Page 46 of Miss Murchison’s Mistletoe Memories

“Come, let us find some refreshment. The dancing has made me quite parched.”

“I really should find my aunt,” Èibhlin protested, attempting to withdraw her hand without creating a scene.

“Nonsense,” Lord Gregory replied, his tone light, but his grip unyielding. “Miss Murchison appears perfectly content in conversation with Lady Harrington. She would not wish you to neglect your social duties on her account.”

He guided her with determined purpose towards the archway leading to the corridor beyond, where one of the largest mistletoe balls hung in plain sight. Èibhlin’s heart began to beat faster, recognising his intent with growing alarm.

To make a scene would draw unwanted attention, yet to allow Lord Gregory to manoeuvre her beneath the mistletoe would create a different sort of difficulty. She did not, most definitely did not, wish to be kissed by him.

“My Lord, I really must insist—” she began, as they approached the archway.

“Miss Èibhlin, you worry entirely too much about what others might think,” he interrupted, steering her inexorably forward. “A little seasonal tradition between friends is hardly cause for concern.”

They were nearly at the archway now, and Èibhlin cast a desperate glance around the room, seeking some excuse, some interruption which might spare her from the imminent disaster – for that was the only way that she could regard it. Her gaze collided with Niall’s across the crowded ballroom, and something in her expression must have conveyed her distress, for his posture suddenly changed, tension evident in every line of his body.

Lord Gregory paused directly beneath the mistletoe, turning to face her with a triumphant smile.

“Ah, look where we find ourselves, Miss Èibhlin. How fortunate.”

His hand rose to cup her cheek, his intention unmistakable as he began to lower his head towards hers. Èibhlin froze, torn between the desire to avoid a public scene and her deep reluctance to accept even a ceremonial kiss from a man whose company she barely tolerated.

“I believe Miss Èibhlin has promised me the next dance.”

Niall’s voice, cool and authoritative, cut through the moment like a blade. He stood beside them, his expression carefully controlled, though his eyes held a dangerous glint that Èibhlin had never seen before.

Lord Gregory straightened, his face flushing with poorly concealed irritation.

“Your Grace. I was not aware of any such arrangement.”

“And yet it exists,” Niall replied, extending his hand to Èibhlin. “Miss Èibhlin?”

Relief flooded through her as she quickly placed her hand in his, stepping away from Lord Gregory with perhaps more haste than grace.

“Yes, of course. Thank you for reminding me, Your Grace.”

Lord Gregory’s mouth tightened, his gaze moving between them with sudden, sharp assessment.

“How convenient that the Duke himself should appear at precisely this moment. One might almost suspect deliberate timing.”

“One might suspect many things, Lord Gregory,” Niall said, his tone deceptively mild. “The wisdom lies in knowing which suspicions merit voicing aloud.”

The warning was unmistakable, and Lord Gregory, after a moment of visible calculation, executed a stiff bow.

“Another time, then, Miss Èibhlin. I shall look forward to continuing our... conversation... later this evening.”

As he withdrew, Èibhlin released a shaky breath, her hand still resting in Niall’s.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible above the music which had begun once more. “Your intervention was most timely.”

“Are you well?” Niall asked, his gaze searching her face with an intensity that sent warmth flooding through her, despite the lingering distress of the moment before. “Did he—”

“No,” she assured him quickly. “You arrived before any... liberties... could be taken. Though his intentions were quite clear.”

Something dangerous flickered in Niall’s eyes.

“He has been remarkably persistent in his attentions, despite your evident lack of encouragement.”

“The Duchess and my aunt have both encouraged his suit,” Èibhlin explained, as Niall led her towards where the dancers were forming up for the next set. “He likely believes that their approval supersedes my personal reservations.”