Mistletoe Mischief

shivered slightly as he halted in front of it.

He cleared his throat dramatically, and to her astonishment began to declaim one of Shakespeare's most famous soliloquies as if wishing to be heard out on the Steine. ' 'To be or not to be: that is the question…' '

A ghost who recited Hamlet at the top of his spectral lungs? It was so unexpected that Megan almost curled up with stifled mirth, although she doubted if he intended to be anything other than serious.

He continued his flamboyant oration. ' 'Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Or to take arms against a sea of troubles. And by it… And by the…' ' There was a loud sigh as the next line eluded him. 'Oh, plague take it! When will the words remain in this foolish noddle?' he grumbled in quaint old-fashioned English, then the hem of the curtain was raised briefly by an invisible hand, and the ghostly footsteps retreated to the back of the stage. After that there was the sort of silence that told Megan he had departed for the time being.

Suddenly she felt a great deal better about her new post, for how could one be afraid of-or disconcerted by-a spirit who fancied himself a great actor? No wonder Lady Evangeline put up with him! Still smiling, she turned back to the hall, and was immediately confronted by Edward the footman, who had been watching her.

'What are you doing out here? You were supposed to stay in the drawing room!' he said haughtily, thus making clear his inflated opinion of himself, and low opinion of her.

'I-I'm sorry,' she replied. 'I thought I heard someone making a speech in the theater.'

'No one is allowed in there unless her ladyship is present. That applies to you too.'

'I'll try to remember.'

'Your room's ready. Come on.' He paused. 'And don't think that because you're in the blue chamber, you can lord it over the rest of us.'

'I know my place.' Which is more than you do, she added silently.

He eyed her for a moment as if sensing her unspoken thought, but then he conducted her up to a fine second- floor room on the Great East Street side of the house. 'This is yours,' he announced pushing the door open. 'Just don't forget you're still a servant, and while there are guests, you'll be eating with us in the kitchens, so don't think you can treat us to airs and graces.'

Megan was provoked as she went inside. 'If anyone has airs and graces, it's you,' she replied, and closed the door firmly in his face. She guessed that he would now paint a very black picture of her to the other servants, but she was philosophical about it, for she had endured a similar situation at Lady Jane's, but had managed to rise above it and make some good friends. With luck she would do the same here.

She glanced around the room. It warranted its name, for nearly everything was blue, except for a rose marble fireplace and a white ceiling that was richly picked out with gold. A fire crackled in the hearth, and there were lighted candles on the mantel, on either side of a garniture of fine blue-and-white Chinese porcelain vases. The four-poster bed had sapphire-blue hangings, and she lifted her portmanteau on to it to begin unpacking. Her back was to the door, and her hood fell over her hat again as she bent over it.

Suddenly the door was flung open. 'You impudent light-fingered scoundrel!' someone cried, and before she knew what was happening, an assailant had launched himself at her. She was knocked sprawling facedown on the bed beneath him.

Chapter 7

Megan screamed and fought for all she was worth to escape, but her attacker-Sir Greville Seton, no less-was infinitely stronger and kept her pinned to the bed. After a struggle that lasted only a minute, but seemed a lot longer to Megan, she stopped fighting and lay still.

Greville thought he had apprehended a male intruder, and knelt roughly astride her. 'You damned villain! Let's see your face!' he cried, and snatched back her hood. But he wrenched her hat off as well, and then froze as her long brown hair tumbled down in only too feminine profusion. 'A-a woman?' he gasped, and leapt from the bed as if scalded. Then his glance went belatedly to the luggage, which was clearly not his. 'What's going on? Who are you?' he demanded.

Angry and frightened, Megan scrambled away on the other side of the bed from him. 'How dare you assault me so!' she cried.

'I dare because at the last time of reckoning this happened to be my room, and I caught you apparently rifling my belongings. I see now that I was wrong.'

'You are indeed!' she replied angrily. They gazed warily at each other, their eyes bright with instinctive dislike and mistrust. Neither intended to give an inch, because both felt in the right. Megan spoke again. 'Am I to understand that you are Sir Greville Seton?'

'You have the advantage of me, madam. Am I to have the honor of your name? Or is that to remain one of life's little mysteries?'

'I am Megan Mortimer, Miss Megan Mortimer, and I am Lady Evangeline's companion.'

He stared at her. 'Lady Evangeline's what?'

The sharp altercation brought Evangeline at the double from her apartment directly opposite. 'Miss Mortimer is with me, sirrah, and this is her room!' she declared as she halted in the doorway to survey them both. She had changed into a peach taffeta dinner gown, and Annie had not quite finished her coiffure, so that several long gray ringlets hung down a little untidily. The little Frenchwoman peered over her mistress's shoulder to see what the noise was about.

Greville whirled about in disbelief, for she was supposed to be far away in Bath! Rupert came running as well, and he too stared at his aunt. 'Aunt E? What are you doing here?' he cried.

'I live here, if you recall,' that lady replied waspishly, 'and I was under the erroneous impression that I was going to spend a quiet Christmas alone with my new companion. Instead I find that my home has been rather presumptuously invaded in my absence!'

Rupert colored. 'I, er…' Then he fell silent, for what she said was quite true. Then the import of what she had said about Megan began to sink in, and his glance slid uncomfortably toward Greville, whose opinion of companions was hardly a secret.

Greville was appalled. Not only had he and Rupert walked into the lion's Christmas den after all, but there was a damned companion here as well!

Evangeline's peach taffeta rustled irritably as she came into the room. 'Now, then, sirs, since you are here, allow me to formally present Miss Mortimer, who was Lady Jane Strickland's companion, but is now mine.'

Greville's face became very still, and Rupert recalled what had been said in the garden at Hanover Square. This was the same companion who had so brazenly attempted to seduce Ralph Strickland? She certainly didn't look brazen, he thought, nor would Aunt E have employed her if there was any truth in the story Ralph was putting about.

Evangeline continued. 'I trust you will both make her feel welcome, for she is about to become very much part of my household. She will be taking her meals with us, and is to be treated with respect in every way.'

Megan's lips parted. Take her meals with them? Oh, that was not at all the thing! Her place was in the kitchens with the other servants.

Evangeline observed Greville's stony expression. 'Sir, pray do not forget my wishes in this, for your private attitudes are not to be aired while beneath my roof. It is hardly Miss Mortimer's fault that your fool of a father ran off with your mother's companion when you were only six.'

He was nettled that she should express such a derogatory opinion in front of Megan. 'Aunt E, I hardly think Miss Mortimer is interested in my childhood,' he replied in a tone as blunt as hers.

Evangeline already regretted her sharp tongue. 'I shouldn't have said that. Please forgive me. It's just that it grieves me to see you still so bitter about something that happened such a long time ago. On top of which, I hardly think it is fair of you to direct your antagonism toward Miss Mortimer without her knowing why you feel as you do.'

Greville didn't reply, and his silence conveyed that he didn't consider it to be any of Miss Mortimer's business.