Home For The Holidays

by Sherry Ewing

  Nicholas walked past the lady of his musings, but he swore he could smell the faintest hint of Grace’s perfume long after he had left the room.

  Chapter 11

  Grace sat at the dining room table across from her sister who was glaring at her with furious eyes. If the table were any narrower, Grace was positive that her shins would be bruised from Miranda kicking them to show her displeasure. It was hardly her fault that Grace was seated next to the Marquis of Aldridge, especially since she had no say in the planning for the seating at Christmas dinner. Grace had no doubt her sister would seek her out later to accuse her of purposely making such an arrangement to thwart Miranda’s attempts to bring the man to heel.

  Thus far, Miranda had failed, as Grace knew she would. Watching her sister shamelessly flirt with the marquis and following him about the room prior to dinner had been an embarrassment. Adrian had been detained elsewhere, or he would have had Miranda locked in her room for behaving so horribly. The girl had even attempted twice to bring Aldridge, then his brother, Lord Jonathan, beneath a decorated bunch of mistletoe to demand a kiss in order to keep with the holiday tradition. Her sister was going too far to win this wager, and Adrian needed to put an end to Miranda’s exploits before the poor girl got hurt or ruined.

  The gentleman next to her expelled an exasperated sigh, and she saw that Miranda was batting her eyelashes at the marquis as though she were about to take flight. Grace was not sure for whom she felt sorrier.

  “I must apologize for my sister, Lord Aldridge,” Grace declared quietly when she saw Miranda begin speaking to the gentleman to her right.

  “If you were responsible for her behavior, Lady de Courtenay, she would be as ladylike as you are yourself. I do not hold you accountable.” He seemed to realize that his tone was a little sharp because he apologized in his turn. “I beg your pardon. The correct answer, I believe, would have been, ‘not at all, Lady de Courtenay. Your sister is everything delightful.’” He sighed again.

  “You are still too kind,” Grace stated, blushing. “I will admit that part of the blame is also mine, since Miranda and I have a silly wager between us.”

  This time, the sigh was almost a groan. “A kiss?” He studied her. “No, not a kiss. A proposal? My dear Lady de Courtenay, has no one warned you that I proposition silly debutantes, I do not propose to them?”

  “I did try to warn my sister, but she is a determined young lady when she sets her mind to something… or someone.”

  He put his fair head to one side and regarded her with a gleam in his hazel eyes. Leaning a little closer, he murmured, “You are far more interesting to me than your sister, Lady de Courtenay.”

  Grace tried not to laugh, honestly she did, but she could not resist the small sound that escaped her lips. “I am afraid, my lord, that your reputation precedes you, not to mention your association with my friend Moriah.”

  Charm. He had loads of it, and Grace could understand why the rumors about him were true. What woman would not fall under that handsome devil’s spell?

  Those burning hazel eyes continued to stare at her leaving her flushed and tongue-tied. “I am hardly that interesting, my lord,” she murmured while she rushed to fill the deafening silence between them. What in the world could someone like the marquis find noteworthy in a woman like her? They hardly ran in the same circles.

  He sat back a little, and his lips curled at the corners, just a little. “That, my dear Lady de Courtenay, is because Society’s gossip gabblers protect innocents like you and your sister from knowledge about what men like me find fascinating. Even though such knowledge might protect them. An innocent widow? What a delightful challenge!” Gold glints danced in the hazel eyes as he added, “But, never fear; I will not forget I am in my mother’s house, and you are her guests. A small flirtation, perhaps? Just to annoy your sister?”

  “Your mother has been very gracious,” Grace replied kindly. “As to annoying my sister, I would like nothing better than to set her down a notch or two. She is so confident she will always get her way.” She took up her wine glass and watched the man next to her over the rim, even venturing to cast him a mischievous smile.

  “Then let me raise a glass in salute to the beauty of your eyes and the charming color that rises under your smooth and silky skin,” he purred, suiting action to word, and somehow making the act of placing his lips on the rim of the wine glass seem… Goodness. Had he just swiped his tongue across the rim?

  Grace watched the marquis in mild fascination, having never been on the receiving end of such a seduction, for lack of a better word. He seemed to be waiting for her response, but Grace could not find a reply.

  “The next step in this particular dance, Lady de Courtenay, is for you to give me your glass, and I will give you mine.” He extended his hand.

  Her eyes widened. Speechless, she handed her glass over, still in shock from his whispered words. She may have just agreed to their flirtation, but she had no idea that such an action on her part would leave her completely out of her element. This gentleman could be dangerous to an innocent’s heart. Luckily, she could attempt to play her part to ensure Miranda would see the point that the marquis was not one to play games with.

  Aldridge placed his own glass gently into the hand she still had outstretched then lifted the glass she had given him, cradling it with one long-fingered hand and caressing it with the other. “How sad,” he mourned, “that this is the closest I will come to tasting the sweet lips that so recently touched this privileged glass.” Over the rim, though, his eyes were watchful.

  A wave of heat flushed Grace’s face for she had never had a gentleman say something of this magnitude to her.

  When she remained silent, he renewed his attempts to engage her in conversation. “I take it,” he murmured, in the same seductive purr, “that your sister intends to refuse this proposal? Or has she a fancy for being a duchess?”

  She could feel another pair of eyes studying her beside her sister and dared a glance down the long table. Her thoughts were confirmed when she saw for herself that Nicholas had been watching her, and he did not appear pleased. Her heart heavy, she returned her full attention to Aldridge.

  Aldridge noticed, too. “Your suitor is watching, by the way.”

  She gave the marquis a small smile and leaned slightly closer, ensuring the scene for those who watched would appear intimate. “I suspect, my lord, that Miranda already knows she will not receive a proposal from either you or your brother. She just refuses to admit defeat.”

  “She has been buzzing around our barbarian viscount, Lord Elfingham, too,” he observed, his voice low and inviting. “Self-defeating, of course. One does so hate to be part of a crowd.”

  “As to my suitor…” She gave a light laugh. “He is certainly not mine. The gentleman in question is foolish enough to think I am already wed and refuses to listen to any explanation I attempt to make to remedy the situation.”

  Aldridge raised a brow. “Indeed? I sense a story! Will you not share, Lady de Courtenay?”

  Grace leaned even closer to whisper in his ear. “We met briefly several months back at the very same masquerade where you and I were introduced. I was pleasantly surprised to come across him here for the holiday festivities. I went to introduce him to my brother, but the moment I said his name, the man left before I could finish and tell him who the gentleman was. Men can be such fools, present company excluded, of course.” She sat back in her chair and reached for her wine glass again.

  Aldridge chuckled. “Present company by no means excluded. When our loins… er, our hearts become involved, sense goes out the window. Do not doubt it, my dear Lady de Courtenay. Has he managed to miss the flirtation going on between your supposed husband and Lady Celia? Or does he not regard it?”

  “I believe my brother, Adrian, has been playing his part whenever they are in the same room. I am not sure if Adrian’s purpose is to annoy me or Nicholas Lacey. He finds the situation most amusing.”

 
“Your brother does not approve of Lacey?” Aldridge raised both brows. “I know nothing to his discredit.” His mouth quirked at the corner again, and his eyes creased in amusement. “And I would know, I assure you.”

  “It is not that Adrian disapproves of the man so much as he does not approve of the lengths I have gone to attempt to explain the situation to Nicholas. My brother feels that if the gentleman will not take the time to listen to my explanation, then he does not deserve me. That I went to Lord Nicholas’s room so he would have no other option than to listen to me almost sent my brother to call the man out.” Grace gulped, her eyes darting to those nearby to ensure no one overhead what she just spilled out. “Good heavens! I have no idea why I just confessed such to you. What you must think of me!” When Aldridge only studied her, she continued, “Lord Nicholas has been avoiding me ever since.”

  Aldridge leaned toward her and murmured in her ear, “Flirting, then, is perhaps not the best idea. Not if he thinks you are a faithless wife endeavoring to tempt him from the path of virtue.” He sat back, and, though his eyes were still merry, he had composed the rest of his face to appear sympathetic. “I am, despite appearances and reputation, a safe confidante, my dear.”

  “My lord, I─”

  “And if you escaped his bedchamber unkissed, Lady de Courtenay, given the way the man’s eyes follow you around the room, he is a bloodless creature and not worthy of your regard.”

  She gazed at Aldridge shyly and leaned forward again. “Well, my lord, since I am confessing, I did not say that I left unkissed, but perhaps you are correct that flirting with you may not be in my best interest, although I have enjoyed this brief interlude. I can understand why Moriah and the ladies speak your name with such… enthusiasm.” As he remained silent, she added, “I once again apologize for my sister’s conduct and hope you will not think too unkindly of her or me. She is young, and our parents spoiled her before they passed away. When I placed our silly bet, I had no idea that she would think to set her sights on you and your brother of all people.”

  “Ah. It was just an anonymous male who was to propose, was it? Anyone would do? You did not answer my question, Lady de Courtenay. Is your sister looking for a husband or just for a proposal? Your answer will guide my response, you understand.”

  She stole another glance at her Miranda, who stared back at her with cold, hard eyes. “I suppose our conversation did get away from me, but, as for your answer, she is only looking for a proposal in order to win our wager, my lord. I do not believe she has intention of getting married at this time. I am sure our flirtations will only further her attempts to elicit an offer from you. I know she can be trying, but I would be grateful if you would handle the situation as delicately as possible. I know I am asking much, particularly since we are mostly strangers, but I would appreciate your discretion, along with keeping what I have told you about my situation with Lord Nicholas between us,” Grace added with a worried frown.

  Aldridge was smiling at his own thoughts, his eyes twinkling. “My discretion can always be relied on, Lady de Courtenay. Even my worst detractors say this, so it must be true. I will say nothing about our discussion to Lord Nicholas. And I promise not to hurt your sister, though a little surprise would not go amiss, I think.” He continued speaking, but clearly to himself, “Yes. Gren will play along, and perhaps… No. Best keep it to the two of us.”

  “You are a true gentleman, Lord Aldridge, but I think I will keep that secret to myself as well. I would not want your reputation to suffer,” Grace admitted. She could only speculate about what was in store for her sister in the coming days. “The less I know of what you and your brother have planned for my sister is perhaps for the best.”

  His lips twitched again. “You are undoubtedly right! Would it be helpful if I referred to your brother as your brother rather loudly in Lacey’s presence?”

  “Hopefully, Lord Nicholas can work the situation out for himself. Why else would I dress as Diana and my brother Apollo during the costume ball if we were not related as brother and sister? However, if you feel inclined to drop a few hints around the stubborn man, I suppose it would not hurt.”

  “Consider it done.” He picked up her hand and raised it to his lips, dropping a kiss just above the skin, but so close she could feel the heat of his breath. “To seal the bargain.”

  She raised her glass in a toast once Aldridge released her hand. “Consider our bargain properly sealed, my lord.”

  Chapter 12

  The grand ballroom at Hollystone Hall was filled with all manner of costumes. From kings and queens, to pirates and bar wenches, to Roman gladiators and their ladies, to gods and their goddesses, there was no end to the costumes that people wore to the gathering. A young lady scantily dressed as a Greek goddess flitted across the room to accost a gentleman dressed as a pirate. She had been chasing after several gentlemen for the past two days. Her behavior was deplorable in her quest to whatever ends only the young woman knew for sure. Nicholas had recently learned from his niece Celia that she was Lord de Courtenay’s younger sister.

  For two days, he had been in a conundrum he was unsure how to fix. Christmas dinner had been torture like none he had ever felt before when he had to sit idly by while watching Grace and the marquis flirt with one another over their meal. When they had exchanged glasses, Nicholas had to suppress the urge to jump across the table and pull the two of them apart. What was she doing making a spectacle of herself? She was a married woman after all, and why did he continue to care what she did whenever she appeared in the room? Perhaps such behavior ran in the family.

  He became aware that de Courtenay’s sister was about to get into trouble when she made her way across the room to accost her next victims. Two tall, fair-haired men, un-costumed except one wore a white mask and the other a black, were deep in conversation when she interrupted them. One of the gentlemen casually leaned against a pillar as they listened to whatever she was saying. If it were her ploy to pursue them, Nicholas could not say, but he knew the tables turned quite suddenly on the unsuspecting young woman when both men bent to whisper in each of her ears. Nicholas saw the situation for what it was and knew this would not end well.

  It was no concern to him what happened, or so Nicholas told himself, but when he watched the trio move to a secluded corner of the room, he was just about to intervene on the young woman’s behalf. Before he reached them, the air rushed from his lungs, and he knew Grace was near. He turned around in the direction of the entryway, and there she was dressed like the goddess Diana, and looking every bit the part of the divine creature he knew her to be. At least she was not in some shocking attire that exposed more of her body, like the statue he had seen in the gardens of Hollystone or like the scandalous Miss de Courtenay.

  Nicholas followed Grace’s movements as she entered the ballroom. Her gown flowed behind her, and she had a small bow slung over her shoulder, just large enough to confirm her character. Sandals adorned her feet and peeked from the edges of her gown when she walked, no, glided into the room. Surely this woman was a gift from heaven itself as she stepped among God’s angels and graced mere mortals with her presence here on earth.

  Grace took a glass of wine from a servant who passed by. She surveyed the room, a small smile lighting her face when she observed her sister and the two gentlemen in the corner. Nicholas frowned. Such a reaction was not what he expected, nor was Grace’s gesture of slightly raising her glass in a silent toast to the men after her sister bolted from the room, clearly upset.

  With a nod, she ended her silent acknowledgement of the pair and strolled in the direction of her husband. Nicholas frowned. Was he mistaken when he guessed the gentleman to be dressed as Apollo? Portraying a brother and sister was a strange choice for a husband and wife. Grace tugged on her husband’s attire until he leaned down so she could whisper in his ear. The couple then proceeded to have cross words with one another before Lord de Courtenay fled the room.

  “Lady de Courtenay’s broth
er certainly has his hands full keeping their foolish little sister out of trouble,” stated a gentleman who was walking behind Nicholas.

  He turned slightly at the mention of Grace’s name and saw the two men in the white and the black masks. They were looking at the door through which Grace’s husband had just left the room.

  “Lord de Courtenay may need to lock Miss de Courtenay in her room for the remainder of their stay lest the girl do something even more asinine than pursuing the pair of us,” the other responded with a groan. “We may have just been playing a game to teach the young lady to be careful what she offers and to whom, but other men of our acquaintance would have no issue compromising her and leaving her ruined. I tell you, Gren, I am tired of all these debutantes constantly scheming to be the next duchess. My reputation is meant to scare them off!”

  “I believe we made our point, Aldridge.”

  Aldridge chuckled. “Indeed. I doubt she will continue throwing herself at us.”

  Nicholas watched their retreating backs before returning his attention toward Grace, who was now speaking with his niece, Elinor. Brother? What the bloody hell? For the love of God, could he have been so mistaken about the lady?

  When Elinor excused herself and made her way to her mother’s side, Nicholas went to her. Surely she would be able to put an end to this mystery.

  “I do not know why I chose to be Queen Elizabeth, Mother. However did they manage with these contraptions underneath their skirts? I swear I am constantly in fear I will knock over a table every time I turn.”

  “May I have a moment of your time, Elinor?” Nicholas quietly interrupted whatever Caroline was about to answer. He took his niece’s elbow and escorted her to a nearby alcove where they would not be overheard.

  Elinor hurried to keep up with his pace. “I hardly have more than a few minutes, Uncle. I am still ensuring the servants have everything under control for the party tonight.”