Married By Twelfth Night (Regency Christmas Brides)

13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

When the carriage arrived at Callis Hall for the card party, Richard assisted Bridget out into the cold night, sheltering her tall, willowy form the best he could while they hurried up the steps. The wind was especially brisk tonight, and it chased them all the way inside.

Once they had shed their outer clothing, they followed Mr. Reed into the drawing room, which hummed with the chatter of guests. Something in the air smelled of the holidays almost upon them—perhaps it was the wood burning in the grate, or the smell of punch, or a mere idea in his head, but it was there all the same. Several tables had been set up about the room, but no one was sitting quite yet. They were clustered in small groups about the room, visiting.

“It’s a larger group than I anticipated.” A thrill of excitement filled Bridget’s voice. With Mother gone, Richard did not think it inappropriate for her to attend a party. They couldn’t keep her at home forever.

“Enjoy every minute,” Richard instructed. “That’s an order.”

Bridget laughed at his playful tone. “Look, there is Ruth. She must be expiring with the sheer numbers. Perhaps I should go and set her at ease.”

Richard had always thought his sister kind, but her age was known to be a selfish one. He was notably impressed with her thoughtfulness. He intended to follow Bridget, but in a moment of weakness, his eyes sought out Grace.

He found her by the fireplace, her gown an elegant but simple pink muslin. She was speaking to . . . to Mr. Craig. He had not realized the Steeles were acquainted with Craig. He wasn’t from Wetherfield, and Richard only knew him from his time at Oxford, as they were in the same graduating class together. Craig was a decent sort of fellow—handsome and obnoxiously driven. He took one step toward him, with the intention to greet him, when Grace laughed.

Richard’s jaw reflexively flinched. He continued his path toward them, stopping to take a quick bow to Mrs. Steele in passing before reaching the pair by the fireplace.

“I had no idea Wetherfield had such fine company,” Mr. Craig said to Grace, his smile lined with pleasure.

“Until you showed up,” Richard inserted, stepping beside Grace.

“Graham!” Craig grinned. “What the devil are you doing here?”

Richard’s own smile was not so wide, but he didn’t quite understand why. Shouldn’t he be happy to see an old school chum? “My estate neighbors Callis Hall.”

“So, I have you to blame for not telling me about the hidden gems here.” Craig’s gaze shifted back to Grace’s.

Was she blushing? Why did she blush so easily for Craig when it took Richard so much effort? “Yes, you can blame me. We do not give up our treasures easily.” He set his hand on the small of Grace’s back. Besides the kiss to her hand, he hadn’t touched her like this since their ice-skating, and it wasn’t as acceptable here as it was there. But he couldn’t bring himself to remove it. Instead, he shifted ever closer to her until she was firmly by his side.

Craig’s brow rose .

Well, they were courting, weren’t they? Shouldn’t everyone know it?

Grace’s voice came out strained. “I see my mother is waving me over. Excuse me.”

Richard’s hand instantly fell, and both he and Craig instinctively followed her line of vision to see Mrs. Steele with Mrs. Peterson and a young woman he did not recognize. She was pretty in a showy sort of way, her dress overtrimmed next to Grace’s, and a large bow pinned to her hair. Was this Mrs. Peterson’s niece? He heard that she might visit, and it was clear Mrs. Steele wanted Grace to befriend the woman.

Craig nudged him with his elbow. “My sister is a diamond of the first water. Don’t you agree?”

“Your sister?”

“Yes, we decided to come visit our aunt and uncle for the holidays. How fortunate to find we are among friends as well.”

Richard wasn’t feeling overly friendly, but he did possess some manners. “I welcome you both then.”

“Come, let me introduce you.”

Once they met the others, Richard put himself beside Grace again. He felt like he was standing guard, protecting Grace from the Craigs as the brother and sister answered general questions about their lives. Mr. Craig was not a pariah, but Richard didn’t want him getting any ideas of romance. Grace might not be for him, but he was positive Craig was not her equal. The man was a flirt of the highest order and in no hurry to settle down. Richard doubted that anything had changed in the eighteen months since they had seen each other last.

After a few minutes of visiting, they were ushered to a table to begin a game. He had hoped to end up at a table with Bridget and Ruth, but instead sat down with the Craigs and Grace. Bridget and Ruth took a table next to theirs. Richard caught Ruth’s eye and sent her a friendly smile. It was reciprocated, followed by a pointed look at her sister Grace, seated next to him, and a slight nod.

What was that supposed to mean? Was she encouraging him to court Grace? Or beat her at whist? He would have to think about it more later.

He glanced at Grace, who was oblivious of the small exchange. She was too busy whispering with Bridget, whose chair was back-to-back with her own. The two of them complimented each other’s gowns and hair before turning around to begin their prospective games. In the meantime, Miss Craig sat opposite him and would be his partner in whist. Lucky him.

“I have no doubt that you are an excellent card player, Mr. Graham,” Miss Craig said, commanding his attention. Her chin dipped toward one shoulder and her lashes fluttered in a practiced pose.

“I am fair,” he admitted, feigning focus on his fingernail.

Miss Craig picked up her fan. “No need to be modest.”

“Mr. Graham is never modest,” Grace quipped. “He is objectively fair at whist when paired with a partner of equal skill.”

Richard almost snorted, but a quick swipe of his nose prevented any rude sounds from omitting.

Craig chuckled. “And what of you, Miss Steele? Are you a regular card shark?” There was plenty of flirtation in Craig’s voice, and Richard’s hand nearly crumpled his cards. She was not his next conquest. The mere thought nearly made him growl.

Grace shook her head. “Young ladies are never card sharks, Mr. Craig, but I will try not to disappoint you with my abilities.”

Now who was being modest? At least she seemed to be intelligent enough not to melt into a puddle over Craig’s remarks. Richard leaned back in his chair, trying to shake off his attack pose .

The first round was played with painful slowness. The Craigs preferred to banter with their partners and cared little about strategy. Each time Grace laughed at something Craig said, Richard’s temper flared and his smile barely hid his gritted teeth. But why? Why was jealousy pillaging his reason and leaving it to hang from the rafters? Nothing had felt the same between them since their frank conversation on their carriage ride and his impulsive decision to kiss her wrist. But she was not his intended, and letting Craig flirt with her could be good for her future.

Grace won the first trick, and a few minutes later, the second.

“How did I manage to secure the best partner?” Craig asked, giving a subtle wink. Richard caught it and his careful social face disappeared behind furrowed brows. How dare he take such liberties. They had met not a half hour ago.

Miss Craig gave her brother a pouting face. “Not the best. No one can compare to Mr. Graham.” Her head turned toward him and produced another round of eyelash flutters.

Grace set a card down. “Indeed, when Mr. Graham concentrates on his hand, he can play exceptionally well.”

The dig made him swing his eyes to hers. So he had played badly this round. How was he supposed to concentrate with this ridiculous conversation happening before him?

She narrowed her eyes so quickly he almost missed it.

Why was she mad? She was supposed to be courting him , not falling for a perfect stranger. His long knee swung to the side to nudge her leg.

Her leg nudged him back, and not in a gentle, romantic way either. She was mad.

As subtly as he could, he motioned his head toward the floor.

Her brow quirked in confusion, but she quickly turned away so no one would see .

A few moments passed before he caught her eye again. This time with his hand between them, he motioned to the floor.

Her look of exasperation nearly stole all his ire and made him laugh, but he resisted. They needed to talk. He motioned again.

Grace let her hand of cards flutter to the floor. “Dear me.”

“Let me help,” Richard said. They both lowered to the ground and shifted under the tablecloth to reach the fallen cards.

“What is wrong with you?” Grace hissed. “You’re positively sullen and glaring at everyone.”

He leaned close so they wouldn’t be overheard. “What is wrong with me? What about you?”

She shook her pretty head and whispered, “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

His nose nearly touched hers, and he was drawn to her like water in a desert. “Besides flirting with strangers.” He didn’t know what he was doing, but whatever it was, he seemed to have lost all self-control.

“Speak for yourself!” Her eyes, a bright green, seemed to dare him to say otherwise, but it was a breathlessness in her voice that snagged on something in his chest.

“I’m trying to be your friend and . . .”

Why wasn’t she pulling away? Richard lost all the fight in his tone and tried to blink away the sudden tumult of feeling. He made the mistake of dropping his gaze to her mouth—rose pink, the bottom lip slightly fuller than the top. His heart pounded. A thread of desire stitched the air between them, cinching them ever closer.

He was going to kiss her.

“Did you lose a card?” Craig asked, pulling up the tablecloth.

Richard jerked back, knocking his head on the underside of the table. Grace’s smaller form slipped out from under the table with far more finesse .

“Not at all,” Grace said, her voice shaky but self-assured. “Mr. Graham was kneeling on one, but they’ve all been rescued.” He caught a subtle tremble in her hand, but by the time she climbed back to her seat, she appeared completely unruffled and intent on avoiding his gaze.

The rest of the game passed with a blur. His anger no longer simmered. It had been replaced with a glimmer of fear.

He had nearly kissed her.

Little Gracie May . . . his sister’s best friend . . . his greatest antagonist.

And the worst part?

He was thoroughly sorry he hadn’t.