Mistletoe Mischief

the letter he'd written to his friend in Bath was still in his pocket. He got up and went to the front of the summerhouse. 'You think I have been most unfair to you, don't you?' he said without looking back at her.

'Yes, I do,' she replied honestly.

He turned. 'What of your unfairness to Sophia Strickland when you attempted to seduce her husband?'

Megan's lips parted. 'Did-did Lady Evangeline tell you?'

'So my aunt knows, does she? I did not think she could. No, she didn't tell me, Miss Mortimer, I heard the sordid tale from Strickland himself.'

Megan felt dreadful. The entire world appeared to know what Ralph claimed had happened; and those like Sir Greville Seton were only too eager to believe him! She composed herself, determined to be as dignified as possible. 'Mr. Strickland did not tell the truth, Sir Greville, whatever you may wish to think to the contrary, and before you call me a liar, perhaps you should know that Lady Jane told Lady Evangeline about it. She did not attempt to defend her son; indeed, she admitted that he was at fault, not me.'

'And still dismissed you? Oh, come now…'

'She preferred that to another long estrangement from her only family.'

Greville studied her. 'You sound very plausible, Miss Mortimer.'

'Which means that either I am telling the truth, or my acting abilities far outstrip yours.'

He gave an unwilling laugh. 'Well, that would not be so hard to achieve.'

'I will not argue, for you are undoubtedly the very worst actor I have ever encountered.'

'I perceive that you are not one to spare a man's blushes.'

'Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap,' she replied. Why should she spare his blushes? He certainly didn't spare hers!

He gave her a wry look. 'So the Bible is on your side, is it?'

'That I do not presume to claim, sir, but Lady Evangeline certainly is. Speak to her if you cannot bring yourself to believe me. She will tell you that I was Mr. Strickland's victim, not his pursuer.' Megan felt a sudden inexplicable urge to tell him about Oliver, and before she knew it, the words were tripping from her tongue. 'There is something I think you should know, Sir Greville, but it must not go any further. Not even Lady Evangeline is party to this.'

'A dark secret, Miss Mortimer?'

'Not dark, redheaded. Oliver March is my cousin.'

He was startled. 'He's what?'

'He is the kinsman who threw me out of my home and obliged me to seek my living. It is a relationship we are both at pains to keep quiet. He naturally wishes to keep his past actions from Miss Holcroft, and I value my position here too much to risk exposing someone who may be about to become Sir Jocelyn's son-in-law. Being dismissed unfairly once is bad enough, to court it a second time would be madness.' Megan lowered her gaze, and wondered if it would have been better to have held her tongue.

Greville folded his arms. 'Well, I suppose that explains your dislike for him.' He looked intently at her. 'May I ask why you've decided to tell me?'

'I don't really know. I suddenly wanted you to know.' She lowered her eyes. 'Perhaps it is just that I needed to confide in someone.'

'I would have thought I was the last person on God's own earth you would choose to confide in.'

'So would I,' she answered with heartfelt candor.

'Well, you have my word that your secret about March is safe with me.' The ghost of a smile played around his lips. 'You intrigue me, Miss Mortimer, and your company is certainly never boring.'

'Is that a compliment, or would I be wise to regard it as another barb?'

'It was definitely a compliment.' For the first time his smile was sincere and warm.

Chapter 22

It was almost time to leave for the ball, and Megan was waiting nervously in her room for a footman to inform her she should go down to the hall. The white evening gown fitted her quite perfectly, and Evangeline had sent Annie to dress her hair into an elaborate knot from which there fell several heavy ringlets. The new comb, adorned with a posy of pansies from the garden, was fixed to the knot, and the little black mask was in place. Her attire was completed by a gold-spangled reticule, a gold-embroidered cashmere shawl, and a fan, all of which were borrowed from Evangeline because Megan had no such things of her own.

She stood by the window in a veritable lather of apprehension. How would she be received tonight? Lady Jane would never have dreamed of taking her to such an occasion, but it was clear that Evangeline did not intend her to keep discreetly out of the way. How would Brighton society react to discovering a presumptuous companion in its midst? More than that, a presumptuous companion who had the face to appear on Sir Greville Seton's arm! Would she be seen as a servant who had no business among the ton? Or as a gentlewoman who through no fault of her own had suffered a terrible reversal of fortune? Probably the former, it being a regrettable fact that the beau monde was not generally disposed to be tolerant; besides, it was what she herself thought, but at least the school for young ladies in Bath had provided excellent dancing tuition, so the overbold employee would not make a spectacle of herself. Except perhaps at the new waltz, of which Evangeline had spoken at dinner earlier in the evening.

'You mark my words, the waltz will soon become the dance. I dare say it will take time to become acceptable at Almack's, but then everything takes time at Almack's,' she had declared to the table in general, as Edward, still hobbling slightly, served the lemon sole.

'And when did you encounter this astonishing new measure, Aunt E?' Greville inquired.

'About two months ago at the Marine Pavilion. Prinny himself instructed me in its intricacies, and at first it made me so giddy that I had to sit down again; but it was not long before I was whirling away like a dervish.' Evangeline smiled. 'It is a most immodest dance, you know, for the gentleman holds his lady around the waist. Did you ever hear of such a thing? Mrs. Fitzherbert was heard to remark that in her opinion it amounted to the first step in seduction!'

Rupert laughed. 'And was that Prinny's intention where you were concerned, Aunt E?'

'Certainly not!'

Greville smiled. 'Well, I have encountered the waltz as well, and believe that something so shocking can only become exceedingly popular. In fact, I predict it will become all the rage.'

Evangeline nodded. 'I could not agree more, sir, although it certainly will not be danced publicly in Brighton with our present master of ceremonies. Captain Wade is too old and set in his ways to countenance such a radical new thing. I am relieved he will not be in charge tonight, for he has become such a stick-in-the-mud that he can clear a room almost as swiftly as anything Garsington!'

Megan smiled as she remembered the conversation, but then the sound of singing attracted her attention outside, and she opened the window to listen properly. An occasional snowflake was borne through the darkness as two rather inebriated workmen staggered past the remains of Great East Street, singing Good King Wenceslaus at the top of their lungs.

'Thou art beautiful tonight, lady,' Rollo said suddenly behind her.

She turned quickly. 'Master Witherspoon?'

'Thou knowest another spirit in this house?'

She smiled. 'No, of course not. Where are you?'

'By fire, candle, and moon shalt thou see me, mistress.' The wraith stepped across the fireplace, and she saw his faint outline against the flames.

'Have you come to tell me how badly I read this afternoon?'

'No, lady, for thy reading was well enough. I have come to see thy fripperies for the ball. I vow thou hast chosen well, and will shine among thy peers.'

'It's kind of you to say so, sir, but I doubt there will be many there tonight who will wish to hear themselves termed my peers.'

'Then, sweetness, shall I simply say that thou art peerless?' the ghost said gallantly.

Megan smiled. 'You are incorrigible, sir. Will we have the pleasure of your company tonight?'