a spinster if you don’t find it.”
The thought was a sobering one. Though she loved her aunt, she had no desire to spend the rest of her life living such a solitary existence. Would she have a chance for more? And if that chance came along, would she have the courage to take it?
Hugh arrived early in the drawing room before dinner, hoping to find Miss Waverly. After much thought, he was certain that coming to know her better would be the solution to the absence of a connection he felt when they were together. He might appreciate her beauty, but physical attraction would only last so long.
Yet as he searched the guests, he realized he was looking for dark hair. More specifically, the dark hair of Miss Gray. With a muttered oath, he reminded himself of his need for a wealthy wife if he wished to pursue his dream of raising horses. He could admire Lucy all he wanted, but marriage was a serious business. His future was at stake.
