Miss Amelia's Mistletoe Marquess

by Jenni Fletcher

  ‘You know, if you’re not careful I won’t point out where we’re standing.’

  ‘Where are we...?’ He glanced around and then upwards. ‘Mistletoe?’

  ‘I thought we ought to have some somewhere.’

  ‘So you thought over the entrance to the ballroom itself?’

  ‘In plain view to avoid any private nonsense, as Mrs Turner put it.’

  ‘Private nonsense? I like the sound of that.’ He bent his head to kiss her, smiling at the way her lips clung softly to his. It felt good to kiss her, just as good as it had the last time and the time before that. He would have thought the novelty might have worn off by now, but apparently it wasn’t fading any time soon.

  ‘Oh.’ She pulled away suddenly, sounding faintly breathless. ‘That sounds like wheels outside. I suppose we ought to go and greet our first guests.’

  ‘Pity.’ He smiled into her eyes. ‘I’d rather stand here all night. Now that I’ve got you under the mistletoe I can’t quite remember why we’re bothering with all this disruption.’

  ‘As a Christmas present for all your tenants.’

  ‘Our tenants, but, yes, that was it.’

  ‘I just hope I’ve remembered people’s names.’

  ‘They won’t mind if you haven’t. It was a lot to learn all at once. Don’t be nervous.’

  ‘Nervous? I’m terrified. I wish Mother and Alexandra were coming. Mother’s note was very strange. She just said that they were indisposed, without any details. I wonder if they’ve all caught Sylvia’s cold?’

  ‘Perhaps. In any case, there’s no need to be terrified. You look wonderful, you are wonderful and you’ll be wonderful. Just remind me to bring that mistletoe upstairs later. We could do with a sprig of it over the bed, don’t you think?’

  * * *

  ‘I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much.’ Mrs Shepherdson could hardly contain her enthusiasm when Millie stopped to ask how her evening was going. ‘Everyone’s saying the same thing.’

  ‘I’m so pleased.’ Millie smiled at the elderly woman standing beside her. ‘I don’t believe that we’ve met?’

  ‘Oh, pardon my manners, Lady Falconmore. This is my mother-in-law, Mrs Agnes Shepherdson.’

  ‘How do you do, Mrs Shepherdson?’

  ‘Very well, my lady. Forgive my not curtsying, but my old bones won’t allow it these days.’ The woman gave her a toothless grin. ‘I’m just entertaining myself by watching your husband. Such a handsome man.’

  ‘Mother!’ Mrs Shepherdson looked horrified. ‘I’m sorry, my lady.’

  ‘It’s all right. He is very handsome, isn’t he?’ Millie glanced across the room to where Cassius was dancing with one of the Petch girls. Having offered to dance with just about every woman on the estate, he’d barely had a chance to rest all evening, but he was smiling, too. He looked positively carefree, chatting and joking to put his young partner at ease. As she watched he looked up suddenly, as if sensing her scrutiny, and his smile spread even wider. Wider than she’d ever seen it. So wide that she felt a tremor of warmth sweep all the way from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

  ‘I remember the first time I came to a ball here.’ The older woman gave her a small nudge, much to her daughter-in-law’s obvious horror. ‘I was sixteen years old and I hardly dared speak to a soul. I hid behind my mother’s skirts for most of the evening.’

  ‘Oh, dear. No dancing, then?’

  ‘Eventually.’ The old woman chuckled. ‘A young man from one of the farms took pity on me. We ended up dancing two sets before he asked if he might call on me the next day.’

  ‘Really? And how did you answer?’

  ‘Oh, I said yes. Or I mumbled it anyway. We got married ten months later.’

  ‘How lovely.’

  ‘We were happily married for sixty-eight years, until he was buried last autumn. Altogether, we had seven children, thirteen grandchildren and nineteen great-grandchildren. So far.’

  ‘Sixty-eight years? So that makes you...’

  ‘Eighty-four.’ The elder Mrs Shepherdson heaved a sigh. ‘I’m afraid that my dancing days are over.’

  ‘I think mine are finished for tonight, too.’ Millie smiled sympathetically, glancing down at the pair of green slippers poking out from beneath her voluminous skirts. Fortunately, it had turned out that she and Sylvia had the same shoe size. ‘My feet are exhausted.’

  ‘But you looked so lovely opening the ball with Lord Falconmore,’ the younger Mrs Shepherdson commented wistfully. ‘Waltzing is so romantic and the way he was looking at you...well, you should have heard the sighs.’

  Millie felt herself flush. She hadn’t heard the sighs, but then she’d been too busy gazing at Cassius, too. The look in his eyes had made it difficult to remember the steps.

  ‘Sometimes it only takes a few days to fall in love.’ The old woman nudged her again. ‘That’s what I said when we first heard the news of your marriage and everyone said...’

  ‘Mother!’ her daughter-in-law interjected quickly, her tone scandalised. ‘I’m sure nobody said anything they shouldn’t have.’

  ‘It’s all right.’ Millie lifted a placatory hand. ‘Our wedding did happen rather quickly. I’m sure there were a lot of rumours.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Some people thought—’

  ‘Mother!’

  ‘However, Lord Falconmore and I are very happy.’

  ‘That’s obvious, my lady. Nobody looking at the two of you could think otherwise. And we’re all very pleased by the fact, too.’

  ‘Thank you. In that case, I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening. I hope to visit your farm again soon.’

  ‘We’d be honoured, my lady.’

  Millie inclined her head and then moved away quickly before the elder Mrs Shepherdson could tell her anything else about what people thought, making her way around the edge of the room towards the door. It would be time for supper soon and she wanted to make sure the food was on its way...

  ‘Lady Falconmore?’ A man in a glossy black superfine dress coat and matching black cravat stepped in front of her suddenly, sweeping into an elaborately low bow.

  ‘Lord Falconmore.’ She curtsied back. ‘How are your feet?’

  ‘Holding up very well, thank you. I trust that you’re enjoying the evening’s entertainment?’

  ‘Very much. I’ve just been asking everyone else the same question. Fortunately, they all assure me they are.’

  ‘I’m delighted to hear it. Now, if you’ll do me the honour?’

  ‘Again? We’ve already danced three times. Won’t people talk?’

  ‘Undoubtedly, but we’ve weathered enough gossip already. A little more can’t hurt. Besides...’ he held a hand out ‘...it’s another waltz.’

  ‘What a surprise.’ She smiled, marvelling anew at how handsome, sardonic almost, he looked all in black. ‘Anyone would think the musicians are being instructed to play them, but who would do such a thing? Still, I suppose it means I don’t have a choice.’ She folded her fingers around his as they walked into the centre of the dance floor. ‘Mrs Shepherdson’s mother-in-law kept trying to tell me what people have been saying and Mrs Shepherdson kept stopping her.’

  He placed his other hand on her back. ‘It’s not hard to guess. I should imagine most people here think you’re with child already.’

  ‘What?’ She almost forgot to move her feet in surprise. ‘But we only met two weeks ago!’

  ‘True.’

  ‘You mean they think that’s why we had to get married? Because of that night in the gatehouse? They think that we...?’

  ‘Got carried away?’ His lips twitched. ‘Something like that. You have to admit, nightmares and frozen digits aside, it was quite romantic.’

  ‘I admit no such thing!’ She batted at his chest, resenting his obvious amusement.
‘I would never have behaved in such a way!’

  ‘You and I know that. Other people have lurid imaginations.’

  ‘But what if I really am with child now?’ She darted a quick look around and lowered her voice. Given the amount of time they’d spent in bed together over the past week, it was hardly outside the realms of possibility. ‘Then they’ll think they were right!’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘It does to me!’

  ‘Ah.’ He looked as if he were trying to suppress another smile. ‘I’m afraid it may be a little too late to do anything about that.’

  ‘Not necessarily.’ She lifted her chin. ‘We ought to stop doing anything to make a baby, just in case.’

  ‘Anything?’

  ‘For at least a month!’

  ‘A month?’ He let out a low whistle and then lowered his head, brushing his lips lightly across her brow. ‘If that’s what you want. Only you might have to keep reminding me. I’m finding it somewhat hard to keep my hands off you these days.’

  ‘This isn’t a joke!’

  ‘Absolutely not, although we should probably start discussing baby names. How about Aloysius for a boy and Esmerelda for a girl?’

  ‘We’ll do no such thing!’ She pulled her hand away from his shoulder and clamped it over his mouth. ‘If anyone overhears us they’ll really think it’s... Cassius!’ She let out an unladylike yelp, pulling her hand away again as his tongue darted across the backs of her fingers.

  ‘Yes?’ His expression was a picture of innocence.

  ‘You’re incorrigible!’

  ‘I’m enjoying myself.’ Blue eyes glinted with amusement.

  ‘Stop laughing.’

  ‘I didn’t make a sound!’

  ‘I can see it in your face.’

  ‘But it’s so difficult not to. You look even prettier when you’re indignant. Which makes you irresistibly attractive right now.’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’

  ‘I’m not. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been congratulated on my good fortune this evening. Sophie Shepherdson told me she wants to be just like you when she grows up and her mother says you’re glowing.’

  ‘Only because we’re pretending to be in love!’

  ‘Are we?’ The pupils of his eyes seemed to widen as they bored into hers. ‘It’s strange, but I feel like I’m hardly pretending any more.’

  Millie caught her breath, the words spinning around her head. Her feet didn’t feel tired any more. She was barely aware of them, in fact. She felt as if her whole being was focused on the points where they touched, on his hands, one of them clasped tight in her own, the other splayed out across her back, warming her skin even through her gown and corset. There were only a few couples left on the dance floor, most having already danced themselves out, giving the impression that they had the whole room to themselves. Somehow it felt that way, too, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist and there was only the two of them, gliding effortlessly around the floor.

  And he was hardly pretending to be in love any more. And neither was she... Which meant that they were really and truly in love... Didn’t it?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‘Why exactly are we up so early?’ Cassius stretched his arms above his head at the breakfast table.

  ‘It’s eleven o’clock.’ Millie stifled a yawn. ‘Although you’re right, it doesn’t feel as if we got much sleep.’

  ‘What time did we go to bed in the end?’

  ‘Around three o’clock. The Petches were the last to leave.’

  ‘And then you kept me awake for another hour.’

  She put down her butter knife with a clatter. ‘I kept you awake?’

  ‘Yes.’ He gave a nonchalant grin. ‘I told you not to look so irresistible. If you’d only looked haggard, then we might have gone straight to sleep.’ He let his gaze dip lazily over the front of her gown and then winked. ‘I thought we were stopping all that for a month anyway.’

  ‘We are. Only last night I forgot.’ She shot him an accusatory look. ‘And I notice you didn’t remind me.’

  ‘There’s only so much you can expect of a man. Besides, I chose to believe you were joking about all that. I still do. However, there was something I wanted to talk to you about last night actually. Perhaps you’d care for a stroll on the terrace after breakfast instead?’ He picked up his cup of hot chocolate as if he were making a toast. ‘In the meantime, I think that we can call the ball a great success. You’re the toast of the county.’

  ‘Oh, dear, that reminds me. Lady Fentree wants us to throw a party for the local gentry.’

  ‘Lady Fentree can go hang. We’ll do what we want.’

  She smiled and picked up her knife again, feeling a warm glow at the words. What we want, as if they were a real husband and wife...

  ‘Lady Falconmore.’ Kendrew entered the room bearing a small tray. ‘A letter came for you this morning, my lady.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Millie smiled up at the butler, waiting until he’d left again before leaning towards Cassius. ‘Did you speak to him about Mrs Turner?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And we’ll see. I’ve told him it’s permitted, but the rest is up to him. With any luck the staff party tonight should do the trick.’

  ‘I do hope so.’ She tore open the letter. ‘I’d hate to think... Oh!’

  ‘Millie?’ Cassius darted around the table as she pressed a hand to her mouth. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘My sister Lottie...’ She pulled her hand away again. ‘She’s in Rayleigh!’

  ‘What’s wrong with that? I thought you said she was coming for Christmas?’

  ‘Yes, but she’s not alone. She’s here with a fiancé! She’s getting married!’

  ‘Oh.’ He went back to his own chair, relieved. ‘Well, that’s not so bad either, surely? This is the little sister who had a cold?’

  ‘That’s what she told us when we left London.’

  ’And now she has a fiancé?’ His lips curved. ‘Then maybe she wasn’t so sick, after all? Do you know the man?’

  ‘Yes, or at least I used to. His name is Jasper King and he owns an engineering company. Silas was an apprentice for him for a few years before he went to America.’ She shook her head in bewilderment. ‘I just don’t know what to think. How on earth could she even have met him again, let alone get engaged? We’ve only been away for two weeks.’

  ‘But a lot can happen in two weeks. No doubt she’s thinking the same thing about us.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose we might both have some explaining to do.’ She pushed her chair back and stood up. ‘Do you mind if I go and see her?’

  ‘Of course not. I’ll even accompany you, if you’ve no objections?’

  ‘None at all. I’d like you to meet her, only you should know...’ She paused awkwardly. ‘Lottie can be very forthright. She doesn’t believe in withholding her opinions.’

  ‘It must be a Fairclough trait, but I’m sure I can cope. I’m looking forward to meeting her.’

  * * *

  Millie leaned forward impatiently in the carriage as it rolled towards Rayleigh. Despite what she’d told Cassius, she was feeling somewhat anxious about introducing him to Lottie. There was so much to tell and to explain—to hear, too, apparently.

  ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if we get more snow in the next couple of days.’ Cassius reached for one of her hands, pulling it across on to his knee.

  ‘Just as long as I get to see Lottie first.’ She tipped her head so that it rested on his shoulder. ‘I don’t know why I’m so nervous.’

  ‘Are you worried about what she’ll think about us?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ She frowned. Why was she so worried? She and Lottie were close enough that she could tell her anything, but the truth was that she didn
’t know what exactly to say about her marriage, at least not yet. No matter how close she’d felt to Cassius the previous evening, neither of them had declared their feelings yet. She didn’t doubt her own, but what if she’d misinterpreted his words? She stole a discreet glance towards him. He was looking out of the window, though his fingers were absently stroking the back of her glove. She wondered if he was aware that he was doing it. For a man who claimed he wasn’t capable of love, he was surprisingly loving. What he’d said the previous evening about not being able to keep his hands off her was true, too. When they were in the same room, he was always finding reasons to touch her, to put an arm around her waist or to stroke her cheek. Not that she objected, only it didn’t seem like the behaviour of a man who couldn’t love... She only wished that she could have a few more days alone with him. Somehow Lottie’s arrival signalled an end to their honeymoon and something about that alarmed her even more. She actually had the bizarre impression that the carriage walls were closing around her.

  ‘Here we are.’ Cassius twisted his head towards her and she gave a guilty start, realising that she’d been staring.

  ‘So we are.’ She felt butterflies start to flutter and then flap wildly in her stomach as she looked out at the Malverlys’ house. ‘That was quick.’

  ‘Would you like me to wait outside for a few minutes? I can pretend to examine the axles or something.’

  ‘No.’ She smiled at the image. ‘You’re my husband. You should come with me.’

  ‘All right, but if you change your mind and want some time alone just give me a signal. Tug on your left earlobe.’

  ‘Just my left? I’ll try to remember.’

  The front door opened to admit them, though Millie had barely taken two steps into the hall before Lottie came flying out of the drawing room and flung her arms around her.

  ‘You came!’