A Match Made in Mistletoe: A Regency Novella Read online

  “Should you hold me so tight?” she whispered.

  “Probably not.”

  “I like it.”

  With no music, they faltered to a stop. He rubbed his chin on the soft hair at her crown. “I’m beginning to think that you like a lot of things that aren’t good for you.”

  “Aren’t you good for me?” she murmured, and her hand slid along his shoulder to curl around his neck.

  Desire surged, hot and invincible. He swallowed to moisten a dry mouth and told himself to push her away.

  He didn’t.

  For a sweet interval, they embraced like lovers.

  “Start singing,” he growled. “Or take the consequences.”

  She lifted her head and for one sizzling second, he thought all his dreams might come true. That she’d say she wanted him and not Paul Garside. And that she didn’t give a rat’s arse if the whole world knew it.

  Her eyes flickered down, and she picked up the inane little tune again. Hesitant, but true. And he went back to circling her around the room.

  “So this is where you are,” Lady Talbot said from near the door.

  Serena gasped and tugged free of Giles. She looked so guilty, one might think she’d been committing murder instead of dancing with an old friend. “Mamma…”

  Giles pretended a nonchalance he didn’t feel. Over the years, he’d learned a little about dalliance. The appearance of innocence counted for much when caught in a compromising position. “Lady Talbot, Serena was showing me how she waltzes.”

  Serena’s mother, blond and slender like her daughter, leveled an unreadable gaze upon him. “So I see.”

  Serena had gathered her poise. “Giles was being unsociable, so I came looking for him.”

  That was true, as far as it went. A girl’s mother didn’t need to know about kissing lessons and dawn rendezvous.

  “It’s time you both rejoined the party. We missed you.”

  Giles heard no hint of criticism, just the acceptance he always received at Torver House. Or, a less welcome theory, perhaps like everyone else, Lady Talbot was so used to her daughter pining after Paul that she saw no harm in Serena dancing with Giles.

  Much less welcome.

  “Of course, Lady Talbot.” He presented his arm to Serena, but she gave a minuscule shake of her head. He glanced between mother and daughter and made his exit with a bow.

  He paused outside, worried that Serena’s mother intended to scold. If she did, he’d step in to defend his beloved.

  “Mamma, I’m sorry for deserting the party,” Serena said.

  “No matter, darling girl. It’s Christmas, and nobody’s standing on ceremony. If you hadn’t come to fetch Giles, I would have. He doesn’t understand that he’s one of the family.”

  “I really like him, Mamma. Frederick is lucky to have such a friend.”

  He winced at the word “like.” But pique couldn’t dampen his gratitude and affection for this remarkable family.

  “I’ve always thought so. Paul arrives sure of a welcome, whereas Giles hangs back because he doesn’t want to impose.”

  “Paul’s a good man, too,” Serena said sharply.

  The warmth in Giles’s heart cooled. Although she was right. Paul was a good man, damn it. And he’d make her a fine husband.

  “Indeed he is, sweetheart. And he’s desperate to dance with you again, so don’t keep him waiting.”

  Giles had heard enough. He turned and trudged toward the great hall and an evening that promised to be pure torture.

  Chapter Six

  * * *

  As soon as Serena returned to the great hall, her sisters commandeered her to play the piano. Belinda and Mary had both taken their turns, and now they joined the dancing as if they were carefree girls, instead of wives and mothers.

  Luckily Serena’s fingers were so familiar with the quadrilles and cotillions and reels that they didn’t betray her distraction. After those disturbing moments in Giles’s arms, she welcomed a chance to restore her composure. Moments as disturbing in their way as this afternoon’s passionate kisses.

  During recent days, she’d felt like a stranger in her own skin. Dancing with Giles, she’d felt as if at last she was in the right place.

  Then her mother had interrupted them, and Giles had left her, and she was back to feeling lost and unhappy.

  After far too long, she felt enough herself to glance up from her music. Under the boughs of Christmas greenery that decorated the hall, her parents were dancing together, looking like April and May despite over thirty years of marriage. Frederick and the bailiff’s pretty daughter made eyes at each other over the punchbowl. Belinda and Mary and their husbands had paused for breath near the refreshments table.

  Inevitably her eyes found Giles. He swung the vicar’s plump chatterbox of a wife in a wild circle that left her gasping, before he set her under the kissing bough for a peck on the cheek. Since he’d returned to the party, Giles had made a point of partnering the older women and shy girls. She began to suspect that a wide streak of kindness lurked beneath Giles Farraday’s worldly ennui.

  As she played the end of the reel, Serena smiled at him. When he smiled back, her heart took a disconcerting swoop, and the breath jammed in her throat. Her fingers stumbled, and she blushed at her clumsiness.

  “How’s my girl tonight?” Paul slid onto the long piano bench beside her.

  Usually when Paul singled her out, she was overjoyed. He was such a golden god of a man, any mere mortal felt blessed in his presence. So why tonight did his self-assurance strike a false note? As though the words were right, but the man speaking them was not.

  “Am I your girl?” she asked in a cool tone, beginning a jig and hitting true notes from one end of the keyboard to the other.

  “Of course you are.” He put his arm around her. “You’ve always been my girl, and you always will be.”

  She twisted her shoulders, finding his touch oppressive and his confidence grating. Although nowhere near as grating as the sight of Giles dancing with that hussy Letty Duggan.

  “I’m trying to play the piano, Paul.” She struggled to hide her irritation.

  She must have succeeded. Paul didn’t notice. Nor did he take his arm away. “I’ve hardly seen you since I arrived.”

  “You know what pandemonium it is when everyone’s here for Christmas.”

  Giles smiled at Letty as if she shone brighter than the stars. Serena struck a sour note. She quickly brought the piece to an end—and felt like cheering when Giles escorted Letty back to her mother and sister.

  “I’ll take over, if you like,” Mary said, bustling across. “You’re getting tired.”

  “You mean I’m playing as if I’ve got ten thumbs.”

  “I didn’t like to say that.” Her sister cast Paul an approving glance. “It’s time you two danced. No need to take your duties to extremes, Serena.”

  “I do like your sister,” Paul said with a laugh, as he drew Serena to her feet and onto the floor.

  It shouldn’t rankle that he hadn’t asked her if she wanted to dance. Nor should it rankle that Giles lingered chatting with the Duggans. When Letty’s tinkling laugh rang out, Serena hid a scowl. The local belle wore a dress Serena hadn’t seen before. That shade of green didn’t suit Letty’s complexion. In fact, her color was quite muddy.

  “Serena, I’m saying I like your sister,” Paul said, and Serena realized she was woolgathering. Which had never happened before in his company.

  “She likes you, too,” Serena said, lining up for a quadrille. She wondered why she didn’t wish it was a waltz. Whirling around the room, clasped tight in Paul’s arms, had always been her definition of bliss.

  Until she’d kissed Giles…

  “I hope the whole family likes me.” Taking her hand to walk up the line, he sent her a meaningful look. “Including you.”

  “You know we all like you,” she said lightly, wondering why she wasn’t in alt to be his partner. This Christmas, she spent a cursed l
ot of time wondering, and she didn’t enjoy it one bit.

  “But do you like me in particular?” His tone indicated that there could only be one answer to that question.

  “Stop fishing for compliments, Paul.”

  She carried away the memory of his astonished expression, as they peeled apart and worked their way down the line of dancers. By the time they came back to one another, she’d had time to feel ashamed of her grumpiness—and to note that Giles was still talking to Letty Duggan.

  “I’m sorry.” She strove to come up with a reason for her sharpness. Apart from the fact that she’d obviously lost her mind.

  “Don’t apologize.” Paul smiled with the effortless charm so essential to him. “I deserved a set-down. This is neither the time nor place for the discussion I want to have.”

  Oh, dear. His graciousness made her feel small and mean. As small and mean as she felt for wanting to rip every rich red hair from Letty’s lovely head.

  “Let’s just enjoy the evening.” She hoped Paul didn’t hear the desperate note underlying her suggestion.

  “Excellent plan,” he said easily. “But did you hear what I said?”

  She tore her gaze from Giles, who appeared far too cheerful for a brooding loner, devil take him. “You apologized when you didn’t have to. I’m acting like a witch.”

  “Never.”

  “You’re too kind,” she said, with her first real smile since he’d joined her on the piano stool.

  Paul could be a little smug—a boy coddled by his late parents and generally lauded as a paragon of looks and behavior would hardly grow up to be anything else. But he had a good heart. He wasn’t spiteful, and he didn’t bear grudges. Even when her childish adoration had become an embarrassment to his adolescent self, he’d remained carelessly kind.

  His uncharacteristic seriousness persisted. “I have something important to say to you, Serena. I hope after Christmas, you’ll have time and attention to give me a hearing.”

  Her step faltered, and her stomach dropped about a mile. Not with excitement. “Paul…”

  She couldn’t mistake his meaning. After years of wanting Paul Garside to notice her, her prayers had been answered. She needed no snares and stratagems after all. Giles had been right. Her quarry was willing to come to her hand.

  And the thought made her feel sick.

  It was time to have a stern word with herself about constancy.

  Then she needed to fall on her knees to the Almighty and offer humble thanks for making all her dreams come true.

  But what on earth could she say now? Luckily, Paul’s unfailing self-confidence rescued her.

  “Cat got your tongue, Serena?” With a tender smile, he touched her cheek, despite the fact that they were surrounded with people. “That doesn’t often happen. I feel quite proud of myself.”

  “I…”

  Blast. She sounded a complete nitwit.

  His laugh conveyed the affection she’d never doubted. “As I said, this isn’t the right time. But wear a pretty dress on Boxing Day and don’t stray far from that impressive kissing bough. I have plans for it—and for you.”

  Before she could dredge up some response, it was their turn to separate again. Thank heaven for the dance’s complicated steps.

  The moment she left Paul’s side, Serena sucked in a deep breath, but nothing shifted the stubborn lump of dread lodged in her chest.

  Chapter Seven

  * * *

  Giles heard Serena’s quick step as he waited in the stable yard, holding the saddled horses. With the late winter sunrise, it was still dark, so the rendezvous held a delightfully clandestine air.

  “Giles, you’re ready for me.”

  For the life of him, he couldn’t tell whether she was pleased to see him or not, as she walked into the circle of light the lantern cast from above the stable doors. “It seemed unfair to disturb the grooms.”

  Although a groom had poked his head out from the rooms upstairs to check that nobody was stealing Sir George’s fine bloodstock at this unearthly hour. When he saw Giles, who had hung around the Talbot stables since boyhood, he’d grunted a greeting and shuffled back to bed.

  “Unfair, not to mention indiscreet.” They spoke in whispers, heightening the conspiratorial atmosphere. It was deathly cold, and their breath formed clouds before their mouths.

  “Well, yes.” This time he couldn’t mistake Serena’s sour tone. As he led her horse forward, he cast her a puzzled glance. His horse was well trained enough to stand waiting. “Would you rather we didn’t go?”

  She sighed. “I keep forgetting that you’re a rake, and intrigues like this are second nature to you.”

  He frowned. “You asked for my help because I’m a rake.”

  “That’s true. It’s unjust to criticize your worldliness when I’m taking advantage of it.”

  “Quite so.” He caught her around the waist, surprising a gasp out of her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Good Lord, you’re skittish in the mornings.” Under his hands, she was as taut as a violin string. “I’m going to toss you up into the saddle. Or would you rather use the mounting block?” His voice lowered. “If you don’t want me to touch you, you’ve dragged me out of bed under false pretenses, which is dashed unsporting on such a cold morning.”

  She sidled away. “Shh.”

  “We’ve often ridden together. And our early start won’t be a secret, once the grooms see both horses are gone.”

  “I know.” In the flickering lamplight, her expression was difficult to read. “But we’ve never ridden alone. And we’ve never gone riding for the purpose of kisses.”

  He smiled. He liked the sound of that. He’d worried that her jumpiness meant she’d changed her mind. “They can’t read your thoughts, Serena.”

  “Which is a blessing,” she said fervently.

  Damn, that sounded even better.

  When she’d kissed him, he’d had a hard time remembering that she used him as a conduit to Paul. But last night in the library, he’d swear that her attention had belonged to him. At least for part of the time.

  Then she’d spent the rest of the night smiling at Garside as if the sun shone out of his arse.

  “So you want to do this?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Faint heart never won fair baronet.”

  Actually from what Giles had seen last night, Serena could stick Paul’s head over her mantelpiece as a trophy, he was so bloody won.

  “Then on we go.” Trying to sound as if he didn’t resent her devotion to Paul, he lifted her onto the black mare.

  He mounted his gray gelding and they rode out of the yard together. She was a fine horsewoman, and the strengthening light allowed him to admire the fit of the forest green riding habit trimmed with black frogging.

  “In that get-up, you’re ready to launch a military campaign.”

  Beneath the curling brim of her stylish black hat with its jaunty green scarf, she looked fresh and lovely. The cold added an enchanting glow to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

  Anticipation made his heart leap. Was she excited because she looked forward to his kisses?

  “Is there a compliment hidden somewhere there?”

  “You’re getting above yourself, Miss Talbot.”

  She laughed. “I’ll tell myself there was.”

  He took the path through the woods behind the house. He knew the Talbot estate better than he knew his own. It hadn’t taken him long to choose the location for the next installment in Serena’s sensual education.

  “I can guess where you’re taking me,” she said, over the crunch of hooves on last year’s leaves.

  “I’m sure you can.”

  “I’m glad we’re not staying outside. It’s such a cold day.”

  The rising sun tinged the stark winter landscape with gold but little warmth. “Don’t worry, my pretty little miss.” The smile he gave her was full of exaggerated lust. “I’ll soon warm you up.”
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  “Perhaps I’ll be the one to warm you up,” she retorted.

  As if one glance from her wasn’t enough to make him burn. This morning with kisses in the offing, his blood pumped with barely controlled impatience. But still he must play the game, for fear his urgency might terrify her into running away. “Reckless promises, Miss Talbot.”

  He couldn’t mistake the devilry in her eyes. “Not as reckless as I intend to be, my dear Lord Hallam.” She set her heels to her horse, and the mare broke into a canter.

  Giles gave a short laugh, as the heat inside him blazed high to defy the icy morning. He set off after Serena, and soon they were galloping through the trees. They were both breathless when she drew rein at a rustic Greek temple beside the silvery gray lake.

  She leaned down to pat her horse. “I guessed right?”

  “You did indeed. It will be more private than the church.”

  “Definitely in its favor.” She slid to the ground before he could dismount and help her. More was the pity. “You know, I almost had kittens when Paul tried the door.”

  “Kittens? That’s nothing. Mine were elephants and rhinos.” He jumped down and crossed to tie his horse to the railing beside the pretty little structure with its Corinthian columns and glass domed roof.

  “One would never guess.” Serena followed, leading her mare. “You handled him so cleverly.”

  Giles wasn’t so sure Paul believed his newfound interest in funerary monuments. “At least I kept you out of harm’s way.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You know, you’re a quick learner.” He turned to her. “If you kiss old Paul the way you kissed me, he’ll be putty in your hands. You can start choosing your bridesmaids.”

  Flicking her crop against her gloved palm, she studied him. “Are you trying to avoid another lesson?”

  No, he was trying to do the right thing. However belated. However halfhearted. “No. But I’m not sure Paul would see that all this is purely for his benefit.”