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Snowbound with the Viscount

Page 2

by Galen, Shana


  Two

  The clipped conversation and clink of forks at dinner punctuated the other guests’ short tempers. They’d expected a sennight of winter games and frolics and instead they’d been trapped inside by rain and slush. Now the longed-for snow had arrived, but they were trapped again by the blizzard raging outside.

  Holly Farthing supposed she was one of the few guests enjoying the meal. The soup was perfectly seasoned, the bread warm and crusty, and the vegetables surprisingly fresh and tasty. How could she complain when she was with her friend Lady Dorsey at such a lovely meal? It did not hurt that Lord Ivy had complimented her this afternoon. His remarks had more than buoyed her spirits. He had noticed her! He’d said any man would want her for a wife.

  Of course, he’d also said he thought of her as a friend, but she wouldn’t dwell on that.

  Eva rose and clinked her wine glass several times for attention. She looked lovely tonight in a green dress that complemented her eyes. The room quieted as the ladies and gentlemen ceased their grumbling to peer at their hostess. Lord Ivy sat opposite Holly and at the other end of the table. She was seated between two men, neither of whom had shown any inclination to speak to her after the first dinner, and he between two ladies. The ladies beside him were decidedly taken with him, if the fluttering of fans and lashes was any indication.

  And why wouldn’t they be? He was the most handsome man in attendance, and his easy smile charmed even the dourest of guests.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Eva said, “I know our plans have been spoiled by first rain and now snow, but we needn’t let the weather ruin all of our fun. I have a surprise after dinner.” Her eyes danced, and Holly could feel the mood of the guests start to shift toward hopeful.

  A few murmurs passed through the guests, whispers as to what the surprise might be. The man beside Holly muttered, “It had better not be more card games.”

  “If I might,” Eva said, speaking over the din, “I propose we have a ball.”

  “Bravo!” Lord Dorsey said immediately, smiling at his pretty wife. “When will it begin, my dear?”

  “In two hours. That should give everyone enough time to change and make ready.”

  And with those words, dinner was all but over. The ladies were anxious to return to their rooms and dress, and the gentlemen were only too happy to savor their port in silence.

  A few minutes before the ball was to begin, Holly opened her door to Eva’s knock. The lady wore a different deep green gown with long sleeves and festive red ribbons. Holly wished her own dress was as pretty.

  “How pretty you look!” Eva exclaimed. “That blue matches your eyes.”

  “Thank you.” The sapphire dress with the silver thread woven throughout was her best. She had brought it, hoping for a chance to wear it for Lord Ivy. “Does my hair look well? Bell says it looks fashionable swept over my shoulder this way, but I fear I should have had her put it all up.”

  Holly’s hair was a muddy dark blond, but in the right candlelight it might pass for honey-blond.

  Eva patted her hand. “Bell has a good eye. Leave it as it is. Now, I have a surprise for you.”

  Holly raised her brows.

  “It’s a good surprise, goose! I asked Lord Ivy to dance the first dance with you.”

  Holly gasped. Her gown suddenly felt too tight. “Why?”

  “He didn’t ask why. He merely agreed.”

  Holly’s face felt warm and her head spun as though she’d drank a glass of wine too quickly. “I’ll probably faint from being that close to him.”

  Eva gave her a stern look. “You’ll do no such thing. Smile and ask about his plans for Christmas.” She leaned close to Holly. “Try to steer him under the mistletoe so you might steal a kiss!”

  Holly’s face flushed hotter. “You are incorrigible!”

  “You love me for it!” And linking her arm with Holly’s, Eva led her down to the ballroom.

  ADAM USUALLY ONLY ATTENDED balls when his mother cajoled him. As a viscount, and a young eligible one at that, he certainly had his pick of invitations. But he preferred other pursuits, usually those involving horses. In fact, he’d had to dress for this ball quickly as he’d spent too much time in the stables checking on his horses and ensuring they were warm enough and well-tended.

  Now he stood in the ballroom with the other men, watching as the string quartet tuned their instruments. He didn’t know where Lady Dorsey had found them, but he suspected that whatever Lady Dorsey wanted, Lady Dorsey received. He certainly hadn’t considered denying her request to dance with Mrs. Farthing. Standing here now, waiting for the ladies to arrive, he half wished he had denied it. He felt unexpectedly short of breath when he thought of dancing with Holly. It was ridiculous. He’d known her since she was a child, and now she was no innocent. She was a widow.

  But these past few days he hadn’t seen her as a friend or a widow. She was a pretty young woman with large blue eyes, dark blond hair, and full, pink lips. How had he never noticed how ripe those lips were for kissing? How had he failed to observe that little Holly was not so little anymore?

  The ballroom door opened, and Lady Dorsey entered with Holly beside her. Though Adam had expected to see her, his heart still clenched in his chest. She was so lovely. Her skin glowed warmly under the lights of the chandelier and her cheeks were pink with excitement. He tried not to look at her eyes, but to focus elsewhere proved dangerous as her dress accented the lovely curves of her body. He almost missed the scrawny child she’d been.

  Almost.

  Lady Dorsey caught his eye and Adam forced his feet to move. He crossed the ballroom and bowed to Lady Dorsey and then Holly. “My lady. Mrs. Farthing. Mrs. Farthing, may I have the pleasure of dancing the first dance with you?”

  “Of course.” Holly’s voice was breathless, as though she’d been running, but he suspected the real reason was that she had always been rather shy. Edward and he had enjoyed teasing her until she forgot her shyness and teased them back. But Adam wasn’t sure how to tease her now.

  Lord and Lady Dorsey began the dancing with a waltz. Adam stood beside Holly watching, and when the time was appropriate, he led her to the center of the dance floor. A few other couples followed, but he had plenty of space to twirl her about.

  She was an excellent dancer, which meant he was free to enjoy the dance all the more. And he was free to enjoy the feel of his hand on her waist and the way she looked up at him with those wide blue eyes.

  “How is it we’ve never danced before, Mrs. Farthing?”

  “I suppose you never asked before, my lord.”

  He groaned. “What do you say to putting aside the formalities during this dance? I’ve known you since you could barely toddle about. Might I call you Holly and you call me Adam?”

  She looked down. “I suppose we might.” She caught his gaze and then looked away again.

  “If I’m not mistaken, your given name is Harriet. Why are you called Holly?” he asked.

  “Edward always had trouble with his Rs, and when I was born, he called me Hollyet.” She made her voice sound like a child’s. “The name stuck.”

  “I’d never heard that story.”

  “I don’t suppose Edward would tell you as it makes him look too adorable.”

  He chuckled. “No, I suppose not.”

  There was a moment of silence and then her bright blue eyes met his. “I was no toddler when we first met.”

  “No?” he asked, not really remembering.

  “No. I was six when Edward went to school and the two of you met.”

  “Practically all grown up then,” he teased.

  “Old enough to wish I were a boy.”

  That made him laugh. “Why? So you might go to school and sit through hours of Latin before being thrashed by boys twice your size? I always envied my sisters.”

  “And I imagine they envied you your freedom. When you and Edward were at Rose Abbey you would disappear for hours, climbing trees and running barefoot in the fields
. How I wished I could do the same.” Her color was high, but he still noted when the pink in her cheeks deepened to red.

  He could not recall her ever speaking so much, and he enjoyed the sound of her voice.

  “Do you remember the time you and Edward went for a swim in the pond?”

  There had been too many times for him to remember but one, and he said so.

  “The time you climbed out and couldn’t find your clothing.”

  That he did remember. They’d had to sneak back to the house and hide in the outbuildings until a servant fetched them trousers. “Don’t tell me you had something to do with that.”

  She ducked her head.

  “Why, you little scamp. We never even suspected you. You seemed the perfect angel.”

  “I fear you didn’t know me very well at all, Adam.” Her eyes were downcast as she said it, but her words belied her shyness. Clearly, when one infiltrated that shyness, she was a different person.

  He liked the sound of his name on her lips. “Clearly not, Holly.”

  The dance was ending, and he found himself disappointed. He’d enjoyed speaking with her and dancing with her. It had been effortless, not like most of the balls he attended, where he forced himself to think of banal topics on which to converse.

  He led Holly from the dance floor. “Allow me to fetch you some refreshment.”

  “Champagne, please,” she said.

  He nodded and left to find a footman. When he returned, she’d moved away from the row of chairs where he’d left her, closer to a window in the back of the ballroom. He presented her with the champagne then blinked in surprise as she downed it in one gulp.

  “Thirsty?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Aren’t you a bit cold all the way over here?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I like it here.”

  “Why is that?”

  Her gaze traveled upward and for the first time he noticed the mistletoe hanging above them. His breath caught. She was right. He didn’t know her very well because he certainly hadn’t expected her to angle for a kiss.

  And he certainly hadn’t expected to want to kiss her as much as he did.

  She began to move away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  But he caught her arm gently. “Why not? It’s Christmas.” He drew her closer. “May I?”

  She nodded, eyes huge, lips slightly parted. Somewhere, the quartet played and people danced, but he didn’t hear anything but the sound of his heart thudding in his chest. It was one kiss. A kiss at Christmas didn’t mean anything.

  And that’s what he thought right until the moment his lips brushed hers.

  HOLLY COULDN’T BREATHE as Adam pulled her into his arms. She was dimly aware of the music surrounding them, the movement of couples twirling about in her periphery, the scent of evergreens, and that sprig of mistletoe hanging above them.

  And then she knew nothing but the feel of Adam’s arms. They were strong and firm. She felt safe in them, as she’d always known she would. She felt like she’d been waiting for this moment since she’d been six years old—though her expectations now were a bit different than they had been at six.

  He bent and brushed his lips over hers, and the eyes she had closed opened in surprise. Warmth radiated from her lips, making her whole body aware of the contact. Her skin tingled and flushed, and she had the urge to pull him close, to kiss him more passionately.

  But before she might act on impulse and behave in a way unbecoming to a young lady, his hand tightened on her back. She thought he might grasp her firmly and kiss her in the way she longed he would—his lips slanting over hers until she was dizzy with desire.

  Instead, he stepped back, looking down at her with a mixture of shock and...anger?

  “I’m sorry,” he said, stepping back again. “It was meant to be a kiss between friends.”

  She blinked at him in confusion. “You have nothing to apologize for.” The kiss had been chaste. Far more chaste than she had wanted.

  “Your servant, Mrs. Farthing.” He took her hand, bent to kiss it, and then moved away. Holly was left alone under the mistletoe, her cheeks burning with shame.

  It had been a mistake to get her hopes up. Why had she listened to Eva? Why had she allowed her to play matchmaker and solicit Adam to dance the first dance with her? It was obvious he was just being kind. He didn’t want her. She would always be his friend’s little sister. Nothing more.

  Three

  A footman passed with a tray of champagne, and Holly snatched a glass and drank it down, moving out from under the mistletoe. As she made her way to the corner of the room, she grasped another glass of champagne while she stood against the wall, decorating the walls as she had when she’d been younger.

  She’d forgotten those awful nights as a wallflower. At balls she had prayed a man would ask her to dance and then prayed one wouldn’t. She could never think of anything witty or entertaining to say when she danced, and awkward silence was the hallmark of any set she accepted.

  In those days she’d had a chaperone who had limited her to one glass of champagne a night. She was a widow with no chaperone now. She could drink as much as she liked. The champagne made her forget her embarrassment, made it easier to watch Adam dancing with one woman and then another as the night wore on.

  “There you are!”

  Holly looked over and into Eva’s concerned eyes. “Here I am,” she said, giggling a bit at the way her words sort of slurred together.

  “I have been looking for you for the past half hour. What are you doing all the way over here?”

  Holly looked around. She was sitting beside a heavy velvet drapery, almost obscured by it, in fact. “I’m decorating the walls,” she said. It sounded rather amusing when she said it aloud, and she giggled again.

  “You are foxed!” her friend said in surprise. “How much have you drunk?”

  “I don’t know.” Holly looked at the little collection of champagne glasses she’d gathered about her. “One, two, four. Wait, that’s not right.”

  Eva took her arm. “Never mind that. You had better go to bed before anyone sees you.” This was her house party, and Holly knew Eva took her duties as hostess seriously. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

  “You shouldn’t leave the ball.”

  Eva dragged her out of the ballroom and into the foyer where the grand staircase ascended toward the upper floors. “What happened?” Eva asked at the base of the stairs. “I saw you dancing with Ivy. Did he say something that upset you?”

  Ivy—Adam. The pain lanced through her, and it was as fresh as the first time. Where was her champagne? “Nothing like that,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. She did not want to cry. The last thing she needed tonight was more pity.

  “Then what is wrong?”

  “I—He—” How to explain? How to make Eva—the beautiful, wealthy, and happily married Lady Dorsey—understand what it was to be plain, shy, widowed Mrs. Farthing? Eva loved her and wanted everyone else to love her as well. But if Adam was kind to her and danced with her, it was only because he was polite or felt some loyalty to his friend and her older brother.

  “My lady.” The housekeeper bustled out from the servants’ door near the stairs. “There’s a problem with the tart. Cook says it’s come out dry.”

  Eva’s hands went to her cheeks. “Oh, no.”

  “Cook has some a sauce she might add, but she wanted you to taste it first.”

  “Of course. I’ll speak with her at once. There must be some way to salvage the supper.” She started away and then seemed to remember Holly. She turned back. “Oh, but Holly. Can you wait just a moment, dear? I’ll be right back.”

  Holly forced herself to smile and nod. “I think I’ll go lie down. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Yes. I’ll come to you first thing in the morning. I’ll have Cook send up some tea.”

  Holly watched her hurry away, knowing Cook would be far too busy to send tea to an in
ebriated guest.

  She turned and started up the stairs, but on the third or fourth stair, she must have forgotten to lift her skirts because she stumbled and only prevented a fall by catching the railing and holding it tightly.

  “Do you need some help, Mrs. Farthing?”

  She looked down to see Lord Haggerston coming toward the stairs. He was a man of fifty or so with a bushy mustache and a permanently red nose. He held a flask in one hand, and she wondered if he had stepped out of the ball to drink from its contents. Under normal circumstances, she might have frowned upon his drinking, but she was in no position to throw stones at glass houses.

  “Thank you, my lord, but I am fine,” she said carefully, trying not to slur any words.

  “Going to bed so soon?” he asked, ignoring her words and starting up the stairs behind her. Holly lifted her skirts and continued upward.

  “I’m tired.”

  “Is that what they call it these days?” He was right behind her, and she jumped when she felt his fingers pinch her bottom.

  “My lord!” She whirled around so quickly her head spun.

  “Sorry!” He held up his hands. “Shouldn’t have done that.” He gave her a smile that was probably intended to charm but made her uneasy instead.

  Holly did not think him sorry at all. In fact, she wanted to be away from him as quickly as possible. They’d not spoken at all this past week, but she’d seen the way his eyes watched some of the other women. She knew he was Lord Dorsey’s neighbor, but she hadn’t liked that he was at the party.

  “My lord, I think you should return to the ball.”

  He smiled again and this time his smile was that of a predator. “I must fetch something from my chambers. Lady Haggerston sent me. I can’t return empty handed, you know?”

 

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