Married By Twelfth Night (Regency Christmas Brides)

24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The dreaded dinner party had come. Mother had not been too keen on the idea of having guests over when she had wanted to give the servants a lighter load after all they had done for Christmas dinner. Grace felt terrible about it . . . as terrible as being seated next to Lady Edith. This was not the first time her clever ideas had landed her in trouble.

Richard sat across from her and tried to catch her eye. She gave the smallest shake of her head. If he dared wink at her, she would throw her spoon at him. Well, not really. Hopefully, she would think of something better if it indeed came to pass.

Lady Edith looked at her then and she quickly produced an innocent smile. Deep down, she dearly wanted to earn her approval and change her fate, even though she knew it was impossible.

“Do pass the scalloped potatoes,” Lady Edith said to her.

“Of course.” At least this she could handle. She lifted the platter, surprised to discover how hot it was. It slid from her fingers right in front of Lady Edith’s plate and hit the table hard. Potatoes splattered in a foot radius around the platter. That foot included a sizable spot on Lady Edith’s chest.

“Foolish girl!” Lady Edith exclaimed .

Bridget jumped up from her seat on the other side of her aunt and wiped at Aunt’s plate. Thoroughly embarrassed, Grace lifted her napkin to Lady Edith’s gown. “I’m so sorry.”

“Enough!” she scolded Grace, taking her napkin out of her hand. “I can certainly wipe off a bit of potato without any assistance.”

Mother motioned for a footman to come and clear away the rest of the disaster. Lovely, Grace had invited even more work for the servants. This day was going from bad to worse.

“Ruth,” Bridget said suddenly. “My aunt loves to read. Have you read anything you’ve enjoyed lately that you might recommend?”

Bridget easily took the attention away from Grace, but in doing so, Ruth’s glib ability to speak about authors and their sophisticated theories made Grace feel even more inferior than her sister. Grace only read adventure stories like Gulliver’s Travels and Robinson Crusoe while avoiding all academic essays and most poetry.

“Miss Steele,” Richard said, when there was a lull in conversation.

Grace jerked her head up, not expecting to be addressed. “Yes?”

“Why don’t you share with my aunt one of your riddles or conundrums.”

What was he doing? This was his chance to showcase Ruth to his aunt, not her. “I wouldn’t want to bore Lady Edith.”

“Nonsense,” Papa chipped in. “I always enjoy your riddles. Lady Edith should hear one.”

“Go ahead.” Lady Edith set her fork down.

Grace set her hands in her lap. “I don’t have my notebook with me, but I might be able to remember a short one.” She thought for a moment before spouting a simple rhyme she’d created the previous year. “After Christmas, I mark the end. A time for festivity, where joy doth lend. A special day with cake in the new year. What am I, bringing the holiday’s final cheer? ”

Everyone was silent for a moment, waiting for Lady Edith to answer first.

Lady Edith proceeded to slap her hand on the table. “Twelfth Night.”

Bridget lightly clapped her hands. “Well done, Aunt.”

“Let’s hear another one.” Lady Edith was clearly used to being obeyed.

Another? Good heavens. “I know many silly ones,” she said, “but I do not think you would appreciate them. I will try to think of one you might enjoy.”

Richard cleared his throat. “I have one.”

Grace blinked back her surprise. “Please, go ahead.”

Richard met her gaze and held it. “Tucked in green leaves, hanging high above, I have the power to spark new love. What am I, that invites a sweet embrace, never to be forgotten in one special place?”

His words propelled her back several days to their moment under the mistletoe. That kiss had changed everything. Richard had not just started a spark but a flame inside her. It had built with every moment, and whether they were together or apart, her emotions threatened to consume her.

He shouldn’t be looking at her this way. He shouldn’t be reminding her of that intimate moment and what might have been.

“Mistletoe,” Lady Edith shouted.

Richard broke their intense connection to look at his aunt. “Well done,” he whispered, his voice almost hoarse.

The older woman beamed after her triumphant guess. “I never knew I was partial to riddles.”

Certainly, no riddle had ever touched Grace in the same way as this one. Not once had one been delivered with such a loving gaze and a plea to be understood either. Blinking back tears, she pretended to eat, while the others attempted a few riddles of their own.

Dinner finally ended, and they gathered in the drawing room. Music took over as the source of entertainment. Ruth played marvelously. Grace sat by Bridget, but though Richard stood on the other end of the room, she could feel the heat of his stare on her.

It was no use. She didn’t want him to ask for Ruth’s hand. She didn’t want him to be an honorable man. She squeezed her eyes shut, hating herself for her selfish thoughts.

In the middle of a piece by Handel, Richard pulled her father aside and the two of them slipped from the room. Grace’s heart thudded like the drums before an execution. He would ask for Ruth’s hand, and it would be over. And she had no intention of standing in his way.

As they gathered at the door to bid goodnight, Grace could not meet Richard’s eye. She didn’t want to see how he felt. Relieved? Guilty? Sad? Richard exited first, then Bridget. Lady Edith was last.

“Wait.” She couldn’t let Lady Edith leave without speaking her peace. She hurried to her side. “I thought of one last riddle for you to take with you.”

Surprisingly the interruption did not bring a frown. “Oh? All right. I find I enjoy these little guessing games. Tell me what it is.”

Grace was happy she had pleased her, but this riddle was not meant for entertainment. She spoke slowly, forming the right words in the moment. “Twelfth Night brings an unexpected plan concerning heart, home, and a precious land. Hands are joined, hearts are torn. I have the power to bring love or scorn. Who am I?”

Lady Edith’s wrinkled brow furrowed in question.

Grace did not wait for her to respond. “Please consider what I have said. Goodnight and safe travels.”

Lady Edith eyed her strangely, her voice thoughtful. “Goodnight, Miss Steele.”