She glanced over at Finn, who was now immersed in a paper, despite the fact that it was probably days old.
Before she could decide whether he was aware of her or not, she was distracted again. Hortense appeared, looking particularly bright in a lace-edged, flounced morning dress in a blush-pink tint. She drank down a cup of tea, all while looking around the room. She saw Camellia and made her way over.
“Good day, dear. Have your cares eased now that you are tucked away in the castle with me and all my friends?”
Camellia smiled. “There are more people here than I thought.”
“Oh, I never know when to stop the invitations. Papa says they’ll eat us out of house and home. But what is the point of roasting a whole pig if there aren’t enough people to eat it?”
“Wise words.” Camellia tried to not laugh.
“Besides, it’s fun to play chess with you all as pieces. Do you want to be matched to anyone? I’ll do my best to champion your cause.”
Camellia blushed, and admitted in a low voice, “My stepfather has been pressuring me to accept a proposal.” She told Hortense all that happened, including the threat to take her inheritance.
Her friend was suitably horrified. “Oh, dear. Some ladies could meet and marry a man within a month, but not you! He must be joking, or trying to goad you into beginning a search.”
“We shall see,” Camellia replied grimly.
“I must find you someone. What do you think of Mr Townsend, by the way?”
Camellia paused, wondering if her intent to pursue him was too obvious. “I think he’s…sweet. What do you think?”
Hortense said, “He’s jolly, isn’t he? I laugh every time he says one of his odd little comments. He’s the most eligible of the gentlemen here, of course. Papa was taken with his title. But I like him, title or no. You must not fret, Lia. I will find you an exciting, wealthy man.”
“Speaking of exciting, what made you so interested in the ghost story you told last night?”
“I heard the tale growing up. My grandmother told it often…she said she had seen the Welsh Ghost several times when she was younger, usually when there were guests in the castle. Said the ghost scared some suitors away! I thought it would be fun to do my own telling, with a bit more flair than usual. Papa was so inspired that he’s going to tell one of his own tonight. The castle is crawling with spirits!”
“It won’t all be ghost stories, I hope.”
“Of course not. The ball on the solstice will be lively enough! We’re expecting over a hundred people this year. And I’m planning a bit of a recital tonight. I need to find more victims though. Come with me.” Hortense rose and began asking all the guests present if they wanted to join her musical recital. Several accepted, after various degrees of cajolery and blatant flattery.
When they reached Finn, Hortense looked skeptically at him. “I don’t suppose you play or sing, Mr Ryder.”
He laughed quietly. “Me? No. But Townsend plays.” Elliot looked over, hearing his name.
“You do?” Hortense asked him. “You must show off.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Elliot said. “I should be glad to. I should play last, though.”
Hortense looked puzzled. “Why is that?”
“I don’t want to embarrass anyone who follows me.”
Camellia’s eyebrows rose. Elliot’s wide, innocent gaze made it impossible to tell if he was joking or merely overconfident. Finn’s amused expression didn’t help resolve the issue.
So Camellia just said, “I look forward to hearing you. I’ve always been fond of Mozart, myself.”
Elliot nodded. “I am as well.” He beamed at her. “But can I impress you, Miss Swift? We shall see.”
Finn lost his smile at that exchange, and returned to his newspaper. Camellia resolutely didn’t look at him again.
The guests enjoyed a day of diversions. After breakfast, a small group took a long walk outside, where the snow had drifted into gentle hills and valleys over the ground, and piled up into sheltered corners. It was a veritable winter wonderland, transformed by ice.
Camellia joined the walkers gladly, and was pleased when Elliot joined too. He stayed beside her, though he was careful to pay due attention to Hortense, as hostess of the gathering. Camellia was forced to reevaluate Elliot. She’d considered him a bit awkward, but he now displayed a much stronger acumen for people.
Finn tagged along with the group, but he stayed at a distance, as if unwilling to commit himself. Still flummoxed by his audacious kiss in the library, Camellia did her best to ignore him.
