An Icy Christmas Engagement (Christmas Matches of Worth #1)

Chapter Nine

“I am beginning to think that Lord Colenhurst is not listening to us.”

Cedric struggled to keep from simply walking away at that comment. He stayed where he was, hands in his pockets, his eyes trained dead ahead.

Harrison’s laughter grated his nerves. “He most certainly is, gentlemen. He’s just ignoring us.”

Clearly the other men did not find that as amusing, judging from the disgruntled murmurs that sounded afterwards. Cedric still didn’t pay them any mind. After all, they were the ones who approached him and began talking about the races and who would win at cards at White’s after the ball. Useless chatter that Cedric saw no reason to take part in, especially when he had more pressing things on his mind.

He said nothing as he watched the gentlemen—a wealthy earl and viscount—meander off when they realized that their presence was not welcomed. Harrison, of course, stayed behind.

He heaved a great sigh. “This is not what we agreed on, Cedric,” he said.

“I do not recall agreeing to anything save for attending this infernal ball,” Cedric responded simply.

“There is no reason to attend if you will not mingle and converse with others. Do you want to be labeled an outcast?” Before Cedric could respond, Harrison sighed and shook his head. “Don’t answer that. I should have known better than to ask you that question.”

“I did not tell them to go bother someone else. Is that not enough?”

“You know that it is not,” Harrison sighed. “I would berate you a while longer if I didn’t find the entire ordeal quite funny.”

“There is not a situation on earth you would not find humour in,” Cedric drawled.

“I beg to differ. After all, there is nothing humorous about how Lady Hutton looks this evening. ”

Cedric turned his head to see Grace, Lily, and Jacob approaching. Grace smiled a little, reaching out to embrace Harrison.

“It is always a pleasure seeing you, Harrison,” she said warmly. “You always know the right thing to say to a lady. Cedric could learn a thing or two from you.”

“Do not be fooled, Mother,” Lily spoke up, one hand resting on her stomach while the other was resting on her husband’s forearm. “That is only because Harrison is a dreadful rake who will grasp at any opportunity to flirt with the opposite sex.”

“Are you saying I should not flirt with Lady Hutton?” Harrison asked.

Jacob looked rather appalled by the question. “She is twice your age!”

“And yet she looks as beautiful as the day she debuted,” Harrison purred.

Grace shook her head, lips quirked with mirth. “You would not be aware of that, as you were still rather fresh and inexperienced when I made my debut.”

“Your beauty stands the test of time, my lady,” Harrison answered smoothly, earning him a rare chuckle from Grace.

Cedric knew it was only a matter of time before his aunt’s attention turned to him. It happened far sooner than he’d expected however.

“Must I beg for you to greet me?” Grace asked, her tone far sharper than when she spoke to Harrison.

“Good evening, Aunt,” Cedric greeted, then looked at his cousin and her husband. “Lily. Jacob.”

“You look rather uncomfortable, Cedric,” Lily pointed out, adopting that playful look in her eyes. “If you wish, Jacob could fetch you a glass of wine.”

“I have no need for wine,” Cedric mumbled.

Harrison gasped. “Shocking!”

The others laughed. Cedric might have too if he hadn’t caught sight of her again.

She was once again being led onto the dance floor. The night was well underway and he’d watched as she danced nearly every set since the dancing began. And yet each time she was led to the center of the ballroom, she looked disappointed, as if she wished she could be anywhere else.

Cedric willed her to look at him. Their eyes had met five times—he’d kept count—since the night began, mostly because he had been following her around the room. It was the only thing that kept him entertained. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her as she danced with Lord Sotheby, not missing the way the gentleman had stared after her the moment their set ended. Again and again, she appeared in his line of sight on the arm of a different man, looking more and more disenchanted with each one.

He supposed he had begun to look out for her somewhere along the line. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t bother to question himself either.

“What are you looking at?”

Grace’s question threw him. He straightened suddenly, feeling as if he’d just been caught doing something wrong. Grace raised a single brow at him.

“Nothing,” he pushed out, avoiding her critical eyes. “I simply want to be done with this evening.”

“You may leave then, if it bothers you so much to be here.”

“Mother, you can’t suggest that he should leave,” Lily gasped. “Especially since the final waltz hasn’t begun yet.”

“I do not think Cedric has any intention of dancing with someone,” Jacob pointed out.

“Of course he does,” Lily objected. “It would make no sense to attend a ball without dancing at least one set. I have already done dozens and I am bursting at the seams!”

Jacob chuckled at his wife’s exaggeration. “That is because you love to dance and Cedric…well…”

“One would think he has two left feet,” Harrison jumped in.

Cedric sighed. “Why must I always end up the topic of discussion?”

“That is because there is always something interesting to say about you,” Harrison explained with a shrug. He drained his glass. “Pardon me. I have run dry.”

They watched him walk away before Lily spoke again. “All this talk about dancing is getting me energized again. Jacob, let’s join this set. ”

“Goodness, my dear, have you no need for rest?”

“I have energy for two, remember?” She laughed as she dragged him towards the other dancing couples.

Cedric’s eyes drifted once again to the mysterious lady. He hadn’t gotten her name that day. The thought occurred to him only after they’d parted ways and had been haunting him ever since.

“Lily is right, you know.”

He tore his eyes away from her to look down at his aunt. “Right about what?”

“You should at least dance once before the night is over. I believe the final waltz will be playing soon. You should ask someone.”

“I do not need to do anything,” Cedric protested. “If I do, ladies and their ambitious mothers will only swarm me thinking that I have announced my intentions to marry.”

“Is that so bad?” Grace caught the look he gave her and added, “I highly doubt a single dance will be enough to say that you are looking for a wife.”

“Why do you want me to dance so much?”

“I wish for you to cease conducting yourself as though you are destined to solitude for all eternity,” she remarked to him. “Mayhap a dance shall serve as the initial step towards your reawakening to the joys of companionship.”

“There is no need for me to open up.”

“You say that now. Let me know if your opinion changes after you’ve danced the waltz.”

She didn’t give him the chance to answer. Which was a good thing because he couldn’t think of a response to that anyway. She simply walked off and Cedric was once again left alone to his thoughts.

Which meant his eyes eventually drifted back to her.

She must hate dancing. She did it perfectly, however, moving with swan-like grace. Her beauty stood like a beacon in the midst of everyone else, so much so that it was a wonder no one else was staring at her like he was.

Would she hate dancing with him as well? Suddenly, he was eager to know the answer .

He bided his time, waiting for the inevitable routine. The dance came to an end, she took a step back, curtsied to her dance partner as her lips moved—likely to thank him for the dance—before she turned and swiftly left the scene, not giving the man a chance to say or do anything.

Cedric headed in the same direction. She was going back to her friend—as she’d done the last five dances—who stood on the outskirts of the ballroom watching everything with a mild disinterest. Cedric headed towards her, guests parting around him. He wanted to make it to her before she reached her friend’s side.

He slid into her path and watched with satisfaction as she came to a halt to stare up at him, recognition in her hazel eyes.

“We meet again.”

She blinked. And stared. For a long moment, Cedric wondered if she’d lost her ability to speak.

Then she blinked again, as if coming back to herself before saying, “It is nice to see you again, Lord Colenhurst.”

Cedric tilted his head to the side. It took every ounce of his strength to keep from doing the ungentlemanly thing and run his gaze down the length of her. But being this close, it was tempting. He wanted to drink in every inch of her slim frame, robed in a lovely gown. But staring into her captivating eyes was an easy consolation prize.

“That isn’t very fair, you know,” he said. “After our interesting encounter, you did not think it important to give me your name.”

“You did not think it important to ask me for it,” she pointed out with ease.

“Very well, we may make our proper introductions during the last dance.”

Her brows raised. “I do not recall accepting an invitation to dance, my lord. Nor have I received one, for that matter.”

“That is my invitation.” He held out his hand, smirking slightly. “Would you do me the honours?”

She looked down at his hand. Cedric wondered if he had severely miscalculated their mutual interest in each other, and that she might turn him down .

But then she slid her hand into his, the light touch sending a thrill up his arm. He schooled his expression as best as he could, grasping her hand lightly and leading her out to dance.

The other couples had gathered, gentlemen already pulling their partners close. Cedric caught a whiff of vanilla when he pulled her to his chest and left the barest amount of space between them. Just enough to save them from scandal. She glanced down at his chest then back up at him, clearly noticing it as well.

“You are obviously not used to hearing the word no, my lord,” she said as they began swaying from side to side. “I could tell that you expected me to accept your invitation, without a single consideration to the chance that I may turn you away.”

“Then why did you, if you thought me to be so arrogant?”

“Curiosity,” she murmured. “I wonder about the Earl of Colenhurst as much as any other lady does.”

“I am hesitant to ask,” he admitted and he caught the end of her smile.

“Why? Is your reputation so terrible that you assume the things I wonder cannot be anything good?”

“In part. You also strike me as the type of lady who sees more than she should, though such eyesight fails miserably when walking along a street.”

“I was lost in thought,” she admitted, which intrigued Cedric. Any other lady would have flushed in a demure manner and tried to get him to forget her mishap. But she didn’t seem to be embarrassed by it in the slightest.

“What line of thought could have addled your brain so?” he mused aloud.

She tilted her head to look up at him. “I was studying you, my lord. You struck an interesting and imposing figure and I was wondering who you could be.”

Cedric was at a loss for words. He couldn’t tell if it was her candid words or the way she was looking at him. Perhaps both.

Finally, he found the strength to ask, “What is your name, lady of mystery?”

She smiled. “Lady of Mystery. That has a lovely ring to it. Perhaps I should insist that I only be addressed as such going forward. ”

Cedric cracked a smile but insisted, “Tell me your name, please.”

“Lady Caroline Winterbourne.”

The name struck him as familiar. It took him a moment to remember where he’d heard it from. “Are you the Viscount of Winterbourne’s daughter?”

Her smile turned rueful, her eyes shadowed with sadness. “Not his daughter. His wife.”

Cedric frowned, remembering it suddenly. He knew Lord Winterbourne in passing, only because he had been a friend of Cedric’s father. But he spent most of his time in the countryside. If he could recall correctly, the last time Cedric had seen Lord Winterbourne was a few years ago when the viscount had come to London to seek a wife.

“His wife,” Cedric echoed. “His widow.”

She nodded, solemn. “Did you know him well?”

“My father did, so I knew him in passing. He was a good man. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Her rueful smile grew, eyes gleaming with something he could not put his finger on. “Have I ruined my air of mystery with such somber information about myself?”

He shook his head. They moved with such unison that he hardly had to think about what he was doing. He wasn’t thinking about anything really, except the beautiful lady in his arms.

“Not quite,” he admitted. “There is still much that I am curious about.”

“Such as?”

“Such as why you took interest in me that day, to the point of nearly injuring yourself.”

Her laugh was like the song of sirens, light and enticing. “I shan’t say. A lady mustn’t give away too many of her secrets in one night.”

“I suppose this means that I will have to work to uncover those secrets then,” Cedric murmured.

She met his eyes, her smile falling as she nodded. “I hope you are not daunted by that fact. As candid I may be, I am not an open book. ”

“I beg to differ. I think I know quite a number of things about you already.”

“Oh? Such as?”

“You do not enjoy dancing unless, of course, you have the right dance partner. You aspire to become a wallflower, a feat rather impossible considering you possess beauty that cannot be ignored. You have a smile capable of stopping men in their tracks and a laugh that keeps others from thinking straight. I think that is quite a number of things to know about a lady whose name I’ve only just learned, don’t you?”

Her smile was completely gone now. And the look in her eyes could easily be deciphered: stunned.

“That is not fair,” she said at last. “You must have taken those words straight from Lord Byron. And I can hardly beat that.”

Cedric’s laughter surprised him more than it surprised her. “It is not a competition, my lady.”

“I know that,” she said with a nod. And then again, “I know that,” as if she was trying to convince herself.

“And besides, I do not waste my time reading such things. My interests are more likened to philosophy and history.”

“Interesting topics to be certain. I enjoy all books and I am a firm believer that one should have a healthy dose of fiction and non-fiction.”

“Fiction?” He frowned. “Like novels?”

“Yes.” It felt as if her eyes were boring into him. “Is there something wrong with that?”

He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “I must admit that I have never been drawn to them. But given that fact, I cannot say for certain if I would enjoy them or not.”

She visibly brightened. “I could give you a few recommendations, if you wish. I could give you a wide variety, from mysteries to drama to romance.”

“Something tells me I would not be able to say no.”

“Do you want to?” she asked with a raised brow.

He shook his head with surprising ease. “I must admit that I am intrigued.”

“Then it is settled.” Cedric watched that beautiful smile stretch across her face once more. The set came to an end and they were forced to stand apart, much like she did with her other dance partners. Only this time, she did not seem to be in any rush to leave. She kept grinning even as she sank into her curtsy.

“Caroline!” An older, more ample version of Caroline hastened to her side. Cedric had no choice but to assume that she was Caroline’s mother. They were spitting images of each other. “Lord Sotheby is about to take his leave. We must bid him adieu.”

“Mother, I am in the middle of—”

“The dance is over, so you needn’t—” Caroline’s mother stopped in her tracks the moment she noticed Cedric. Her lips parted, eyes widening.

“Good evening,” he greeted politely.

“Lady York,” she supplied. She blinked, shaking her head slightly. “You must pardon my presumption in absconding with my daughter, but there is a matter of great urgency that requires our attention. Caroline, do come, for we cannot afford to keep Lord Sotheby in abeyance.”

“But, Mother, I—” Caroline could not fight it. As she was tugged away, she sent an apologetic look over her shoulder. Cedric watched as her mother pulled her over to the waiting Lord Sotheby, who was standing by the door.

There was something about the abrupt end to their time together that left him feeling empty. It was like he was coming down from something, as if he had been in a state of euphoria and was now being grounded in reality. He realized that others were staring now, and while he was often used to the attention, it was never quite like this.

He turned in the opposite direction to fetch a glass of wine. He needed something stronger right now to shake off this odd feeling, but he supposed the wine would just have to do.

***

Caroline burst into her bedchamber, nearly tripping over the hem of her dress in her haste. She hardly noticed that fact, righting herself immediately as she stumbled over to her writing desk. The only thing she remembered to do in her hurry was to lock her door behind her, not wanting her nosy mother to gain entrance into her room without warning.

Elizabeth had been bothering her the entire carriage ride home about Lord Sotheby. And, during it all, Caroline could only think of one thing. One person.

She reached for her quill, fetched a clean sheet of paper, and began to write.

Words flew from the tip of her quill pen. Every ounce of her excitement and fervor and giddiness was poured into the lines she scribbled out, with only a pair of icy blue eyes driving her forward.

She’d never felt inspiration quite like this.

It was as if the Earl of Colenhurst lit a fire under her and she wouldn’t be able to stop until that fire died down. Right now, it blazed like a fearsome inferno when she remembered the way he’d looked down at her as they danced, the gentle touch of his hand on the small of her back, the low baritone of his voice and his chuckle and the glimmer of humor in his eyes as they spoke. As she wrote, she was transported to those far too quick minutes that she’d wished would last forever.

The heroine would feel everything she had felt tonight. Being in the arms of an otherwise brooding gentleman as the world disappeared around them. She could only hope that her readers swooned at this the way she almost had.

She didn’t stop once. Even as her hand cramped and her eyes began to blur. Even when the candle went out and she was forced to light another, breaking her rhythm for a few moments. Caroline kept writing until sunlight was peaking over the horizon, dawn imminent.

Only then did she allow herself to rest. She returned the quill to its inkwell and looked at the scores of pages she’d managed to churn out., satisfied. Exhaustion hung behind her eyelids at last. Not bothering to change, she got up from her desk and lumbered over to her bed, collapsing on top, asleep before she hit the surface.