Page 60 of The Widow’s Christmas Surprise

“Oh, my.” Never had she heard such an outlandish name. “Where did you come up with that name?”

“It is my father-in-law’s given name, and as he had objections to our marrying, we bargained with him—approve our marriage and we would name the child after him if it was a son. And as there is no other title available to him, we had to come up with a least objectionable nickname. So Nes it is.” She shrugged. “I’ve become accustomed to it.”

Tea arrived and talk turned perfunctory in front of the servant.

“You have truly captured the Christmas spirit in this room, Maria.” Elizabeth gazed about the room with admiring eyes.

From the moment she’d written invitations to her friends, Maria had planned to have this one room be cozy and festive. Even though traditionally greenery was only brought into the house on Christmas Eve, Maria had followed the example of Lord Kersey—much as she hated to admit it—and arranged the decorations in this room well before the usual day. She’d ordered fir, holly, ivy, rosemary, and mistletoe brought in, then she and Jane had tied festive bundles to place on windowsills or mantels and draped garland wherever she could attach it. The mistletoe ball, decorated with tiny red and white ribbons, hung prominently over the entrance to the room, although no one had noticed it yet.

“Thank you, Elizabeth. I wanted us to be joyful this Christmas.” Never mind that her own joy had been cut short, her friends would make the difference in her life now.

“Good afternoon, all.” Fanny and Matthew crossed the threshold, stopped and looked above them.

“Ha, caught you.” Matthew grabbed Fanny to him, bent her over his arm, and kissed her long and thoroughly. When he finally righted her, Fanny’s smile reached from ear to ear.

“Do you have any more mistletoe around the house we can sample?” she said to Maria, with a laugh.

“Here.” Matthew reached up and plucked a white berry from the ball. “I will see to it you have a collection of these before the night is over.”

“If you would kindly move out of the way, Lathbury, there are others of us who would join the party.” Kinellan’s voice rang out jovially.

Matthew obliged by taking Fanny’s hand and leading her into the room.

No sooner did he move than Kinellan said, “This way.”

The door was filled by another couple, the lady in a dark green gown with gold medallions scattered over it and a tall, handsome gentleman in buff and blue. “Come along, Lulu.” Georgie tugged on the lead and a bouncy King Charles Spaniel trotted into the room.

“Georgie!”

The women rose at once and converged on Georgie, now the Marchioness of St. Just.

The hugging and kissing that ensued between the members of the former Widows’ Club threatened to get out of hand, until Rob, Marquess of St. Just, waded in to rescue his wife.

“Ladies, I beg of you to allow Georgie to be seated, please.” He escorted the blushing Georgie to the sofa, Lulu leading the way, plumed tail waving proudly.

“You do not have to make a spectacle of me, Rob.” Georgie sat glaring at him, though she smiled all the same. “He wants people to notice how delicate I am because he is inordinately proud that I am finally increasing.”

Another great cry, this time of congratulations, went up. The ladies clustered around Georgie, chatting excitedly, asking questions, giving advice, while the men gathered together at the sideboard, Kinellan handing out congratulatory drinks and raucous jokes being made sotto voce at Rob’s expense.

Maria, however, hung back, suddenly an outsider in her own home. These ladies were her friends, yet they all possessed something that she did not—a husband, or in Jane’s case, a gentleman of significance in her life. Only Maria was alone, in sharp contrast to everyone else at the party. If only Hugh could have been here, her happiness could be complete. No, that would only be true if they were actually husband and wife. A wave of loneliness engulfed her. Never would she find the contentment all her other friends shared, because the one man she loved was not here to complete her happiness. Would never be here to do so.

Tears started from her eyes and she fled to the fireplace before anyone could see. She wiped the tears on the back of her hand, half expecting to be handed the folded handkerchief, smelling of citrus and Hugh. He’d always done so before, but not now. And probably never again.

“Maria?” Jane, of course, had seen her leave the group. “What is wrong, my dear?”

Throat swollen with unshed tears, she could only shake her head, and wish for that handkerchief.

Miraculously, a square of linen appeared before her. She gasped and looked up into Kinellan’s face, filled with compassion. “Fashionable ladies’ gowns have but one design flaw. They do not have pockets in which to carry one’s handkerchief. So I thought you could use mine for the time being.”

“Thank you.” Her nasally voice sounded terrible, but there was little she could do about that until the tears stopped. She wiped her eyes, suddenly aware of the silence in the room. Looking over her shoulder brought the realization that everyone in the room was watching her.

Fanny was the first of those on the sofa to come to her. “What is wrong, Maria?”

She tried to simply shake her head, but Fanny would stand for no nonsense.

“If there was no reason to cry, your cheeks would be dry and your nose wouldn’t be red.” She led Maria back to the sofa and sat her down next to Georgie. “Why are you so unhappy, my dear?”

With a shuddering sigh, she tried to pull her wits together. “Until very recently, I believed that I would be getting married soon.”