Page 19 of The Gift of a Christmas Scandal

Chapter Nine

“Really Selina! What were you thinking! Or were you thinking at all? I know that you have been feeling a little closed in – as have we all, with the last few days of snow – but really – to go alone! You know better.”

“Yes Mother. I’m sorry, but I simply couldn’t resist the chance to get outside, to ride, in peace and quiet. The park is beautiful, and nothing terrible happened, after all.”

“No, but it could have- what if you had met a man? What if someone had seen you alone with a man? You might have been trapped into marriage!”

Selina clamped her lips shut, refusing to allow the laughter out, keeping her face calm and blank. That her mother should speak of being forced to marry, when that is exactly what they were trying to do to her, with Lord Hockingmoor, was beyond absurd. But she knew that her mother wouldn’t see it that way.

“Yes Mother. I will think more in future.”

Selina had not lied – nothing terrible had happened – what had happened was, instead, rather wonderful – even if her mother would not agree. She felt her cheeks flush a little as she thought of it – hopefully her mother would think it was from embarrassment from having been caught out, and nothing more.

She had ridden for far too long, and her mother had been up and pacing their rooms with worry when she had returned. For the rest of the day, she would need to be perfectly behaved, no matter how much Lord Hockingmoor drove her to distraction with his inanities. But tonight, when everyone slept… she hoped that the Duke… Alex… would find her in the library – no matter the risk. She wanted to convince him…

~~~~~

Alex looked at himself in the large mirror in his chambers. Albano had done his usual impeccable job of dressing him – the man had a talent for stylish presentation. He had been with him since Alex had first arrived in Italy, and it had been a great relief when the valet had agreed to come to England with him. Looking every bit the imposing Duke was necessary – it was armour of a sort, a shell he wore to prevent people trying to get too close to him. Not that it deflected Lady Phyllida.

Sighing, he pushed all memory of the morning by the riverside from his mind, and prepared to endure another day of his mother’s idea of an enjoyable house party. He was sure that many others were enjoying themselves, quite likely sneaking into bedrooms at night and other such activities, but for him, the whole event was drawn out torture.

As soon as he appeared in the parlour, Lady Phyllida attached herself, limpet-like, to his side. He dealt with it with as much dignity as he could, being polite through gritted teeth. But his eyes followed Lady Selina when she entered the room. He could not help himself, he found – if she was present, it was as natural as breathing to watch her. He noted, with bitter edged amusement, the moment when Lord Hockingmoor attached himself to her side, with as much tenacity as Lady Phyllida had attached herself to his.

She looked up at that point, and their eyes met. A tiny smile passed over her face for a moment, and his heart warmed as a result. Oh, to be able to spend his afternoon with her…. He turned away, leading Lady Phyllida to sit near the fire – if he was to be continuously accosted with uninteresting conversation, he would at least be comfortable. An hour or more went by, and Alex was beginning to wonder if he could, actually, manage to endure the rest of the day. The only thing that made it bearable was the promise of a clandestine meeting in the library in the depths of the night.

His mother was bustling about, arranging parlour games again, for the planned ride to the ruins was once again postponed – the clouds had rolled in again shortly after he had returned from his morning ride, and the snow was falling steadily outside. When she announced the next game, he was hard put not to groan aloud. It was a scavenger hunt, requiring that players work in pairs – pairs which would be determined by the draw of counters from a bowl. Those who received counters with matching numbers were to be paired. It would, he thought, be just his luck if he ended up with Lady Phyllida.

Still, as host, he could not refuse to play.

Everyone stood in a large circle, and his mother went around with the bowl of tokens. Once all had been drawn, everyone was to look at theirs. Lady Phyllida, beside him, turned hers over in her hand, then turned to him.

“What token do you have, Your Grace? I have the number 20.”

Alex allowed his eyes to drop to the token as he uncurled his hand. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“I have number 13, my Lady”

“Oh!”

Her face fell, and she looked around the room, wondering who she was partnered with. People began to mill about, comparing tokens. There was the occasional exclamation as people found their partners. Soon, the number of people paired up was greater than the number left. He stepped forward, just as Lord Hockingmoor arrived in front of them. Alex mentally groaned, then breathed in relief as it was discovered that Lord Hockingmoor’s token matched Lady Phyllida’s. That was, in its own way, amusing.

He stepped away as they began to talk, to discover Lady Selina standing before him, a questioning look on her face. She held up a token. 13.

A moment of heady delight washed through him. He showed her his token, and watched the fleeting expression of matching delight cross her face, before she schooled it back to a conventional smile. He offered her his arm, she placed her hand upon it, and they went to where his mother waited with the lists of things that they were supposed to seek.

It was a childish game, but suddenly, he saw it as quite the most entertaining thing he had done all week – well, bar certain stolen kisses. List in hand, they retreated to the hallway to decide their plan of attack. He was quite certain that his mother would have made sure that nothing was hidden in a place where couples might be scandalously alone – there were certain to be footmen and maids strategically placed to prevent anything unseemly.

Which would not prevent him from touching her, in whatever minor ways he could – he foresaw an afternoon of exquisite torture of the best kind. In the end, it became far more fun than he had expected – they spoke of many things, and rummaged about in odd cupboards and storage rooms, fingers brushing, bodies brushing, all whilst laughing and discovering the hidden things. He could not remember the last time that he had experienced such innocent enjoyment.

Repeatedly, they saw Lady Phyllida and Lord Hockingmoor, deep in discussion and searching. They looked, Alex thought, terribly serious. There was no laughter there, none at all.

“Lady Selina, I do not think that our nemeses are having as much fun as we are – they look so serious.”

“Your Grace, I would not be so sure of that. Lord Hockingmoor likes seriousness, and looking important. Perhaps they are enjoying it in their own way.”

“They are well matched then, for Lady Phyllida places much store in seeming important, and serious.”

Lady Selina looked at him, and her mouth twisted slightly into an odd sort of smile.