A Match Made in Mistletoe
Giles had heard enough. He turned and trudged toward the great hall and an evening that promised to be pure torture.
Chapter Six
* * *
As soon as Serena returned to the great hall, her sisters commandeered her to play the piano. Belinda and Mary had both taken their turns, and now they joined the dancing as if they were carefree girls, instead of wives and mothers.
Luckily Serena’s fingers were so familiar with the quadrilles and cotillions and reels that they didn’t betray her distraction. After those disturbing moments in Giles’s arms, she welcomed a chance to restore her composure. Moments as disturbing in their way as this afternoon’s passionate kisses.
During recent days, she’d felt like a stranger in her own skin. Dancing with Giles, she’d felt as if at last she was in the right place.
Then her mother had interrupted them, and Giles had left her, and she was back to feeling lost and unhappy.
After far too long, she felt enough herself to glance up from her music. Under the boughs of Christmas greenery that decorated the hall, her parents were dancing together, looking like April and May despite over thirty years of marriage. Frederick and the bailiff’s pretty daughter made eyes at each other over the punchbowl. Belinda and Mary and their husbands had paused for breath near the refreshments table.
Inevitably her eyes found Giles. He swung the vicar’s plump chatterbox of a wife in a wild circle that left her gasping, before he set her under the kissing bough for a peck on the cheek. Since he’d returned to the party, Giles had made a point of partnering the older women and shy girls. She began to suspect that a wide streak of kindness lurked beneath Giles Farraday’s worldly ennui.
As she played the end of the reel, Serena smiled at him. When he smiled back, her heart took a disconcerting swoop, and the breath jammed in her throat. Her fingers stumbled, and she blushed at her clumsiness.
“How’s my girl tonight?” Paul slid onto the long piano bench beside her.
Usually when Paul singled her out, she was overjoyed. He was such a golden god of a man, any mere mortal felt blessed in his presence. So why tonight did his self-assurance strike a false note? As though the words were right, but the man speaking them was not.
“Am I your girl?” she asked in a cool tone, beginning a jig and hitting true notes from one end of the keyboard to the other.
“Of course you are.” He put his arm around her. “You’ve always been my girl, and you always will be.”
She twisted her shoulders, finding his touch oppressive and his confidence grating. Although nowhere near as grating as the sight of Giles dancing with that hussy Letty Duggan.
“I’m trying to play the piano, Paul.” She struggled to hide her irritation.
She must have succeeded. Paul didn’t notice. Nor did he take his arm away. “I’ve hardly seen you since I arrived.”
“You know what pandemonium it is when everyone’s here for Christmas.”
Giles smiled at Letty as if she shone brighter than the stars. Serena struck a sour note. She quickly brought the piece to an end—and felt like cheering when Giles escorted Letty back to her mother and sister.
“I’ll take over, if you like,” Mary said, bustling across. “You’re getting tired.”
“You mean I’m playing as if I’ve got ten thumbs.”
“I didn’t like to say that.” Her sister cast Paul an approving glance. “It’s time you two danced. No need to take your duties to extremes, Serena.”
“I do like your sister,” Paul said with a laugh, as he drew Serena to her feet and onto the floor.
It shouldn’t rankle that he hadn’t asked her if she wanted to dance. Nor should it rankle that Giles lingered chatting with the Duggans. When Letty’s tinkling laugh rang out, Serena hid a scowl. The local belle wore a dress Serena hadn’t seen before. That shade of green didn’t suit Letty’s complexion. In fact, her color was quite muddy.
“Serena, I’m saying I like your sister,” Paul said, and Serena realized she was woolgathering. Which had never happened before in his company.
“She likes you, too,” Serena said, lining up for a quadrille. She wondered why she didn’t wish it was a waltz. Whirling around the room, clasped tight in Paul’s arms, had always been her definition of bliss.
Until she’d kissed Giles…
“I hope the whole family likes me.” Taking her hand to walk up the line, he sent her a meaningful look. “Including you.”
“You know we all like you,” she said lightly, wondering why she wasn’t in alt to be his partner. This Christmas, she spent a cursed l
ot of time wondering, and she didn’t enjoy it one bit.