Mistletoe Mischief

He was still engaged upon this little exercise when a landler was announced. Chloe turned quickly to Oliver. 'May I crave a favor of you?' she asked.

'Your wish is my command,' he replied eagerly.

She smiled sweetly. 'I want you to lead Miss Mortimer out for this measure.'

His smile vanished, and Megan wished the floor would open up and swallow her, but Chloe pressed on. 'She is the victim of a campaign of whispers, sir, and it is up to us to show we do not give a fig for such lies.'

'Please, Miss Holcroft-' Megan began, but Chloe put up a hand to silence her protest.

'I am set upon it, Miss Mortimer.'

Megan became agitated. 'Please, Miss Holcroft, it really doesn't matter-'

'It most certainly does!' Chloe fixed her large blue eyes upon Oliver, whose reluctance to comply with her request was only too evident. 'I'm sure you do not wish to disappoint me tonight, sir.'

'Er, no, of course not.' He did not want to be seen dancing with the cousin he had gone to such lengths to make the talk of the ball, but nor did he wish to offend Chloe, so with ill grace he extended a white-gloved hand. 'Miss Mortimer?'

Megan did not feel able to refuse, even though that was very much what she wished to do, so she reluctantly slipped her fingers into his. His grip tightened harshly as he led her on to the floor. The landler was an intimate measure for couples, not sets, and as the orchestra struck the opening chord, he linked her arms to hold her at the elbows. The dance commenced, and all she could see was the cold glitter of his eyes behind his mask, all she could hear were the two piercing voices of the women. Everything whirled almost dizzily past, and she glimpsed the sofa, where Evangeline and Sir Jocelyn were now in urgent conversation with Chloe and Rupert. Then Greville joined them, his face pale and angry as he gestured toward the room in general.

Megan's heart began to pound, and she felt so close to sobbing out loud that suddenly she couldn't bear it any longer. She came to an abrupt halt, and pulled away from Oliver. 'I-I cannot go on, sir,' she said.

Many nearby couples hesitated perceptibly, for attention was upon the two people now standing stock-still in the middle of the floor. Oliver was dismayed to find himself the center of this particular stage. She was the one who was meant to. be humiliated, not him! His thin veneer of manners cracked, and he lost his temper. 'By all means let us abandon this dance, madam! Believe me, I have no desire to be seen with you anyway!' he declared in a tone that was only too audible to the many listening ears. There were gasps and more whispers as he turned on his heel to walk away.

It was too much for Megan. Catching up her skirts, she fled. She didn't know where she was going, just that she needed to escape from the horrors of the ballroom. The main door of the assembly rooms stood open to the snowy night, and she halted on the threshold. Ship Street was white now, and a passing carriage made hardly a sound, except for the jingle of harness and the crunch of the wheels on the ever deepening carpet. The cold did not seem to touch her at all as she turned her face up to the flakes, striving not to cry. Red tearstained eyes would be the very last straw.

'Miss Mortimer?' Greville said, and she turned in dismay.

'Oh. Sir Greville…'

'What happened during that landler? Why did March walk away like that?' he asked, searching her face in the light that streamed out from behind him.

'Is it not obvious, sir? Please do not tell me that you do not know I am the scandal of the moment. My cousin did not wish to dance with such a shocking creature.'

'Then, why did he ask you?'

'Miss Holcroft insisted.' Megan searched in her reticule for her handkerchief. 'Anyway, it is all too much, and I've come out here for a little fresh air.'

'Fresh? Miss Mortimer, it is virtually arctic!' He smiled.

'I feel the heat,' she replied, managing a very small smile in return.

'Ah, yes, so you do.' He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms folded as he continued to look at her. 'I have heard what is being said of you here tonight, and think you should know that Ralph Strickland's name is being circulated as well.'

She looked quickly away. 'At least there is nothing more that can possibly come out.' Who had started it? Why, Oliver, of course, for who else would stoop so very low?

'I trust you do not think I had anything to do with it?' Greville said then.

'No, of course not. It would be impossible to prove, but I would guess my cousin to be the instigator.'

Greville's lips parted. When he had been keeping out of Sybil's way, he had seen Oliver speaking with her, Lady Garsington, and Mellish. Yes, Megan's blackguardly kinsman was the source!

Megan watched the expressions crossing his face. 'Please do not say anything to him, Sir Greville, for I am already infamous enough without him choosing to make things even worse for me.'

'The fellow needs to be taught a lesson.'

'I know, but I would prefer to let things die down.'

He hesitated, but then nodded. 'If that is your wish.'

'It is.'

Their eyes met, and he smiled a little. 'I do hope you are able to forgive me for the way I behaved when first we met.'

'It is forgotten, Sir Greville. Besides, you have redeemed yourself tonight.'

'Have I? If I hadn't scuttled off and left after begging you to…'

'Keep Miss Sybil Garsington away from you? Sir Greville, I do believe you think I tripped her on purpose!'

He straightened uncomfortably from the doorjamb. 'Did you?'

'Certainly not! It was an accident.'

He grinned a little sheepishly. 'And here I was thinking you'd gone to such noble lengths on my behalf.'

'What overweening male vanity,' she replied, but smiled back at him.

'That is what comes from being constantly pursued by hopeful brides.'

'One day you will meet someone you will not wish to avoid, sir.'

He laughed. 'Possibly. Although to be truthful I find the prospect of marriage a little daunting. So few unions are an unqualified success that I may take a leaf out of Aunt E's book and remain single.'

'But Lady Evangeline does not wish to remain single, sir,' Megan replied.

'What do you mean?'

'It may not be my place to say, but I have watched her when she is with Sir Jocelyn, and-'

'Sir Jocelyn?' Greville was taken aback.

'Haven't you noticed? She smiles like a young girl whenever he is near, and at such times her pink cheeks are not on account of her flushes.'

'But they have known each other almost all their lives.'

'So have Lord Rupert and Miss Holcroft,' she reminded him.

'True, but I am sure Aunt E only regards Sir Jocelyn as a dear, dear friend. There was someone once, but he broke her heart.'

'Who was he?'

'I don't know, but she carries his likeness in her locket.'

'So that's what is in it.' Megan thought of the many times she had seen Evangeline's fingers creep to touch the locket. She glanced at Greville again. 'I still believe she is in love with Sir Jocelyn now, and if I were of a wagering disposition, I would put my money upon it.'

'A lady's companion with a gambling streak? What is the world coming to?'

Megan laughed. 'Rack and ruin, sir, rack and ruin.'

He became suddenly more serious. 'Those sharp-beaked old broiler hens were wrong to describe you as gauche, for that is one thing you are certainly not, nor is your gown dull or your hair ornament provincial. As to bucolic…! Miss Mortimer-Megan-I have already complimented you upon your appearance tonight, and now I will say it again. You look very well indeed; in fact, you look quite lovely.'

She went a little pink, and hardly noticed the use of her first name. 'Oh, come, Sir Greville, we both know that I cannot hold a candle to the other ladies here tonight.'

'No?'

'No.' She held his gaze. 'Be honest, admit that having me as your partner tonight is beneath you.'