“Well, Olivia is convinced she sensed a frisson between you, and she is determined to encourage that. She also thinks the only reason Giles turned up last night was because of you…”
Had he? That was intriguing… “Oh, for pity’s sake!” The admonishment was as much for Diana’s own foolish romantic musings as her sister’s theory. “When are you all going to get it through your thick heads that I have no interest in Giles?” She glared at the mistletoe. All so strategically placed it would be near impossible to avoid it. “Help me rip this down, Vee!”
“Absolutely not.” Her baby sister beamed. “Two footmen were dispatched to Covent Garden this morning to fetch it all, and poor Payne has been hanging it for an hour. It would be disrespectful to undo all their hard work.”
Diana narrowed her eyes at the Judas. “You are in cahoots with Olivia. You are betraying your own flesh and blood for that meddlesome woman! Your own sister!”
Vee grinned again, unrepentant. “So is Minerva. She is supervising Hugh and Jeremiah while they decorate the dining room. Olivia wants it all done before Giles arrives.”
“Oh, I see.” Her hands went to her hips. “This is a family-wide conspiracy.”
“It’s just a bit of mistletoe, Diana.”
“It is not just a bit of mistletoe!” It was coercion. Manipulation. Temptation at every turn to succumb to another one of Giles’smuch-too-potent kisses when she still wasn’t over the last. “If you will not help, I shall do it myself!”
Diana marched into the drawing room and was about to drag a chair into the hallway to do just that when the bell rang and Giles arrived.
“Giles!” Vee’s delight as she welcomed him sealed her fate, because everyone else suddenly came running. Hands were shook, cheeks were kissed, and they all lingered in the stupid hallway so long they made it awkward that she hadn’t gone to greet him, so with gritted teeth, she did, ensuring she kept him at least six feet away with one eye on the ceiling at all times.
“Merry Christmas, Giles.”
“Diana…” He seemed so relieved to see her that everyone else smiled with mischievous delight. “Merry Christmas.”
Because nobody else spoke, she had to. “Perfect timing, as always, for luncheon is about to be served. Anyone would think you smelled it all the way from Bloomsbury.”
At Diana’s instigation they all filed behind her toward the dining room where a mountain of cold cuts and tasty treats had already been piled on the sideboard for people to help themselves. Olivia’s idea, to make this meal more convivial and casual than the formal Christmas dinner they would all eat later. Typically, despite the informality, she was somehow placed next to Giles at the table under a ball of mistletoe so large it was a wonder it hadn’t already fallen and taken some of the plaster with it.
As he sat, he whispered in her ear. “I need to talk to you.Alone.”
She snapped open her napkin and tried to hide her response with a smile. “Well, that won’t be happening today! Olivia has itin her head we need a matchmaker.” In case he had missed the glaring evidence of that, she raised her gaze skyward. “She has set traps everywhere.”
“What are you two whispering about this time and socovertly?” Olivia’s question drew everyone else’s gaze. “Or should I not ask.”
“We weren’t whispering at all, Olivia.” Giles smiled as he flicked open his own napkin, sending a waft of his spicy cologne her way. The same fragrance he had worn last night when they were huddled beneath her shawl, which had scrambled all her wits. “I was merely commenting on what a lovely spread you have put on.”
“Oh, that is a shame.” Olivia could barely contain her evil smile as she watched them over the rim of her glass. “As I was hoping it was a continuation of whatever the pair of you took half an hour to discuss last night on Lady Bulphan’s terrace. Or were you just enjoying the moonlight?”
As Diana’s cheeks threatened to heat again, Giles’s quick thinking saved them. “I cannot speak for Miss Diana, but I was on the terrace avoiding Dahlia Regis and her father. The latter seems to be laboring under the misapprehension I will take the duke’s place next to her at the altar and decided to thrust her at me at every given opportunity. She didn’t seem so keen, though, which is a relief for me, albeit an unflattering one. For who wouldn’t want this?” He pointed to his dimpled chin. “Giles Sinclair makes all the ladies swoon. I am famously irresistible.”
“And yet some of us can still resist you with little effort at all.” Her droll comment garnered a few chuckles and thankfully, the conversation shifted direction. Soon the table was filled with laughter and conversation.
For the next hour Giles remained in the thick of it, as jovial and entertaining as always, but she sensed something was off. There was a stiffness to his posture and a jerkiness to his movements that gave it away. Or at least they did to her. Nobody else seemed aware anything was amiss.
As the plates were cleared he leaned toward her. “I really do need to talk to you.” His hand reached for hers under the table, setting her nerve endings fizzing. “I am in trouble, Diana.”
“What sort?” But she already knew.
“The worst sort and I need your help.”
“Who fancies a proper game of cards?” Jeremiah rubbed his hands together at the prospect, because for him “proper” meant playing for money rather than points.
“I’m game,” said Vee, rising. “I shall fetch my purse.”
“Noooo!” said both Minerva and Hugh in unison.
“You cannot allow her to play.” Hugh grabbed Jeremiah’s arm. “Vee always wins. That girl has the luck of the Irish.”
“Even Vee has to lose sometimes.” Jeremiah narrowed his eyes at the youngest Merriwell because he knew Hugh spoke the truth. “By the law of averages she has to lose one day and I have everything crossed that it is today.”
