Mistletoe Mischief

He shuddered, and imagined being awakened by her of a morning. No doubt she would put her lips to his slumbering ear in the marriage bed, and send him into a state of witless shock with just such a shrill squeal. A nerve flickered at his temple. He had to have someone to blame, and one person sprang instantly to mind. His eyes swung toward Megan as she stood with Greville, Evangeline, and Sir Jocelyn. It was her fault, he thought with savage illogicality, and he would see that she reaped the consequences! Then he flung the curricle forward around the chariot, and away down the Steine toward the seafront.

Evangeline observed his departure, and tilted her head close to Sir Jocelyn. 'Behold, one very sulky bear,' she murmured.

'One very sulky, very self-pitying bear,' Sir Jocelyn replied shrewdly.

The sleigh was returning, and as Megan hurried to speak to Chloe, Evangeline turned quickly to Greville. 'Now you must take Miss Mortimer out, sir,' she said with a smile. 'I am sure you would like to do that, would you not?'

He met her eyes. 'You know so, Aunt E.'

She nodded. 'Well, after that, er, kiss beneath the mistletoe last night, I would be very surprised if you did not.'

'I trust you mean to soon allow us all into your secret?'

'Secret?' She played the innocent.

'You know exactly what I mean, Aunt E,' he chided. 'There is something going on that concerns Megan, and since I have very obligingly done as you hoped by forming an attachment for her, I think the very least you can do is explain yourself.'

Evangeline looked at him for a long moment. 'You have seen through me, I fancy.'

'I think so.'

She nodded. 'Very well, I think you are right to expect an explanation. I promise I will tell you everything when we are back at the house, but for the time being I mean to enjoy the social glory of the sleigh. It is not every day that one can be assured of being the undisputed queen of Brighton. But first I wish you and Miss Mortimer to enjoy it.'

There were murmurs as Greville handed Megan into the sleigh, for Oliver's contretemps with the Garsingtons had not entirely banished Lady Evangeline Radcliffe's impudent companion from the beau monde's mind. Megan was hardly aware of anything, she was too speechless with delight to be seated in the Prince of Wales's sleigh. Just over a week ago she had been Lady Jane Strickland's nobody of a companion, now she was about to be driven around the Steine like royalty. She turned to smile up at Greville as he stepped up behind her and took the reins. The black Arabs sprang forward, their plumes dancing, and the sleigh sped away over the snow as if upon air. The runners sang, the bells jingled, and it seemed that the horses trotted in time to the Marine Pavilion band, which was now playing 'God rest you merry, gentlemen!'

Megan expected to simply navigate the Steine, but suddenly Greville turned the team toward the Castle Inn, then down Ship Street, where everyone turned to gaze open-mouthed as it passed. On reaching the foot of the street, Greville turned west to drive along the undulating cliff top, where very few people were to be found on a Sunday. The sea was blue to match the sky, and the horses' breath stood out in clouds as Greville brought them up to a canter. At the western edge of the town, he turned the vehicle, and then drove back again at the same brisk speed, but instead of driving up Ship Street again, he followed the track on toward the Star and Garter and Mahomed's Baths, where it swung inland again toward the Steine.

A stagecoach was just leaving the inn, and as Greville reined in to allow it to pass, a woman called to him from the roadside in a broad Sussex accent. 'Some mistletoe for your lady, sir?' It was a red-cloaked countrywoman with an enormous basket of carefully tied mistletoe posies, one of which she held out hopefully to Greville.

He laughed and tossed her a coin, which she caught deftly and tested with her teeth before stepping from the curb to give him the posy. 'Give the lady a kiss for Christmas, sir, for 'tis not only lucky, 'tis expected!'

'Expected, eh? Well, I must not disappoint,' he replied, and to the delight of onlookers he held the mistletoe above Megan's head. 'Madam, your lips are needed,' he said softly.

She blushed as she turned and tilted her face to meet him. Their lips joined in a warm kiss that drew a rousing cheer from some men who had just emerged from the Star and Garter. The countrywoman gave a satisfied cackle of laughter. 'May you both have the finest Christmas ever!' she cried as Greville pressed the mistletoe into Megan's hands, then urged the team on again.

Chapter 30

As Megan and Greville glided along the low cliff top in the sleigh, Ralph Strickland's travel-stained carriage was descending wearily from the Downs toward Brighton. He had left London at noon the previous day, but had been benighted by the weather at the village of Clayton. After setting out once more at daybreak, the carriage had taken until now to labor the final few miles through the snow, and as the first houses of the town appeared by the roadside, Ralph lowered the blinds in order not to be seen, for he sported a black eye that might have been dealt by Tom Belcher himself. The eye wasn't the work of a professional pugilist, however, but of Ralph's wife Sophia, whose build and right hook were every bit as fearsome as her sister Sybil's.

Ralph might have succeeded initially in convincing his better half that he'd been trying to fend off Megan's unwelcome advances when apparently caught in the act in Bath, but doubts had soon begun to trouble Sophia, who knew him rather too well. There had been arguments, some of them very fiery indeed, and she had finally resorted to fisticuffs. Humiliated at being so visibly damaged at a woman's hands, and annoyed at having ultimately failed to pull the wool over that same woman's eyes, Ralph was teaching Sophia a lesson by disappearing for Christmas. Brighton might have seemed a strange choice of hiding place, given that it was a stronghold of Garsingtons and was where he and Sophia were to spend the holiday anyway, but Ralph's plan was to impose himself upon his good friend Oliver. Sophia could go to Hades; he was going to enjoy himself! He imagined an excellent Yuletide, with just the two of them skulking secretly in Oliver's lodgings, imbibing to their hearts' content, and no irritating females to spoil their fun. With luck, there would be a few furtive visits to a certain house of ill repute in Lewes, where the wenches, oh, the wenches… He sighed with anticipation.

Lady Jane Strickland's only son and heir was a slightly built man whose elegant good looks would have been spoiled by his tiny button of a nose even without his spouse's handiwork. His dark hair was very curly and short, he possessed sensuously full lips, and his green eyes were fringed by long, almost girlish lashes. Dandified clothing was very much to his taste, as witness the blue-and-cream-striped coat he wore beneath his sweeping navy blue cloak, and there was a bright silver buckle on the wide blue band of his tapered top hat. He considered himself a very stylish fellow, and believed that Sophia should be eternally grateful to have such a paragon for a husband. The fact that she was not had always rankled with him, and he chose to use her lack of appreciation as an excuse to philander. Sophia deserved his unfaithfulness!

However, there was very little of the swaggering peacock about him now. He skulked behind the carriage blinds, and kept his head well down as the vehicle drove around the crowded Steine past Garsington House, for it would not have surprised him if-like Sophia-the rest of the family could see through everything as well! At last the coachman reined in at Duchess Place, and Ralph peered cautiously out before alighting. No one he knew was around, so he flung his voluminous cloak around himself and stepped stealthily down. A moment later he had been admitted by Oliver's man, although Oliver himself was not at home.

Hardly had Ralph gone safely inside than there was a cheer from the Steine as Greville drove the sleigh back. Evangeline was now impatient to enjoy it for herself again, but just as she took Megan's place, and Greville was handing the reins to Sir Jocelyn, Evangeline realized her locket was missing. She had reached up to finger it in her usual absentminded way, only to find nothing there. 'My locket has gone! Oh, it must have fallen somewhere in the snow!'

Megan put a quick hand upon the other woman's arm. 'Lady Evangeline, did you put it on after breakfast?'

'I never take it off.'

'But you did this morning, when you went to the summerhouse. I noticed when I glanced out of my window.' Evangeline's eyes cleared. 'Of course! I must have left it there!'