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With that, they waited for Pulley to travel around the room and snuff all the candles, dimming the room considerably and leaving only the fire in the hearth.
Without looking their way, Mrs. Taylor spoke in a quiet voice to Frederick and Molly. “Once the game begins, there is a task I shall require your assistance with.”
“Yes, Mrs. Taylor?” asked Molly.
Pulley inserted a thin stick into the hearth until it caught fire, then brought that small flame to the shallow dish filled with brandy and two dozen raisins. With a whoosh, blue flames spread, and raucous noises erupted from those around. In the darkened room, the burning brandy cast eerie, flickering shadows onto the faces of those playing.
The housekeeper turned to Frederick and Molly, who awaited her instructions. “There’s a certain ball of greenery hanging in the storeroom that requires your attention. I need for the two of you to test it.”
Frederick was still wondering if he understood the woman’s meaning correctly when Molly replied. “Yes, of course, Mrs. Taylor.”
Looping her arm through his, she pulled him out of the room, unnoticed by the rest of the celebrants. They were all occupied by the game, their piercing yelps of pain breaking through the peals of laughter.
Before entering the storeroom down the hall, Molly turned to Frederick with an enchanting smile, and he felt the last of his jitters pass. They stepped into the dark room; Frederick squinted, searching in the light of the sole taper she carried for thecertain ball of greenery.
She lifted the candle, and there it was, hanging from a green ribbon tied to the wooden herb rack suspended from the ceiling—a kissing ball.
“Mistletoe,” he said, recognizing the distinctive white berries amidst the leaves.
Their laughter drifted off when she set the candle on a table and stepped directly under the cluster of greenery, her face shy despite her deliberate action. He joined her, and though he’d intended to voice his proposal before kissing her, once his arms closed around her, he couldn’t resist her raised lips.
Molly tasted of Christmas and love, mulled spices and warmth.
Eventually raising his head, Frederick held her face in his palms. “I love you.”
She blurred in his vision, and when he blinked through the sheen of tears, her own rolled down her cheeks and onto his fingers.
“I loveyou,” she breathed.
“You and I are two strings out of tune with the rest of the world but in perfect harmony with one another.”
Her hands covered his, and her eyes closed. “Yes. So we are.”
He took in a slow, deep breath, the storeroom’s herb-scented air fortifying. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Her eyes shut even tighter before they opened, and though closed for only a few moments, when she gazed upon him again it felt like daybreak after a year without light.
“Oh, Frederick! Yes!Yes.”
The shrieks and guffaws in the distance reassured them that everyone else remained distracted in the kitchens, so he permitted himself the luxury of pulling her into his arms.
“One day soon, I’ll be your husband, you my wife, and we’ll be a family. We shall embrace for as long as we like without fear of interruption!”
Silent laughter shook her slender body. “The journey to and from Hanover Square…beloved memories, they are. But I can’t wait for the stolen moments to end. For us to have a life together.”
Not only was joy filling his heart, lust increasingly filled his loins. Molly’s dreamy words were no sooner spoken, however, than footsteps ran their way from the kitchens.
They each took a step back, and Frederick turned toward the shelves for good measure. “Yes, I do believe that with prudent rationing, the marmalade can last the household through the winter.”
Molly gasped, making Frederick turn. There stood Thomas, grinning and holding up five badly blistered fingers.
“I won, miss! Blimey! Seven raisins!”
