A Mistletoe Masquerade

'You are sitting on my bed,' Rowan protested.

'You didn't want to go to sleep yet, did you?'

'No, and certainly not with you in the room. Get up. It is most improper.'

'Anyone would think you were expecting a chaperon to burst into the room,' he said, his eyes laughing at her again. 'You really have not been out in the world very long, have you?'

'Long enough,' Rowan observed grimly. 'Out.'

'What about our little conspiracy?' He got to his feet, all long-limbed elegance.

Rowan controlled her breathing as her singing teacher had taught her, went to the door and held it open.

'We can discuss it perfectly well in daylight with the benefit of having considered it overnight.' She was pleased with the calm way she pronounced this. No one would guess what effect Lucas's nearness was having on her.

'Very well. It is Sunday tomorrow. Will you allow me to escort you to church?' He stopped in front of her.

Rowan fixed her gaze on the cut steel buttons of his waistcoat. 'I am far too lowly for your escort, Mr Lucas.'

'No one will wonder at it. My master is courting your mistress. What could be more natural than that we should mirror that?'

Startled, she looked up. 'Courting?'

'Merely a masquerade, Miss Daisy. There is no cause for alarm.' He bent his head and his mouth brushed hers-warm, firm. Outrageous. 'See?'And then, before she could react, he was out of the door and vanishing into the dark spiral of the stairs.

'Oh, you…!' Rowan shut the door, turned the key and stalked back to the bed in a swirl of skirts and indignation. She was no longer just being flirted with by a valet, she had been kissed by one. It was outrageous, it was shocking, it could not possibly go any further.

But. But with his help she could save Penny from Lord Danescroft. And she liked him, impertinent wretch that he was. Attractive, masculine, amusing, impertinent wretch.

'Oh, dear.' A charred piece of wood broke and fell into the hearth. Rowan went to lift it with the tongs and

laid a few more pieces on the fire. Somehow she did not think she was going to get to sleep very quickly tonight.

Briskly she drew the thin cotton curtains over the window, wondering what sort of view she was going to have in the morning light. Then she hung her nightgown over the back of the upright chair in front of the fire to warm while she undressed and washed.

The water had cooled; the room was still chill. As she slipped into the nightgown she wondered if that was enough to account for the fact that she felt slightly shivery. She hoped it was. But the cold could not be blamed for the fact that her lips tingled, or that her imagination kept straying to an unknown room somewhere in the house where Lucas was perhaps undressing even now. His black coat would be hung on the back of a chair. He would be shrugging off his waistcoat, standing there in the candlelight in those tight breeches and the clinging white linen of his shirt…

With a gasp of alarm Rowan snatched up her toothbrush and scrubbed her teeth with enough energy to take off the enamel. Never in her well-regulated life had she let herself speculate on what any man of her acquaintance looked like undressing, let alone with his clothes off.

She just hoped Penny would appreciate all her efforts when she was able to escape from Tollesbury Court unattached. Because, besides aching feet, insipient chilblains and aching muscles, Rowan very much feared her moral fibre was going to be severely impaired by this experience.

December 23rd

Penelope seemed more than usually distracted when Rowan, stifling her yawns, came into the room.

'Did you sleep well, Miss Penelope?' she asked, one eye on the chambermaid who had drawn the curtains and was whisking the hearth into order before rekindling the fire.

'Yes, thank you Ro… Lawrence.' She sat up against the vast white pillows and rubbed her eyes. 'But I had such odd dreams. I cannot quite recall them, but I feel strangely flustered this morning.'

Rowan considered her friend would feel even more flustered if she so much as hinted at the nature of the dreams she herself had experienced. Unfortunately she could recall them only too well, and as they had consisted mainly of variations on being kissed by Lucas, flustered was a mild description of her feelings.

'Thank you,' Rowan said to the maid, who was gathering up her brushes and bucket. 'Please have Miss Maylin's hot chocolate sent up. A nice big pot and two cups. I don't care what they think downstairs,' she added once the girl had gone. 'I am not starting the day without my chocolate.'

'Have you not had any breakfast?' Penny asked sympathetically.

'I had some toast and preserves and a cup of coffee at six. Luckily they sent up a girl with hot water at half past five, or I would still be in bed asleep.'

'Oh, poor Rowan. Is this proving very horrid?'

'Very odd, certainly.' Rowan frowned, trying to work out why, despite everything, she seemed to be enjoying herself. It was very strange. 'But it will be worth it, I am certain.' Among the worries keeping her awake half the night had been whether to tell Penny about her pact with Lucas to foil the betrothal. On reflection, she thought not. Penny was certain to be shocked.

'You are not to worry about Lord Danescroft,' she added bracingly as she opened a clothes press in search of Penny's best morning dress for church. 'I am sure we can succeed in putting him off.'

'He is very attentive,' Penny observed. 'He has asked if I would like to join him in his phaeton to and from the church. Do you think I ought?'

'Why, certainly.' Rowan opened the door to admit the maid with the chocolate, and carried on carefully setting out Penny's garments while the girl was in the room. 'Quite unexceptional.' The girl went out and Rowan frowned, a pair of silk stockings screwed up in her hand. 'There will be no need for a chaperon in an open carriage like that, so you can say what you like. We must think of something shocking.' She poured the chocolate, handed Penny her cup and went to perch on the end of the bed to drink her own. 'I know-talk about how much you like to make wagers.'

'What? But I cannot even play cards without making a mull of it,' Penny wailed. 'Papa shouts at me.'

'No, not cards. Say you enjoy putting wagers on things, and then confess you are always losing money and never have any of your allowance left. What a bad example he will think you would be for his daughter! Don't forget to look contrite and say you wish you could stop but you can't.'

'I'll try,' Penny said dubiously. 'But I am not a very good actress, and as for telling an untruth…'

'Better a white lie than a lifetime married to that man,' Rowan said forcibly. 'I am walking to church with his valet. I will tell him about your gambling habit as well.' She glanced at the clock. 'Lord! Look at the time. We must get you dressed and down to breakfast before your godmother comes in search of you.'

'Poor man,' Penny said, climbing out of bed and dragging on her wrapper.

'Who?'

'Lord Danescroft. All these people talking about him and intriguing about him. And now I have to lie to him.'

'Penny,' Rowan said firmly, 'you have a heart of butter. If you start feeling sorry for the Earl, of all people, you are lost.'

Penny still looked dubious. Rowan had a flash of inspiration prompted, she knew all too well, by her current preoccupation with Lucas.

'Has your step mother explained what happens between a man and a woman? You know-in bed?'

'Yes.' Penny blushed scarlet. 'It sounds dreadful'

'Well, imagine having to do that with Lord Danescroft,' Rowan said.

Her friend's blush drained away most satisfactorily, leaving her white to the lips.

'Surely you can manage a few fibs to prevent that, can't you?'

'Oh, yes.' Penny nodded vehemently. 'Oh, yes, I am sure I can.'