A Country Christmas (Timeless Regency Collection Book 5) Page 2

  Chapter Three

  Neville finished his third attempt at a decent knot in his cravat and eyed it critically before untying it, unwrapping it from around his neck, and throwing the rumpled fabric on the bed. He stalked toward his wardrobe for another starched article. He did not give into blue devil moods easily, but this disposition was growing darker by the minute as the Websters’ Christmas ball loomed closer. His valet’s mother had fallen ill last week, and he had taken the rest of the month to spend time with her in the next county over. Until now, Neville had not missed him too much, as he had become used to dressing himself during his American tour. He didn’t think he’d need assistance tonight and therefore hadn’t asked his father’s valet or one of the footmen to help, but apparently he should have.

  The door to Neville’s bedchamber opened, and Burke came in, reminding Neville of why he was in such a black mood. Burke quickly ascertained Neville’s difficulty with the tie and crossed the room in a few long strides. “Let me be ’ere ta ’elp ya wit dat cloth, gov’ner. Bit sticky fer ya?”

  Normally Neville would find Burke adopting the cockney accent hilarious, but tonight it was yet one more thing to annoy him. He lifted his chin obediently and let Burke fix the cravat while attempting to calm his riled emotions. A minute later, Burke stepped back and put his fist beneath his chin, assessing his handiwork.

  “That is as near perfect as any necktie I have ever seen.” Burke beamed with pride, and despite Neville’s sour mood, he had to agree. He looked in the glass and could find no argument with Burke’s work.

  “Thank you, Burke. I seem to be all thumbs tonight.”

  “Well, it is certainly due to the excitement of tonight’s entertainment,” Burke said sarcastically, then rolled his eyes. “I am certainly tickled to have the opportunity to attend the annual Websters’ Christmas ball. I hope there is punch.”

  “The ball is a village tradition, and I have missed it the last four years for one reason or another.” He paused and took a breath, knowing he was about out of time to speak his mind. “And I will remind you of the company I keep here and the reputation I uphold. We are to be on our best behavior.” He said “we,” but he meant Burke, and they both knew it.

  Burke gave an exaggerated yawn, then sighed deeply. “So you have told me,” he said with boredom. “But perhaps you should give such advice to your dear Eloise, not I.”

  He didn’t stay to hear Neville’s reply and instead stalked out of the room, saying he would wait for Neville in the foyer. Neville looked from the man’s retreating form to the looking glass and quickly undid the knot, which was suddenly inferior.

  Was Eloise interested in Burke? Neville began the twisting and tying all over again. Eloise was as much a fixture of Neville’s hometown as his father’s house or the village church. She had always been there, always drawn a smile, and he rarely thought about her when he was gone. He would be more settled here in Hemberg, now that his schooling and travel were finished, and he’d been glad at the assurance that the easy camaraderie he had always felt with Eloise continued. Eloise was always nice to look at, but with her round face and large blue eyes, she still looked very much like the girl he’d always known. Neville had never seen her as a young woman. Just Eloise.

  Neville may have only just realized that she was a grown woman destined to make a match, but he had no qualms about saying she deserved a better man than Burke. Being raised in the country would give her no understanding of a man like him. He could flatter her into a kiss entirely too easily, but her heart would be broken when she realized it was all a game. The thought made Neville’s chest burn as it had in the pub that morning. He hurried to finish the knot—not nearly as well done as Burke’s had been—and then went to the foyer with his mind made up. He would keep an eye on Burke, but he would also be attentive to Eloise to see if, in fact, she had developed a tendre for Burke. If she had, he would do whatever it took to talk her out of it. A lifetime of friendship had earned her his protection in this, and he would not fail her.

  Chapter Four

  The Websters’ ballroom had been transformed for the holiday. Small pine trees were placed throughout the room, swags of garland draped from one corner to the next, and all of the greenery was festooned with red and gold ribbons befitting the season. Hundreds of candles lit the room, and the air smelled of cinnamon. The Websters never failed expectations, and Eloise basked in the glorious ambiance.

  “You look lovely,” Mama said, putting a hand on Eloise’s arm as she passed. “I am off to visit with Mrs. Partridge. Join us should you need me.”

  “Thank you, Mama.”

  Mama gave her a quick smile and then turned toward the larger portion of the crowd, already surrounding the refreshment table, which was filled with Christmas treats: mincemeat pies, plum tarts, ginger cookies, and shortbreads. Eloise was glad Mama would not be hovering around for confirmation of her suspicions of what man Eloise wanted to draw out, but there was little doubt she would be watching her daughter closely from any corner of the room. Eloise scanned the crowd once more; he wasn’t here yet, it seemed.

  “Eloise?”

  Catherine Moore, Eloise’s closest friend now that Lila was gone for India, stood a few feet away, looking Eloise up and down with wide eyes.

  “What do you think?” Eloise asked, lifting the sides of the skirt and swishing them to and fro. They rustled like wind through tree branches.

  “I think you are the belle of the ball, and every girl here will hate you for it.”

  Eloise dropped her hands to her sides. She hadn’t meant to inspire envy. This wasn’t a Season event, after all, and the debutants were not vying for gentlemen’s attention like they would should they end up in London together—something Eloise hoped to avoid.

  “You look breathtaking,” Catherine said with a smile, reading Eloise’s expression. Catherine quickly took Eloise’s arm and began walking her toward a group of young women, some whom Eloise didn’t know very well but always came to the Websters’ annual Christmas ball, held two weeks before the holiday.

  Eloise had come to this event all of her life—for years watching her older siblings dance and wishing she were one of them. The last few years she had danced as well—blushing, awkward affairs with boys as anxious as she was. Those nights had been great fun, despite no serious attraction between her and any of her partners, but tonight was different. Tonight, after years of school and world travel preventing his attendance, Neville would be here.

  They reached the other girls and exchanged greetings all around. Janet Bothmeyer had an emerald green dress—with an uncomfortably low neckline—and Rachel Hoyt had a red and gold gown that flounced and flourished in every way imaginable. Eloise brushed a hand down the shiny skirt of her new dress with increased confidence that she was not the only one to make a bold presentation.

  “Have you heard from Lila?” Rachel asked, drawing Eloise from her thoughts and into the conversation.

  “Yes, just last week. She wrote before they left London.”

  “And is she enjoying her role as Mrs. Lutherford?” Catherine asked. The girls shared a common look of eager curiosity between them. They were all anticipating the upcoming Season—even those who would not go to London—and were rather preoccupied with the things that took place after the weddings that each of them saw as a matter of course come summer and fall. Eloise’s blush betrayed how many details Lila had included in her letters these last weeks as she’d traveled rather leisurely through the countryside with her new husband. The girls read the expression on Eloise’s face and quickly stepped forward, forming a closed circle.

  “What did she say?”

  “What did she tell you?”

  “Can I read Lila’s letters?”

  Eloise shook her head. “The details are not fitting for discussion here, certainly.” Eloise lifted one slim shoulder and gave a coy glance around the circle. “But should any of you want to come to tea, say, Tuesday next at three o’clock, I could likely sh
are a detail or two. Mama will be visiting my aunt that day, and Lila specifically said there are things she wished she’d known.”

  The girls erupted into giggles that betrayed their youth, then stepped apart again when the heads of other guests turned toward them. The girls tried to hide their smiles between sips of punch. Eloise was not used to holding a powerful position among her peers—she’d always been rather shy—but Lila’s marriage had emboldened her somehow. In a matter of weeks, Lila had gone from young woman to wife. She held Mr. Lutherford’s heart in her hand and had gladly given over her own. She was part of a whole now and would be forever connected to Mr. Lutherford and the children they would have. Judging from the content of her letters, the role of motherhood would not be far away.

  Lila had found her destiny, and now it was time for Eloise to do the same—preferably without having to go to London. Would it not be perfect to find her destiny in the place she loved best? A mere ten-minute walk from the home she’d been raised in?

  Neville could give her all of that, and himself besides. He’d always asked her to dance when attending such events in the village, but tonight could change everything if he looked at her the way she hoped he would. Anticipation hummed in her belly, and she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself.

  As more guests arrived, and more young women joined their group, it broke into several smaller conversations, which left Catherine and Eloise standing beside one another as they surveyed the room that was filling bit by bit.

  “Do you think Mr. Burke will be joining Mr. Franklin tonight?” Catherine asked. For a moment the question confused Eloise—why would Neville’s friend come to the ball with Neville’s father?—but then she remembered that Neville was Mr. Franklin to everyone else. Only she called him Neville, as she had since they were childhood playmates. The privilege set her apart from any other girl who might have her eye on him.

  “I would be very surprised if Mr. Burke didn’t attend. Neither man seems to go anywhere without the other.” She hoped there was no bitterness in her tone. Mr. Burke was personable enough, but his continual presence these last weeks was Eloise’s only complaint with Neville’s return. She’d had to show as much interest in his stories as she did in Neville’s so as not to seem rude. Not once in all these weeks had she had Neville’s attention all to herself, and finally she’d had to accept that she likely never would as long as Mr. Burke stayed in Shropshire. She had made the best of it, then, and hoped that making a good impression on Mr. Burke would only help the good impression she made on Neville. She looked forward to time alone with Neville tonight. She could not dance with two men at once, after all.

  “Mr. Burke is very handsome,” Catherine said rather absently.

  Is he? Eloise hadn’t noticed.

  Catherine continued, “More handsome than even Mr. Franklin, I’d wager.”

  “Certainly not,” Eloise said with a huff of laughter. What a ridiculous thought. Anyone with two eyes and half a brain could see that Neville was the handsomest man in Shropshire. With his dark, thick hair and light blue eyes . . .

  Catherine took hold of Eloise’s arm. “I knew it! You’re sweet on Mr. Franklin, aren’t you?”

  Eloise felt herself blush to the roots of her hair, realizing the trap Catherine had set for her. She turned toward her friend. “Please do not tell anyone.”

  “Of course not!” Catherine said, giving Eloise’s arm a squeeze before she dropped her grip. “Only, I am so glad to know it. You are perfect for him.”

  The words washed over Eloise like warm rain. “Do you think so?”

  “Absolutely,” Catherine said with a confirming nod. “You love Shropshire, unlike the rest of us, who cannot wait to see somewhere new, and are the perfect complement to his wild ways.”

  Eloise didn’t like the sound of that. “Wild ways?”

  Catherine gave her a surprised look. “Surely you have heard the rumors.”

  Everything Eloise knew of Neville had come through Lila, and as Neville’s cousin, Lila would not be the recipient of much gossip.

  “I hear he was quite a man about town when he was in London,” Catherine was not as hesitant to share this as Eloise would have liked her to be. “That’s why his father sent him to America, hoping the travel would help him better find his place in the world and keep him from becoming an all-out rake.” She looked at Eloise a bit closer. “Surely that does not upset you. Every girl dreams of a dashing hero capable of sweeping her off her feet. He certainly could not do so without a bit of practice.” She bumped Eloise with her shoulder. “I would think Lila would have said as much in her letters. Surely her Mr. Lutherford had some experience that worked in her favor.”

  “Lila did not speak of that.” Which was surprising, really, since Lila had spoken of so many other things. Catherine’s words were troubling, and yet Eloise felt foolish to feel that way. Neville was twenty-four years old and had traveled the world. Of course he had met women, and every young man who spent time in London got in some trouble now and then.

  “There they are.”

  Eloise looked up from the spot on the floor that had stolen her attention and felt excitement and trepidation and anxiety and bliss rush through her at the sight of Neville in formal dress. The blue superfine coat fit him perfectly, with tails that reached the tops of his polished boots, complete with silver buckles. His hair was combed forward in a Brutus, and the silver of his waistcoat complemented the darker gray of his breeches. She watched him scan the crowd, and time froze the moment he saw her. His eyes locked with hers and then traveled quickly down and back up, as though to confirm it was truly her. Her heart rate increased as his lips parted slightly in surprise and his eyebrows went up. When he met her eyes again, he quickly repaired his expression and smiled rather politely. He leaned in and said something to Mr. Burke, who was taking a much slower inspection that made Eloise’s cheeks heat up. Why had she not considered anyone else’s reaction to her presentation tonight? She had thought only of Neville, and yet something in his reaction seemed unexpectedly closed.

  In tandem, the men began moving toward Eloise and Catherine. Catherine gasped and stood straighter.

  The men came to stop in front of the two young women, and Eloise commanded herself to relax. It is not a sin to be beautiful.

  “My, but don’t the two of you look good enough to eat,” Mr. Burke said, looking between them but lingering on Eloise. Eloise blushed again. A pox on her betraying cheeks!

  Neville cleared his throat rather pointedly and narrowed his eyes at his friend. Mr. Burke ignored the look and turned his attention to Catherine. “Miss Moore, might I have the pleasure of the first dance tonight?”

  “Oh, most certainly, Mr. Burke,” Catherine said with a slight curtsey. “I would be honored.”

  Neville caught Eloise’s eye and smiled. “Might I ask the same from you, Miss Hallstrom?”

  It was always surprising to hear him address her formally when an event dictated such manners. Even still, there was something stiff in his expression—something keeping her out that made her anxious. He always seemed glad to see her; why not tonight? She felt her confidence tremble as though she’d stepped out of a cold bath on a winter day.

  She inclined her head. “Certainly, Mr. Franklin.”

  Mr. Burke turned to her. “May I have the next, Miss Hallstrom?”

  She swore she heard Neville’s jaw clench, but when she glanced at him, he looked away. “Of course,” Eloise said.

  “We shall return in time to collect our partners for the first set,” Neville said, bowing rather stiffly to them both and then leading Mr. Burke away.

  “Gracious stars,” Catherine said once the men were out of range. “I do so hope Mr. Burke is as experienced as Mr. Franklin. Might I please be so fortunate?”

  Chapter Five

  Neville stalked to the refreshment table and picked up a glass of punch before turning—almost against his will—to look at Eloise again. There was a reason debutantes were no
t supposed to wear such bold colors. Gracious.

  The red set off her golden hair and drew the eye to the way the fabric fit her curves; since when was Eloise so . . . shapely? He was half tempted to tuck his handkerchief over her exposed bosom in order to hide the expanse of creamy skin from Burke’s leering eyes. When had little Eloise, with whom he’d played tag and made mud pies, become such a woman? And where was her mother? Weren’t mothers supposed to prevent their daughters from being so engaging?

  “What did I tell you?” Burke said triumphantly as he stepped beside Neville, his own glass of Christmas punch in hand. “In a dress like that, she’s fairly begging for a kiss.”

  “She is not,” Neville said curtly. “And she does not understand the effect a dress like that can have on a man. She hasn’t even had a Season. She’s young and naïve and—”

  “Stunning,” Burke finished for him. He faced Neville. “You can’t tell me that you aren’t as affected as I am and wouldn’t like a better view.”

  “There is view enough from here.” And indeed there was. Neville’s jaw was clenched so tightly he could feel the ache all the way to his shoulders.

  Burke nodded to Horace Blaylock, with whom they had gone hunting last week, and made his way toward the other man, likely because Neville was turning out to be such stodgy company tonight. Imagining Eloise at the mercy of Burke’s attention, however, was beyond what Neville could tolerate. Another acquaintance stepped forward, blessedly blocking Neville’s view of Eloise on the other side of the room. Not that the distraction made him any less aware of her, but at least there was some kind of barrier.

  After several minutes of small talk, Neville heard the orchestra warming up for the first set, which he would dance with Eloise. He swallowed nervously, not sure he was comfortable dancing with her when he still hadn’t become accustomed to her presentation tonight, but at least Burke wouldn’t be the first to lead her to the floor.