One Winter's Night - Page 37

Encouraged by Lady Denham, who’d had a little too much sherry, and Lara’s equally tipsy grandfather, Miss Harper sent a footman to find a suitable bow

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Lara ventured over to the earl who’d checked the mantel clock almost as many times as he’d pulled his watch from his pocket.

“Does your mother always approach parlour games with such intense excitement?”

“I believe she finds your grandfather’s energetic spirit somewhat infectious.”

“Montague approaches most things with a certain panache. None more so than a party.”

Lord Denham cast her a sidelong glance and his warm gaze slid smoothly from her face to the neckline of her midnight-blue dress. “Penelope has laughed more this evening than in the last thirty years. It’s a joy to see.” He looked back as the other guests listened with fascination to one of Montague’s funny stories. “And I have to admire a man who’s willing to cast aside his bitterness and embrace a new beginning.”

Mistakes were the lessons of life. “Any one of us might examine our decisions and question our judgement. Had my mother not been permitted to marry so young, she might still be alive. But who would deny her the happiness of living with her one true love?”

He remained quiet for a moment, lost in thought.

“And in your unwillingness to deny your grandfather a chance of happiness,” he finally said, “you lied to me, Miss Bennett.”

The need to touch him proved impossible to ignore, and so she placed a comforting hand on his sleeve. “I did not lie to you—to the man I have come to respect and admire. I lied to the stranger who allowed me into his home one winter’s night with the promise of a room and a hot meal.” Indeed, it was purely a matter of perspective. “When the opportunity presented itself, I had to tell the truth.”

“The scheme might have ended in disaster,” he said as excitement in the room reached fever pitch when the footman returned with the necessary items to play the game. “Montague might not have received the reception he hoped.”

“No, it took some persuading for him to follow his heart.”

“And what of your heart, Miss Bennett? What of your dreams and aspirations?”

No one had ever asked such questions before. “Well, I shall inherit everything my grandfather owns, and so have no need to find a husband willing to take an impulsive and untamed bride.”

“Should you ever wish to marry, you’ll have no issue finding a husband. Lord Flanders might well ask for your hand once the clock strikes midnight.”

Lord Flanders!

The gentleman in question was pouring brandy into the bowl Miss Harper had placed on the side table, giggling like a schoolboy ready to play a trick on his housemaster. Though friendly and kindhearted, Lord Flanders lacked the earl’s rugged, masculine appeal.

“Why midnight?”

“Flanders must wait until I’ve made my choice before considering his own marital status.”

“And have you made a decision, my lord?” Heaven knows why she asked as she couldn’t bear to hear him speak another woman’s name.

“A man in my position must choose wisely,” came his cryptic reply. “Trust must play an important part in any relationship, Miss Bennett, although I shan’t make my choice tonight.”

She got the sense he was teasing her, but Miss Harper interrupted their conversation to drag the earl away and request he be the one to light the brandy with the taper.

“Snuff out the candles, Miss Bennett.” Miss Harper flicked her fingers as if instructing the hired help. Had Lara not seen the look of anguish on Lord Denham’s face when he realised he would be standing next to Miss Harper in the dark, she might have protested.

Lord Flanders assisted in plunging the room into blackness, and they all gathered around the table ready to take a turn at plucking out a piece of candied fruit. The eerie effect of the blue flames dancing on top of the liquor drew gasps of wonder from the female guests.

“You first, Lord Flanders,” Miss Harper insisted. “If you snatch a piece and swallow it, I’m sure one kind lady will grant you another kiss under the mistletoe. What say you, Miss Bennett?”

If Miss Harper continued with her taunts, Lara might dunk the chit’s head into the brandy bowl. “Surely a kiss from our substitute hostess is a more fitting reward.”

Everyone took their turn and played the game with good cheer. The viscount clearly misunderstood the rules. Lara had to snatch the rogue’s wandering hands off her buttocks and squeeze his fingers in a vice-like grip as a warning. It seemed his sister used the darkness to her advantage, too. Numerous times, the earl muttered beneath his breath only for the sly shrew to offer a lighthearted apology.

Lara was rather glad when the footman returned to light the candles, despite having to listen to Lord Flanders’ constant whines about his burnt tongue.

While Miss Harper tried to gather everyone around the mistletoe again, many guests expressed a wish to retire after such a long day. With an air of boredom about him, the viscount was the first to leave. Miss Venables was hot on his heels, explaining that she would check the maid had turned down Miss Harper’s bed and positioned the warming pan in just the right place to heat the toes.

Tags: Adele Clee Historical
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