that things do not always have to be the same.’ She held out a hand. ‘While the book is closing on 1813, there is no telling what 1814 will bring us. You might be a better man.’
Nick stood too close to her, and was satisfied to see the flash in her eyes that proved she was not so immune to his charms as she pretended. ‘Are you still convinced there is something wrong with me as I am now?’
Instead of responding playfully to his comment, she looked at him in all seriousness and said, ‘Yes, there is. You wonder how it is that you manage to be in such trouble with Harry, and why your life does not change from year to year. But you have only your own behaviour to blame for it.’ She glanced towards the hall, in the direction of the absent Elise. ‘I saw the two of you together when I brought Harry into the room. And I saw the look you gave her as she left. Do not tell me that you were not about to follow her. It is more than difficult, trying to get the two of them to co-operate and reconcile. If you can muster enough sense to set her free, then it will be much easier for all of us.’
Chapter Eleven
The next day, Nick was lying on his back on the library sofa, struggling to enjoy the peace and quiet of Christmas afternoon. The roads to the village were better, but still suspect. So the party had forgone church and let Harry lead them in morning prayer in the dining room. After luncheon, the servants had hitched up sleighs, and Harry had taken the majority of his guests to go ice skating on a nearby stream. Others had retired to their rooms. There had been no sign at all of Elise since she had taken to her room the previous evening.
He felt a touch of guilt over that point. But jollying her back into good spirits would mean he must forfeit the afternoon, which was going just as he preferred it: dozing with a full stomach, in air scented faintly with pine and punch, and none of the frenetic eagerness to make fun where none was needed. Nor did he wish to give Rosalind Morley fuel for her spurious argument that he did not know how to let well enough alone when it came to his ex- intended. If Elise needed cheering, then perhaps it was time for her husband to do the job.
It had occurred to him that if he wished any real peace, it would be a far better idea to stay in his own bedroom than to stretch out in a common area, where he was likely to be interrupted at any moment. But he had rejected the idea for the illogical reason that it would give him too
His mind ran over and over their conversation of the previous evening. She seemed to think that he was still to blame for the troubles between Harry and Elise, even though he was doing everything in his power to rejoin them. Had he not brought her home? Was he not doing his best to stay clear of them while they sorted out their difficulties?
And had he not immediately fallen back into his role of devoted admirer the minute he’d seen Elise’s unhappiness? Damn it all, he did not want to lie with her any more than she wanted his attentions. But the suggestion of it had been enough of a distraction to coax her back to the punch bowl.
Now, despite nagging doubts about the wisdom of it, he would leave Elise to have her sulk. He would be sure to point the fact out when Miss Morley put in an appearance with whatever scheme she was currently hatching. There was no telling what chaos she was likely to bring with her when she came today. He smiled. Although she was a most annoying young lady, at least she did not bore him.
Nick glanced at his watch, and was surprised to see it was almost three. Several hours had passed in relative silence, and he should have been able to settle his mind and get the sleep he’d been craving. Although the library sofa was much more comfortable than the miserable mattress his host had allotted him, he could not seem to find peace.
He looked over the back of the couch at the mistletoe, still hanging in its proper place above the door. On impulse he rose and removed it from the hook, dropping it on the floor under a table. Then he went back to his place by the fire and pretended to sleep.
Rosalind came into the room a short time later, but took no notice of the missing decoration. Instead, she strode directly to his hiding place, coming round to the front of the couch to slap at the sole of his boot. ‘Wake up, Tremaine. I have plans for you.’
He pretended to splutter to consciousness, looked up at her, and hurriedly closed his eyes again. ‘Then I am most assuredly still asleep. Please leave me in peace.’
‘There is much work to be done if you wish to go home alone.’
‘Far more than that, I wish to go home alive. And the best way to assure my safety is to stay right here, far away from Harry. The man laid hands on me yesterday. He cannot be trusted.’
‘You are being silly again. It was an innocent game.’
When she scolded him, her curls bounced in a most amusing fashion, and he had to force himself not to smile at her. ‘The game was innocent enough. But I do not trust some of the players any further than I can throw them.’ No more than he trusted Rosalind. He suspected that she had other reasons for wishing him to play.
‘You have nothing to fear from Harry. I have known the man almost a quarter of a century. Although he might threaten, he would never do you bodily harm.’
He laughed. ‘When you reach that advanced age, little one, and make such claims, then I shall take your word.’
She glared down at him. ‘Twenty-five is not an advanced age, and it is most unflattering of you to call it so. The fact that I am near to it does not put me so far beyond the pale.’
Four-and-twenty? But she could barely be eighteen now. He was convinced of it. He looked at her more closely. But hadn’t he thought the same thing when he had met her the first time? And that had been years ago. If she was twenty-four, then…He counted upon his fingers.
His silence must have unnerved her, for she said, ‘Do not fall asleep again, Tremaine. The festivities have not been so strenuous as to require rest in midday. And if you mean to imply that my conversation bores you to unconsciousness, I swear I shall box your ears.’
He gave a little cough. ‘Twenty-four?’
‘Twenty-five next month.’
‘But you are…’
She gritted her teeth. ‘Older than Elise. Just barely. And still single. But I look much younger and always have. Or were you about to say
For a moment, he could swear that he was looking at the same gamine he had found in the hallway at the Grenvilles’ ball, five Christmases ago. The only change in her was the cynical glint in her eyes and the determined set to her mouth. ‘You look no different than you did when I first met you.’
She put her hands on her hips. ‘Considering how well our first meeting went, I hardly know what you mean by that. But I shall assume you mean to compliment me. I hope you are not so cruel as to torment me with my appearance? There is little I can do to change it.’
‘I thought you much younger when we first met. You were standing in the doorway of the ballroom, behind a potted palm, watching everyone else dance.’
She smirked. ‘You remember that now, do you?’
‘I never forgot it.’
‘But when my father caught us kissing you announced, “I have never seen this girl before in my life.” I assumed that we were keeping to the established lie and pretending that our dance had never occurred.’
‘It was only an hour before we kissed. So technically I had not met you before. Not before that night, at any rate.’
‘Technically?’ She nodded sceptically. ‘My father assumed that I had kissed a man without even taking the time to learn his name. It was very awkward for me.’
‘But when we danced,’ he said haltingly, ‘you told me that you were not yet out.’
‘I’d have made my come-out in spring, if Father had allowed me to remain in London. Twenty would have been
