Page 29 of Waiting for Love

Crispin drew in a breath, then made a mocking bow. “As you wish, Iversley. My intention is to attend church services in the morning. Then eat Christmas supper with my loving family. After that, my plans depend upon the weather. May I take my leave now?”

Jasper stood aside. “I only half trust you are telling the truth.”

Crispin left, laughing. All the energy went out of the room with him.

Georgiana got up, pushing a fist to her back. “I’m afraid I must retire also.”

Reg jumped to his feet, ready to assist.

Miss Jamison said, “Hannah is fair worn out. Thank you, for including us—”

“Is she sleeping? I’ll carry her,” Benjamin said, rising quickly. His arm brushed Olivia’s. Had he done it on purpose? Or might he think she had?

They all shuffled about, saying their goodnights. Olivia walked down the corridor of the family’s wing alongside Alice until they reached Alice’s door. She seemed as pensive as Olivia felt, though surely, they had different reasons.

As Alice put a hand to her door, she murmured, “Merry Christmas,” in a tone that was anything but merry.

Olivia couldn’t bear to see her downcast on Christmas Eve. Since they were now alone, she asked, “Alice, did Miss Jamison’s story disturb you?”

She looked confused for a moment, then shook her head. “Oh, that. Momentarily.”

“But you won’t be a nanny—”

Alice drew back and laughed a bit indignantly. “Well, I might, but I wasn’t disturbed for myself. It’s that this is the plight of so many women.” Then she tossed her head. “It’s not something you could ever fathom. If the impossible were to happen and you don’t marry, your brothers will fight over who gets to take you in, not who must support you.” Her expression turned abashed. “I’m sorry to speechify. If I seem deficient in holiday spirit, it has nothing to do with Miss Jamison.”

“Then—”

“It’s just that when Crispin arrived, I thought for a moment it might be Hazard.” Stunned, Olivia gaped, and Alice laughed. “I know, I know! It’s Crispin! I’m not disappointed to see him. But I’ve been wanting to talk to Hazard.” She sniffed. “I can’t write to him, obviously, which is ridiculous.” Glancing away, she drew in a deep breath, then sighed. “Well. Crispin will do. Merry Christmas, Olivia.” She opened her door and went into her chamber.

“Merry Christmas.” Olivia stood another moment, regarding the closing door. Then she snorted. Crispin would do?

Chapter Eleven

What a bizarre Christmas Eve, Benjamin thought, still ruminating on the events of the previous night. The Taverstons never failed to amaze. How on earth had Crispin known of Georgiana’s unusual talent? Good at puzzles? An absurd understatement. Yet the only one who had not been surprised had been Reg.

At least the drama had kept the attention off him, seeing as he could not keep his where it belonged. He felt he’d spent the entire evening staring at Olivia, leaning close, captivated by the festive perfume of seasonal greenery and cinnamon that seemed to cling to her.

The weather on Christmas morning was abysmal, with sleet rather than snow. Benjamin wondered if Crispin could be stranded at Chaumbers after all. Wellington might be peeved, but it would make a nice Christmas present for Olivia. For all of the Taverstons.

Because of the cold and wet, they were taking carriages to church instead of walking the two miles into the village. The earl’s coach carried the family while Benjamin, Hannah, and Miss Jamison followed in a slightly humbler conveyance. Crispin joined them since the earl’s coach could only fit so many. Just before they started off, Alice rapped on the carriage door. A footman opened it and handed her up, bringing in the scent of lavender. She slid onto the bench beside Crispin, a determined expression on her face.

For a moment, Benjamin wondered if she was pursuing the captain. Crispin, for all his married-to-the-army status, was a well-to-do brother of an earl—and currently Jasper’s heir. Alice’s launch into Society had thus far been disappointing, from what Benjamin understood. He wasn’t sure why. True, her dowry was whispered to be minuscule, but there were enough men who might overlook that if the girl was well-connected and attractive, which Alice was. Her brown hair had a soft, touchable appearance and she had lively green eyes. Moreover, if she were to dress to better enhance her assets, she could easily find beaux.

As she leaned toward Crispin, he appeared to pull back nervously. Which was interesting.

“Captain Taverston,” she said, her eyes rather piercingly fixed upon him, “I have some questions for you.”

“I do not wish to be interrogated, Miss Fogbotham. It is Christmas. No questions.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I suppose you believe ladies are only ever allowed to make silly pleasant conversation.”

“That would be welcome,” Crispin said. His body remained rigid.

Alice harumphed. The next moment, a transformation came over her face. The intelligence of her usual expression dissolved, replaced by an insipid softness. Her eyes widened. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she even pushed back her shoulders to draw eyes to her bosom.

“Captain Taverston,” she simpered, “I have been informed that you waltz exquisitely. Do you know, my dance card for this evening is not entirely full?”

It was a very apt imitation of a ton flirt.