His Mistletoe Marchioness

by Georgie Lee

  ‘I hope so.’ The festive activities here had always been one of Clara’s favourite parts of the annual house party.

  Lord Tillman sat in an armchair next to the fireplace, entertaining James, Lillie and a number of other children with a sleight-of-hand card trick. If Lord Tillman weren’t such an honourable and forthright gentleman, he could make a great deal of money at the tables with such tricks, but, recognising his talent, he often refused to play unless it was for fun or small stakes. He would make the cards disappear as if by magic, eliciting from the children oohs of amazement before he made the card reappear from behind one of their ears, sending the children into fits of laughter. Their delight both warmed and saddened Clara. There wasn’t a child of hers among them to marvel at Lord Tillman’s sleight of hand.

  The curtain of melancholy threatened to fall over her again, but its descent was halted by the arrival of Hugh. With him standing on the threshold taking in the guests before his attention alighted on her, the last thing she wanted was to appear glum or to risk losing a single tear. He’d humiliated her enough in front of most of these people once before. She didn’t need her private sorrows, no matter how much they seared her heart, leaving her in a crying puddle to be pitied. Determined to appear at ease, she touched the combs in the back of her coiffure, pretending as if Hugh’s arrival made no difference to her.

  He soon looked away from her and strode up to Sir Nathaniel and began to chat with him. As if aware that she was watching him, he tossed her a quick glance that made her drop her gaze to her feet and the sturdy boots she wore. She wasn’t sure how long he regarded her, but no matter where she looked or how much she concentrated on the view through the window she could not forget that he stood only the length of the room away from her. Outside, the snow that had threatened yesterday had not fallen, but the clouds lingered to blot out the sunshine and cast a grey pall over the countryside. Very soon, or so everyone had discussed at breakfast, they expected to see snow. It would be a great delight for the children and the guests since the Tillmans owned a sleigh that they placed at their guests’ disposal for rides. Clara and Hugh had taken advantage of the Tillmans’ generosity with the sleigh many times during their last visit, with Hugh expertly handling the ribbons as he’d guided the sturdy plough horse over the gently sloping hills and wide fields. Clara would sit close beside him, her hips pressed against his and the lap blanket spread across both their thighs to keep them warm. During the rides, he’d talked endlessly about his hopes for Everburgh and how his inheritance sat heavy on his shoulders. He’d explained to her all his ideas for improving the manor lands to increase the crops and the profits derived from them, and she’d encouraged every one of them, convinced that he would succeed in making Everburgh as magnificent as it had once been. As she’d held tight to his arm, sometimes leaning her head on his shoulder, she’d imaged herself beside him, helping him overcome all the difficulties that he’d endured over the years until they were firmly set in the past. Clara had understood what it was like to struggle under the weight of a title for she’d watched Adam assume the earldom and all responsibility for Winsome after their father had died. She knew how difficult it was to make the transition and how much more so it was for Hugh. Winsome had been well managed and smoothly run with nothing like the troubles that had plagued Everburgh. While Hugh had spoken, the breath of the horses driving the sleigh had risen like clouds over their heads and Clara had dreamed of helping him make his dreams for the manor come true.

  Clara flicked a piece of fluff off the skirt of her pelisse, missing that old easiness with Hugh. There’d been none of it last night and when she turned from the window and her eyes caught his again, all the stiff awkwardness returned. Not even when Hugh had been nothing more than Adam’s friend and she a pest of a little sister had his mere presence in the same house as her been so unpleasant. At least back then, when they were little more than children, he’d held some genuine regard for her.

  ‘Don’t stare too much, Clara, or people will talk,’ Anne teasingly warned.

  ‘I wasn’t staring, I was simply marvelling at how well he conceals the meaner side of his personality.’ He’d hidden it from Clara, her parents and even Adam, so much so, her brother still pretended these traits didn’t exist. Adam approached Hugh who offered her brother the first smile she’d seen since his arrival, even if it was a shallow one that faded fast. She wished she could be so at ease with him.

  ‘It isn’t as mean as you wish to believe. He was grieving, Clara, like you and chose to deal with it in his own way,’ Anne insisted, but Clara wasn’t convinced.

  ‘By acting like his grandfather and dallying with half the actresses in London?’

  ‘Lord Delamare isn’t the awful man you think he is and if you simply spoke to him I think you would see that.’

  Clara wondered at Anne’s continued defence of the man and if Anne knew something about Hugh’s situation that Clara was not privy to, but there was no time to ask for Lady Tillman entered the room carrying an old hat. A ripple of excitement spread through the still as she joined Lord Tillman at the fireplace.

  ‘Welcome, everyone, and thank you so much for joining us again. It warms the heart to have my family and all my old friends and their children near at this special time of year,’ Lady Tillman announced.

  ‘Hear, hear.’ A rousing cheer went up from the men while the women offered polite applause. The children were shooed out of the room by their nurses and governesses while Lord Tillman explained about the hat and the pairing for those new to the group. Lady Tillman would draw a woman’s name from her hat and then Lord Tillman would draw a man’s name from his hat. Those two people would then be paired together for each activity that Lord and Lady Tillman had devised for the week. It was one of the rituals that had been taking place here for so many years and would, if fate allowed, continue for many more to come.

  When at last the Tillmans were done thanking and welcoming and explaining, a footman came forward to hold the two hats. Lady Tillman drew the first lady’s name.

  ‘Lady Pariston.’

  The Dowager nodded from where she sat wrapped in a large shawl.

  Lord Tillman reached his hand into his hat and pulled out a name. ‘Lord Wortley.’

  The room applauded the strange pairing, while Lord Wortley rose to join his new partner. Clara almost slumped her shoulders in disappointment before the announcement of the next pairing drew her back into the excitement of the morning, one tinged with a touch of anxiety at Hugh’s continued presence. She did her best to ignore it and to enjoy instead the anticipation and laughter that met each new announced pair. Family members and strangers were brought together or separated in the spirit of the Christmas festivities and Clara waited, wondering who she would end up with for a partner when at last Lady Tillman drew out her name.

  ‘Lady Kingston,’ she announced.

  ‘And what lucky man will be paired with what I can only describe as the loveliest of ladies and the most eligible?’ Lord Tillman teased while he dipped his hand into the hat and rustled the paper. Then at last he drew out a small slip and opened it. Clara balled her hands over her legs and waited as if she were receiving a Christmas morning present.

  Lord Tillman’s eyebrows rose a touch before he showed the slip to his wife, who giggled like a young girl before the both of them turned to face Clara.

  Lord Tillman’s clear voice rang out. ‘Lord Delamare.’

  Clara nearly fell out of her chair. No, no, no, this wasn’t possible.

  A quick intake of surprise almost sucked the smoke from the chimney as all eyes turned to either her or Hugh. Both Clara and Hugh knew what was expected of them, they should rise and, in a fit of laughter and smiles, pair up on a sofa or in the matched chairs near the window, but neither of them moved. Clara didn’t so much as look at him as she struggled to smile, to breathe, to do anything except sit there like a startled rabbit.

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nbsp; It was Anne who broke the ice, clapping and laughing as was expected of the guests after each announcement. Slowly, the rest of the room joined in. Clara shot Anne a stiff smile, hoping her sister-in-law would catch the panic just beneath. She had no desire to be paired with Hugh for dinner much less for every activity of the entire week, but it was either speak up and insist that Lord Tillman draw again and be rude to their host and cause even more unnecessary whispering or rise and take her place beside Hugh. Not wishing to make more of a spectacle of herself than she feared she already was, she had no choice but to get up and join him.

  Why in heaven’s name had she allowed Anne to talk her into coming to this house party?

  Clara stood slowly, putting on her best party face as she turned to greet Hugh in the centre of the room. He wore a similarly false and overly wide smile, pretending like her that this was not a very unexpected and unwanted turn of events. Her heart raced, not with excitement like it had six years ago, but with the painful realisation that everyone was watching them. Not even Lord and Lady Tillman had moved on to form the next couple—they, like the rest of their guests, were waiting for Hugh and Clara to move aside. Not one to prolong the awkward moment, Clara made for an open seat near the window and Hugh followed her. They said nothing about the imposed partnership, but sat through the rest of the pairings, clapping as stiffly at each announcement as they had during the four words they’d exchanged at dinner last night.

  Adam and Anne, by chance again, were paired up to their mutual delight while Lord Westbook found himself with Lady Fulton. Lord Fulton was left to join with Lady Worth while Sir Nathaniel was paired with Mrs Alton. Clara thought Lord Westbook and Lady Fulton a good match for they were both overly fond of gossip and would have a great deal to discuss while they were together, unlike she and Hugh. Heaven knew what catty remarks that pair of busybodies would make about Clara this time.

  No, I shouldn’t care. Lady Pariston’s suggestion to ignore people’s whispering came back to her, but Clara found it difficult to shrug off her concern. She didn’t like being the subject of gossip, good or bad, and here she was at the centre of it again and it was all Hugh’s fault.

  Finally, the pairing complete, Lord and Lady Tillman had the footman take away the hats and set to explaining the first activity.

  ‘It’s a scavenger hunt,’ Lady Tillman announced, sending another wave of excitement through the crowd. ‘There are ten things on the grounds of Stonedown you must find and visit. The footman is handing out the papers with the clues and each numbered clue has a corresponding number on the item it describes. Work out the clues and go to the objects to see if you are correct, then you will return here, write out your answers and give them to us. The pair with the most correct answers will receive a fine bottle of brandy to share between them.’

  Lord Tillman held up the brandy which made the bored husbands sit up and take notice. ‘You will have two hours to find all the objects. In the event of a tie, we will ask questions about the object you saw so pay attention to what you are seeing. A shot will sound when you have fifteen minutes left and then another will tell you when it is time to return. Good luck, everyone, and happy hunting.’

  Couples who already had their clues set off in search of their described objects. While Clara and Hugh waited for their copy of the clues, Clara tried to appear pleased and relaxed, but inside she silently sighed. At least the first activity wasn’t a sleigh ride, the lack of snow having put paid to any chance of that. Snow or no snow didn’t change the fact that she must spend the following two hours combing the Stonedown grounds for landmarks with Hugh. At last, the footman handed her a copy of the clues and Clara pretended to concentrate on them so she wouldn’t have to look at Hugh. Lady Fulton strolled by with a swagger that made Clara look up from the parchment.

  ‘It will be an interesting game, won’t it, Lady Kingston?’ she said, as if this were ample revenge for their exchange of words last night.

  ‘They always are,’ Clara responded as calmly as she could, as though this were just another event here and not the second most shocking and uncomfortable experience of her life.

  ‘Well, perhaps you can share in our brandy after we win it, because we will win, won’t we, Lord Westbook?’

  ‘We have as good a chance as anyone.’ He held out his arm to her and she took it before both of them stepped out into the frosty countryside air.

  After that challenge, Clara could no longer stare at the parchment or ignore Hugh. She rose, trying to be polite and gracious even while she wanted to ball up the clues and lob them at the back of Lady Fulton’s elegant hat. ‘Shall we?’

  ‘Lead the way.’ He waved his arm towards the French door left ajar by the last couple who’d passed through it in search of brandy and glory.

  Securing the buttons on her gloves against the cold air outside, she stepped on to the stone portico following the line of the house. Just beyond it was the brown lawn leading out towards a copse of trees. The grass, brittle with frost and cold, crunched beneath their boots while they walked, the harsh noise seeming to echo the chill between them.

  The heavy silence that had enveloped them at dinner hung over them again like the clouds did the countryside, the weight of it just as oppressive. All around them, Clara could hear the excited chatter and laughter of the other guests enjoying themselves as they struck out in search of their treasures. She glanced at him as they walked side by side in no particular direction, having discussed none of the clues or where they would begin. His face was passive with no hint of disappointment at this unfortunate circumstance, except Clara was tired of disappointment and worry and the constant tension. She didn’t wish to spend another Christmas in this state and Hugh Delamare be damned. She would not allow this awkwardness to dominate the week or ruin yet another merry season. He was the past, a very brief moment of it, and she would no longer permit it to command the present.

  ‘I assume you know where we are going?’ Hugh asked.

  ‘Just there.’ She pointed to the line of trees at the edge of the lawn, eager to be out of sight of the house and far enough away from the other guests to give Hugh a clue of a very different kind. She led him into the shadow of the trees where the temperature noticeably dropped, adding a deeper chill to the already biting air. She was glad for it because it stiffened her resolve even while she clutched her arms around her to stave off the cold. ‘We must speak before we can discuss the clues.’

  ‘About what?’ Hugh asked, the cold appearing not to trouble him.

  She rubbed her arms, fighting off the desire to take the easy path and let him be the one to speak first or to keep pretending that all was well, even when it wasn’t. She would not sacrifice a chance at a pleasant Christmas merely to protect her ego from the possibility that she was about to make a bigger fool of herself now than she had with him six years ago, but the matter had to be settled.

  ‘It seems there is some tension between us, if dinner last night is any indication,’ she announced with all the directness of her and Adam’s old tutor. ‘We needn’t rehash why this may be, but I hate to ignore it either. What happened between us the last time we were here together was regrettable, but that was a long time ago and a great deal has happened to us both since. I would hate for either of us to have the rest of the week ruined because of it. I’m not asking that we be friends, but that we put the past behind us and be to each other as we would if we’d been paired with anyone else. There’s no reason to feel awkward together or ruin a good house party. I hope you agree.’

  Clara set her shoulders, waiting to see what reaction this would provoke. She was amazed to see admiration slowly replace his shock.

  * * *

  Hugh stared down at Clara, who spoke to him with the same directness his man of affairs employed whenever he had to deliver bad news about the estate. He admired her ability to be so straightforward. It was a trait he rarely witnessed in any woman, espec
ially not in his last mistress, Lady Frances. Even at the end of the relationship when they’d clearly been together out of habit and not affection, she hadn’t possessed the same strength of character as Clara, leaving it to Hugh to end things between them. It had been a relief to both his pocket and his conscience. Other high-born men might dally with one young lady after another and think nothing of the consequences, but having a mistress was something he’d never been comfortable with. A good amount of late nights and cheap brandy had helped to quell his conscience, but it hadn’t silenced it completely.

  He was glad to see Clara possessed more fortitude than to allow this tension to linger between them and he regretted not being the one to say it first. She was right, their time together six years ago had been brief and although he had cared a great deal for her, far deeper than even he had been able to believe in so short an amount of time, he had made his decision and both of them had gone on to live other lives. Now they were together again and she was calling a halt to the unease that had dominated dinner last night, the one that would continue to annoy them if they didn’t face this square on.

  ‘I agree, Lady Kingston. I suspect that we’ve both come to Stonedown with similar purposes, to enjoy a Christmas of brightness after a few years of dark ones. I don’t wish for my presence to prevent you from having what would otherwise be a wonderful holiday. We must put the past behind us and do our best to have fun during the brief time here.’ He held out his hand for her to shake.

  She stared at it a moment, clearly as aghast by his frankness as he’d been by hers. Hugh’s fingers twitched while he waited for her to take his hand and he wondered if she would. Despite the moment at the base of the stairs last night when he’d comforted her, she hadn’t been open or kind to him since their reunion. Even her proposal had been all business. There was nothing to say that this agreement between them would do anything more than thaw a touch of the ice surrounding them and things wouldn’t continue on as they had since last night, except with a little more conversation.