A beam of moonlight reflected off the shiny object Henny carried in her mouth as she scooted under a table and disappeared from sight. A shiny object that looked suspiciously like one of Eleanor’s diamond encrusted hairpins.
“Not another one!” she moaned. If she lost one more hairpin her mother would never let her go live with Aunt Biddy. “Henny, you damned thief, get back here this instant!”
Dropping to her hands and knees she tried to follow the hedgehog under the table, but of course she didn’t fit. Derriere in the air and face pressed to the ground, she squinted one eye closed as she searched for Henny underneath a chaise longue. The parlor was well appointed and there were dozens of places a hedgehog could hide, which meant if she was going to retrieve her beloved pet she needed to do it quickly. Once Henny found a soft place to burrow into there was no telling when she would come out. Last year at Lady Markham’s dinner party she’d disappeared for nearly five hours!
Lady Ward had been thrilled when Eleanor had requested to stay longer. She’d thought her daughter wanted to spend more time with a viscount, but in reality Eleanor had needed the extra time to look for Henny. She’d eventually found her in the kitchens stuffed inside a bread box happily munching on day old crumpets, but there was no telling where she’d gotten off to this time.
“Henny! Oh Henny, please come back. I’m not cross with you. I promise.” Eleanor started to back out from underneath the table, but with a gasp of dismay she realized her dress was caught. She pulled a bit harder and was met with a sharp tearing sound. Oh dear. A lost hairpin was nothing compared to a ruined gown, particularly one that had cost as much as this.
Balancing crookedly on one elbow, she tried to peer behind her to see what she was snagged on, but her awkward position made it impossible to see past her voluminous skirts. Suffice it to say she was stuck. Stuck with her rump up in the air and her head under a table.
“Well this is a fine pickle. Henny, I’ve changed my mind. I am cross with you. Very cross.” But if the mischievous hedgehog heard – or cared – she gave no indication, and Eleanor struck her fist against the floor in frustration.
What was she going to do? Wait until someone found her, she supposed. And pray that someone was a maid and not a gossipy old hen who would gleefully spread the news of her embarrassing predicament far and wide. There was always the possibility her mother would come looking for her. All things considered, that was probably the best scenario. At least she knew Lady Ward would never whisper a word of this to anyone. In fact, she would probably demand the entire thing be stricken from both of their memories, just like the time Eleanor had jumped into a pond at Hyde Park in an attempt to rescue a floundering gosling.
‘We will never speak of this again,’ Lady Ward had furiously hissed as she’d draped her cloak around her daughter’s shoulders before quickly ushering her into their carriage.
And they hadn’t.
But it wasn’t Lady Ward who stepped into the parlor.
Nor was it Lady Ward’s voice that sent shivers of alarm rippling down Eleanor’s spine.
“Well, well, well,” a deep, husky masculine tone drawled. “What do we have here?”
Regency Christmas (Holiday Collection) Page 43