Mistletoe Magic (Home For Christmas Book 2)

by Rose Pearson

  The ton would slowly begin to accept him, he was sure. Having met with Lady Allerton last evening, he knew that if she had been welcomed by the beau monde, then there was every chance he would be too, once he stopped making foolish mistakes like introducing himself to young ladies whom he did not know!

  “Oh, excuse me!”

  Having had his gaze caught on what was a bright red ribbon, Oliver stumbled back, realizing he had walked into someone. “I am so very sorry,” he said at once, his cheeks flaming with color as he looked at the lady, who was brushing down her gown as if he had somehow creased it. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, I should have been watching where I was going.”

  The lady looked up at him, her eyes as blue as the sea and her skin as white as the flakes of snow that had only just begun to fall outside. Her gaze was considering but not angry, her thin lips twisted as she studied him, perhaps wondering whether or not she ought to rail at him. She was no debutante, of that, he was sure, but there was still a youthfulness to her that had Oliver wondering where her chaperone might be.

  “Forgive me,” he said inclining his head again. “I did not see you, but that was entirely my fault.”

  “Yes,” the lady said, her tone firm as her voice rang out across the room. “Yes, it was your fault, sir.”

  Heat climbed up Oliver’s spine, but he did not look away. It had been his fault, his doing, his mistake—and just when he had been telling himself not to make any more missteps!

  “I was distracted by one of the many lovely items in this shop,” he said as though this explanation would bring him any sympathy. “I should have been much more careful.”

  The lady tipped her head to the left, still watching him with that cool, firm gaze. “What was it, sir?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “What was it that caught your attention?” she asked, the tiniest of smiles catching the corner of her mouth and, as it did so, entirely transforming her features. “Was it something quite lovely?”

  A little relieved she was not about to give him a resounding set-down, Oliver nodded and gestured to the ribbons on his right. “The colors are quite vivid,” he said as though this were a clear enough explanation. “I thought to mayhap purchase one.”

  “Oh?” The lady’s smile grew, her eyes now a little brighter than before. “For whom would you purchase such a lovely thing?” The interest in her gaze surprised him, as did the forwardness of her manner. He had been told that such profound interest in a stranger was not well thought of, and yet this lady here was doing the very thing he had been warned against.

  “It is for my cousin,” he said slowly, wondering what she meant by such a question and why she still did not have any chaperone. “That is all.”

  The lady’s smile slipped for a moment. “I see,” she said softly. “And when are you to marry?”

  Oliver was overcome with astonishment, staring at the lady with wide eyes. He had never expected such a question and certainly not from someone who was a veritable stranger! It was entirely improper, of that, he was quite sure, and yet she had asked him without even a momentary hesitation.

  “Is the wedding to be before Christmas or after?” the lady asked again when he did not immediately answer. “And is it to be here in London?”

  “I—I am not to marry,” he answered, stammering just a little with the astonishment that came from her question. “I have no intention of doing so.”

  “Oh.” Her smile grew again. “I thought you were a gentleman from a far off land come to lay claim to your cousin’s hand!”

  At this remark, Oliver could not help but smile. “I fear I am nothing so mysterious, my lady,” he answered, inclining his head just a fraction. “My cousin is Lady Rutledge, and it is for her that I would purchase this ribbon.”

  “How very thoughtful of you!” the lady cried, one hand over her heart. “I am acquainted with Lady Rutledge, of course.” Her eyes lingered on his, igniting a sense of awkwardness in his heart at the intensity of her gaze. “I have been very ill-mannered, have I not?” she asked teasingly and showing no sign of changing her manner despite her obvious awareness she was being so. “But I am afraid that with being a widow, one needs to gain a little more boldness than before.” Her eyes twinkled. “I am no shy, retiring debutante, sir, as you can see.”

  “Indeed,” he agreed, hoping he was not insulting her by stating such a thing. “Might I ask your name?”

  She laughed, the sound filling the shop. “Of course you may!” she smiled, her eyes dancing. “It is quite improper to be making such introductions this way, but given how we have met, we shall have to hope it will suffice.” She bobbed a quick curtsy, her smile never fading. “I am Lady Northcott.”

  “And I am Mr. Lowell,” he answered, seeing the interest flickering in her eyes. “I come from Boston.”

  “And what do you do, Mr. Lowell from Boston?”

  Her sing-song voice made him wince inwardly, feeling an awkward tension he could not quite shake. “I have recently taken over my father’s financial business,” he said with a small smile. “I am only here to visit my cousin and shall soon return.”

  Lady Northcott looked immediately dismayed. “But not too soon, I hope?” she said, taking a small step forward. “We have only just become acquainted, and I confess that I am quite intrigued by you. A gentleman from another part of the world, which I know very little about.” Her expression became all the more troubled. “My late husband used to go to the continent very often so as to secure his interests there, but he never once went to America.”

  Oliver smiled politely, feeling very confused as to this lady’s conduct and manner of speaking. She was being very open with him when he had been told to keep such remarks until an acquaintance was more firmly established. Perhaps, he considered, being a widow meant the lady could be a little more unorthodox and would not be looked down on because of it.

  “I hope to return after Christmas,” he said with a small shrug. “I could depart at any time, but given what I have been told of Christmas here in England, I think I should like to remain and see for myself what it is like.”

  “Oh, yes, you must indeed!” the lady declared, her smile returning to her face almost at once. “And you must come to the soiree I am to have in a few days’ time. It will be quite lovely to be able to introduce you to some of my acquaintances. I am sure they will be just as intrigued with you as I.”

  Oliver, a little confused still but feeling also quite flattered at the lady’s warmth, found himself nodding. “I would be delighted to attend,” he said honestly. “Thank you.”

  The door to the shop opened, and the affixed bell tinkled as it was pushed open wide. Two ladies hurried in, one of them exclaiming furiously about the weather and the snow, whilst the second brushed down her arms, letting the snowflakes fall to the floor.

  Oliver, a little surprised, looked out of the shop window, astonished to see what appeared to be sheets of white falling to the ground, one after the other. It had been falling for some time, it appeared, but he had not noticed given his conversation with first the dressmaker and then with Lady Northcott. “Goodness!” he exclaimed, moving towards the window to look out at the scene a little more. “I didn’t expect the snow to be this heavy here in London!”

  Lady Northcott joined him and laughed. “Indeed! It can be very cold here. Did you know that we have the Frost Fair every year, held out on the ice?”

  He turned to stare at her, his eyes wide with astonishment. “Really?”

  “Indeed we do,” came another voice, as Oliver turned to see none other than Lady Georgiana standing there, accompanied by her sister-in-law. “The Frost Fair is a remarkable affair, and I would encourage you to see it when the time comes.” She smiled, although Oliver thought her expression a little tight as she bobbed a quick curtsy to Lady Northcott. “Good afternoon, Lady Northcott.”

  “Good afternoon,” Lady Northcott replied a touch coolly. “And good afternoon to you also, Lady
Allerton.”

  “Good afternoon.” Lady Allerton was not smiling, her gaze almost cold as she looked steadily back at Lady Northcott. “You have met Mr. Lowell, it seems.”

  Oliver cleared his throat, feeling a sense of awkwardness. “Yes, we have just introduced ourselves,” he said wincing inwardly as he saw Lady Georgiana frown. Evidently, she must think him just as foolish as before. “Given the weather, it seemed a little rude to be standing in the same shop without a single word of introduction!”

  This, it seemed, brought a little relief to Lady Georgiana, for her expression lightened a touch as she glanced from himself to Lady Northcott and back again. Lady Allerton, however, remained unsmiling.

  “You also must come to my little soiree, Lady Allerton,” Lady Northcott cooed, moving a little closer to Oliver as though she were very well acquainted with him. “I have just had Mr. Lowell’s agreement he will attend, and I am sure that, since you are acquainted with him, he would very much appreciate it if you were to be there also.” She smiled warmly up at him, her beautiful face filled with nothing but kindness, although Oliver could not help but feel a little uncomfortable when she put one hand on his arm.

  Lady Georgiana sent a look to Lady Allerton that Oliver could not quite decipher. It was as if she did not want to accept the invitation but felt obliged to, given what Lady Northcott had said about Oliver’s eagerness to have some acquaintances present. He wanted to say there was no need for them to come, no need for them to feel as though he would be lost without them present, but found that every time he came to say something, his mouth refused to move.

  “That is very kind of you, Lady Northcott,” Lady Allerton said eventually, clearly a trifle reluctant. “We would be very glad to accept.”

  “Wonderful!” Lady Northcott clapped her hands in evident delight, then stepped away from Oliver, gesturing towards the window. “And I can see the snow is lessening, so I must take my leave before it worsens again. I shall send you all an invitation directly.”

  “Thank you, Lady Northcott,” Oliver called after her, seeing how she threw him a dazzling smile. “I look forward to your little gathering.”

  She waved a hand delicately, then stepped outside and disappeared into the snow, leaving Oliver standing opposite Lady Allerton and Lady Georgiana, who were both looking at him with similar expressions of scrutiny.

  “It looks very cold outside,” Oliver said by way of finding something to say instead of allowing the awkward silence to continue. “Did you find it difficult coming through the snow?”

  Lady Georgiana cleared her throat gently, but instead of breaking the tension, the sound only added to it. “We had no particular difficulty,” she said, no sense of warmth in her voice but rather that reserve he had seen ever since she had entered the shop. “But it may take a little longer to return home.”

  “Mr. Lowell?”

  The dressmaker was back at the counter, a piece of paper in her hand. Excusing himself and grateful for the distraction, Oliver hurried back towards her, pasting a smile on his face he did not quite feel.

  “Your bill, sir,” the dressmaker said. “And your items are ready to take back to Lady Rutledge.”

  “Thank you.” Quickly, he paid his bill in full and listened as the dressmaker told him when his coat, hat, and gloves would be ready for him. Thanking her again, he turned back to take his leave of Lady Georgiana and Lady Allerton, seeing how they were speaking quietly together, their heads close so he could not overhear them.

  “I should take these things back to Lady Rutledge,” he said with a small shrug. “And the weather does look very poor. I do hope you will get home safely.”

  “I am sure we will,” Lady Allerton answered, her eyes still holding more emotion than she was expressing. “We will see you tomorrow evening, I hope? At Lord and Lady Rutledge’s ball.”

  He nodded. “Yes, of course.” A little emboldened, he looked towards Lady Georgiana, who appeared to be chewing her lip. “And I hope you will dance with me again, Lady Georgiana.”

  She pressed her lips together, not giving him an immediate answer. A second or two of silence passed before she nodded and looked away, leaving him only with that particular answer rather than anything of significance.

  “Wonderful,” he said a trifle doubtfully. “Until tomorrow, then.”

  “Until tomorrow,” Lady Allerton replied, leaving Oliver wondering what it was he had done that had caused such a change in both their manners and fearing that, yet again, Lady Rutledge would have yet more to discuss with him before tomorrow evening’s ball had even begun.

  Chapter Five

  “I have found you the perfect match.”

  Georgiana looked doubtfully at her brother, seeing how he sat back in the carriage with a look of immense pride on his face.

  “Oh?” she queried, looking at her sister-in-law, who was, to her surprise, looking quite contented with this news. The carriage came to a stop just outside Lord Rutledge’s home, and within a few moments, the door was pulled open by the waiting footmen.

  Lord Allerton gestured for both Georgiana and Lady Allerton to exit the carriage before him, forcing Georgiana to wait until he had joined them on the cold, wintry street. “Who is it this time, Allerton?” Georgiana asked, growing both a little impatient and a little anxious. “I hope it is not someone similar in any way to Lord Tolliver or Lord Pembrokeshire!”

  Lord Allerton chuckled, offering his arm to Lady Allerton before climbing the few steps towards the front door. “No, indeed not,” he said heartily. “It is, in fact, the Earl of Poole.”

  Georgiana hesitated, searching her memory to see if she knew the gentleman. “I do not think I know him, Allerton,” she said as she stepped through the front door and immediately joined the receiving line. “Might I ask how you are acquainted with him?” She dropped her voice low, not wanting any of the other guests to overhear her. “Is he well known to you?”

  “He is,” her brother said cheerfully. “I have known him for a long time. In fact, he has never come to London for the Season—either in the summer or in the little Season, but this time he has decided to attend.”

  Georgiana swallowed hard, feeling a sudden lump in her throat, although she could not quite explain why. She had known this was coming, had known that her brother would be finding someone for her to marry, and yet now he had done so, now he seemed to be quite certain that this particular gentleman would be suitable for her, Georgiana felt terrified. Had she still had the hope that someone would come along who was, in fact, interested in her simply because of their prior acquaintance?

  “He has decided he now needs to marry and, given he has dragged himself to London in order to do such a thing, I thought I might suggest an agreement.”

  “I see,” Georgiana murmured, her throat still very dry, and her hands tightly clenched as she moved towards Lord and Lady Rutledge, ready to greet them and thank them for their invitation.

  “Therefore, whilst the particulars still have to be worked out, a marriage between yourself and Lord Poole will occur. Perhaps after Christmas, given we only have less than three weeks until then.”

  Georgiana nodded but was unable to say more, being forced to turn and greet her hosts, finally looking towards the ballroom and feeling her heart lift at the sight of it.

  “Thank you for inviting me,” she said as she curtsied in front of Lord and Lady Rutledge. “The ballroom looks quite wonderful!”

  “I do so love Christmastime,” Lady Rutledge answered with a sigh of contentment. “It has been lovely to oversee the decoration of the ballroom, I confess. I do hope you enjoy this evening.” She smiled at Georgiana, who smiled back and then turned to make her way into the room itself.

  The ballroom was truly splendid. Strands of ivy and holly berries were twined together into wreaths, which hung around the room at various points, and she spied two boughs of mistletoe, each hung on either side of the room. A faint blush caught her cheeks as she looked at them, wondering if she w
ould have any gentlemen seeking to steal a kiss from her in exchange for a mistletoe berry. Gold and silver ribbons caught her attention, the warm crackling fire spreading orange and red lights all across the room. A footman cleared his throat gently, holding out a tray towards her, and Georgiana took a glass at once. She lifted it to her lips and took a sip, a smile spreading across her face at the delicious syllabub. Lady Rutledge had truly outdone herself.

  “Should you like me to introduce him to you this evening?”

  She started, looking to see her brother coming to stand beside her, with Lady Allerton next to him. For a moment, she had forgotten about what her brother had planned for her only for it all to come back to her in a rush, making her swallow hard.

  “He is here this evening, then?”

  Lord Allerton nodded. “He is,” he said, looking through the crowd as though he might spot him immediately. “Or he should be. I would like to introduce him to you, Georgiana. Even Alice agrees he is a suitable match.”

  “I do,” Lady Allerton confirmed with a small smile. “I have met him only once, but I think him a good match for you, Georgiana.”

  Georgiana took a little comfort from this, knowing that her sister-in-law would not consider accepting someone she thought was even a little unsuitable for her. “Then I should be glad to meet him,” she told her brother, who looked quite contented at this.

  “Good!” he declared, putting a hand on Georgiana’s shoulder. “I do want you to be happy and settled with a good husband and nothing to fear for the rest of your days, dear sister. I am sure Lord Poole will ensure you have a life of contentment.”

  Georgiana let her eyes lift to her brother’s face and saw there the consideration and the care he had for her. It had not always been present in his life, had certainly been absent completely on some occasions, but at this moment, at this time, she was truly grateful for it. What was she to do? Was she to reject Lord Poole because she wanted to hold onto a faint hope that another gentleman might show her some genuine interest and therefore seek to court her? She knew the chance of such a thing happening was very small indeed, and her practical mind told her she ought not to be so foolish.