Holiday House Parties (17 page)

“The mission that I undertook for your sake. To play your lover for the edification of Lord Lovebourne.” He pulled the rocker to the bedside and sat down. “I do believe, Elinor,” he added cheerfully, “that your Julian looked a bit put out when I announced my intention to stay behind and to keep you company.”

Elinor's expression changed. “See here, Miles, you're off the mark. I didn't ask you to do this to make Julian jealous. I suggested this masquerade merely to convince him that the rupture of our troth is not his fault but my own selfish desire.”

“Well, ma'am, that may have been
your
aim,” he said with a tinge of annoyance, “but it isn't mine.”

She eyed him warily. “Are you saying that you
want
him to be jealous? I didn't think you capable of engaging in such … such devious strategems.”

“Be truthful, my girl. Isn't that what
you
want?”

“Of course not!” she declared vehemently. “I don't want to win him by chicanery.”

“Damnation, ma'am,” he growled, “it isn't chicanery. It's … er … clarification.”

Her eyebrows rose. “
Clarification
?”

“You said before that you wished Julian could see you through my eyes. Well, this is how we'll get him to do it. Clarify his vision, so to speak.”

“But that was not at all my intention when I … when I …”

“When you named me as your lover. I know. But when I agreed to play this game, I did it with intentions of my own.”

“What intentions?”

“To make that idiot Loveboume see the error of his ways.”

“His ways are not in error. All he did was fall in love with someone else.”

“That's the whole point. To be fool enough to choose the empty-headed Felicia Fordyce over you is error of the worst sort.”

“Well, whatever you wish to call it, Miles, he's smitten with her. Moreover, it's unethical, immoral, and … and …
humiliating
to me to have you
trick
Julian into changing his mind.”

“Unethical and immoral indeed!” Miles snapped, rising and glowering at her in impatience. “See here, woman, there's no need to be so overly scrupulous. I've told you once, and I'll tell you again, what I'm doing is not trickery. It's merely restoring the fellow to his senses.”

Elinor blinked up at him, confused. This behavior was not what she expected from a man who had almost confessed to being in love with her himself, and not more than ten hours before. “I don't understand you, Miles,” she muttered, her voice quivering. “I thought …”

“You thought what?”

She colored. “I mean … didn't you tell me that you … when you kissed me … didn't it mean …?”

He turned his back to her. “It didn't mean anything.”

“Didn't it?”

“No! It was just a … a momentary aberration.”

“Oh.” She felt a definite sinking feeling in her chest. “A momentary aberration. I see.”

“No, you don't see,” he barked, wheeling round to her. “You're muddling things up, bringing up trickery and chicanery and questions of the ethics of this. Let's not get ourselves muddled in ethics. Your claim to ethical behavior went out the window when you lied about loving me. As for
my
ethics in this matter, I excuse my dishonesty by the purity of my motive. The ends justifying the means, and all that.”

“What ends? What motive?”

“Your
happiness
, of course. To help you win your heart's desire. What other motive would I have?”

“Do you think I can be happy if I win my heart's desire by trickery?”

“Yes, you can, if that is truly your heart's desire. If you truly love the fellow.” His eyes burned into hers. “Well? Do you love him or don't you?”

Elinor stared up at him, the import of the question bursting on her like an explosion. Did she love Julian? Did she? She was suddenly beset with confusion. Wasn't the answer a simple yes? Yesterday the answer would have been yes without a moment of doubt. She'd taken her feelings for Julian for granted for so long, it hadn't, until this moment, occurred to her to question them. “I … I …” she stammered, “I suppose I—after all, I've waited five years …”

“That is no answer. Yes or no?”

She suddenly found herself bereft of voice. Something within her was making it impossible to answer him.

He stared at her with a burning intensity for a moment before expelling an explosive breath. “Confound it, girl, you don't have to answer. I can see it in your eyes. I always could read your thoughts in those enigmatic eyes of yours. The answer is yes. If it weren't, you wouldn't be afraid to say so.”

She had to reply somehow. “I … suppose that's true,” she managed.

“Very well, then,” he said, stalking to the door, “there's nothing more to be said. As far as I'm concerned, if you want the fellow, you shall have him! Wrapped, tied, and delivered. And before this deuced holiday is over!”

9

Christmas morning dawned crisp and clear. The motes of the air, frozen into tiny crystals of ice, sparkled in the sunlight. Elinor, enlivened by the restoration of her health and by the brilliance of the morning, threw open her window and breathed deeply. She was well, her head was clear, and she would be free to leave her bedroom by the afternoon. It was going to be a glorious day.

Before she'd breathed her fill, there was a knock at the door. Expecting the caller to be her mother (who was certain to berate her for standing barefoot at an open window), she hopped quickly back into bed and drew up her covers. But it was not her mother. Her first visitor of the day was Cousin Felicia. The girl burst into Elinor's room with an eager step and eyes alight with excitement. “Did you hear what happened last night?” she asked, perching on the side of Elinor's bed. “One of the carriages skidded on a patch of ice and the two right wheels sideslipped into a ditch.”

“Goodness!” Elinor exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. “Was anyone hurt?”

“No, but the Earl and Lady Lovebourne had to squeeze into the other coach with Mama, Papa, and Aunt Martha. There was no room for anyone else, so Julian and I waited inside the tilted carriage while the coachman went for help. It took so long for the livery men to come and right the coach that we missed the entire church service.”

“That
is
too bad. You must have been freezing!”

“No, I had a lap robe, and Julian gave me his muffler. We had a lovely chat, he and I. All about you.”

Elinor was taken aback. “About
me
?”

“Yes, he told me about your courtship, about how he met you at an assembly ball while visiting a school friend at Leyburn, and how he drove his phaeton up from London every week thereafter to woo you.”

“Goodness, is that all he could find to speak to you about?” Elinor asked, astounded. “How very dull for you!”

“No, I truly enjoyed it. You are very fortunate in your betrothed, Elinor. He's not only the handsomest creature on God's green earth, but he's utterly charming.”

“Yes, he is.” Elinor studied her younger cousin curiously. Felicia's manner was so open and free of guilt that it was clear the girl had no designs on Julian at all. But even more astonishing, it appeared that Julian had taken no advantage of the opportunity the accident had provided to try to attach her. What was the matter with the fellow? Why, if he was smitten with Felicia, did he spend those precious moments of privacy reminiscing about a romantic involvement with someone else? He'd seemed so proficient in the art of dalliance a few days ago; why was he suddenly behaving like a clod? “Didn't he spend any time talking about
you
, Felicia?” she asked.

Felicia shrugged. “Perhaps at first, to be polite. But it was you he had on his mind.”

“I'm quite surprised. I had the distinct impression he found
you
delightful.”

“Me? Why do you believe that? He thinks of me as your silly little cousin, that's all.”

“No, that's not true. I believe he's quite taken with you. Would you not like it if he were? After all, you did say you find
him
charming and ‘the handsomest fellow on God's green earth.'”

Felicia blinked at her in puzzlement. “Yes, I did say that, of course. And he is.”

“Don't you like him, then?”

“Yes, very much. As a partner for
you
.”

“Only in that way? But, Felicia, let us suppose for a moment that Julian and I were not betrothed. In those circumstances, wouldn't you have the slightest urge to attach him to yourself?”

“As a
suitor
, you mean?” Felicia's eyebrows rose in amusement, as if the mere suggestion were a ridiculous impossibility. “Good
heavens
, no! Your Julian may be handsome, but he's much too old for me. Besides, I'm madly in love with Bertie, you know.”

“Bertie?”

“Bertie Duffield. You know whom I mean. I've told you of him dozens of times. My friend Sarah's brother.”

“Oh. That Bertie. I see.” Elinor did remember hearing of a Bertie, but she hadn't paid mind to the name. Felicia had such a tendency to babble that it was sometimes difficult to sift the meaningful details from the dross. “And is this Bertie madly in love with you, too?” she asked, fascinated.

Felicia smiled in naughty delight. “Of course he is, though we haven't told a soul. Papa doesn't like him above half. We're waiting until Papa becomes used to him. In a few months, when Papa is softened up sufficiently, Bertie will ask for my hand. We have it all planned. Meanwhile, you won't give me away to Mama or anyone, will you, Elinor?”

Elinor assured her that her lips were sealed. But she couldn't help feeling very sorry for her once-betrothed. Before Julian could plead his cause, it was already a lost one. Poor Julian, she thought. He never had a chance.

After Felicia took her leave, it occurred to Elinor to wonder what would happen next. Would Julian, having been so quickly deflected from his amorous objective, now wish to reinstate the betrothal? Would he come to realize he loved Elinor after all? And if he did, would she be pleased? She
had
to be pleased, she supposed, for it would mean she could resume her life as she'd been planning it for the past five years. Wasn't that what she wanted?

But she knew, with a certainty that came from deep within her, that the answer was no. No, it was not what she wanted. In these few days since Julian's return, she'd learned to understand herself. Julian had been a girl's dream, but she was a woman now. And the woman she'd become had suddenly recognized her deeper dreams, dreams that in girlhood she'd pushed aside as impossible. But perhaps they were possible now. Miles Endicott had kissed her. That had made all the difference. She could now admit the truth: It was Miles she wanted, Miles she loved. No one else, not even the “handsomest creature on God's green earth” would do.

10

Miles Endicott, having no knowledge of this latest development, was determined to make good his promise to drop Lord Lovebourne—lock, stock, and barrel—at Elinor's feet. To that end, he appeared at the Selby house on Christmas Day at midmorning. He had no plan, other than to point out to Julian—with what he hoped would be a sufficient degree of subtlety to seem not to be doing so—the obvious superiority of Elinor Selby's character and person over those of that silly chit, Felicia Fordyce.

He'd made up his mind to accomplish his objective before they all sat down to Christmas dinner. Thus he wasted no time in bibble-babble with his hostess or the other guests but set about at once to find his quarry. He searched the breakfast room, the front and rear sitting rooms, and the drawing room before coming upon Lord Lovebourne in the deserted library. His lordship, dressed in riding clothes, was standing before the fireplace, his elbow resting on the mantel and his head lowered. He was staring down at the flames and absentmindedly hitting at the fender with his riding crop. From the condition of his mud-spattered breeches and boots, it was clear that he had just returned from a bruising ride. “Good morning, Lovebourne,” Miles said from the doorway.

Julian glanced over his shoulder at him. “Oh, it's you, Endicott,” he said sourly. “You're not looking for me, are you?”

“I was, but you don't seem in the mood for company,” Miles answered, deciding the time was not propitious. “I'll see you later, after you've imbibed more of the Christmas spirit.”

“You may as well come in now,” his lordship muttered. “I've no indication that the Christmas spirit will visit me at all this year.” He turned and beckoned Miles to a chair. “I'm not as fortunate as you, you know.”

Miles stepped over the threshold. “Fortunate as I?” he asked curiously. “In what way?”

“In your marital prospects, of course. You are a lucky dog, Endicott. Your Elinor is a pearl beyond price.”

Miles kept a puzzled eye on Julian as he sank down on a chair. “Yes, she is. But I was given to understand that you had your eye on another pearl.”

“More fool, I,” Julian muttered, turning back to stare at the fire. “I was blinded by the glow of youth.”

“Were you, indeed?” Miles, unable quite to believe that his task had, by some miraculous chance, already been accomplished, leaned forward in his chair and peered at Lovebourne intently. “But Felicia
does
have a glow,” he pointed out cautiously. “It hasn't worn off overnight, has it?”

“Miss Felicia Fordyce's glow has worn off for me. I was forced to spend two hours in her sole company last night, and it took no more than the first fifteen minutes to discover that the chit is a complete bore.”

“You don't say.”

“Talking about nothing but gowns and dancing shoes and the trouble her hairdresser has taken with her coiffure. Then she went on and on about her success at her come-out ball. A bit too taken with herself, Miss Fordyce is.”