Snowflakes and Scandals

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Minerva kept to the shadows later that night on her way to the library. Since her brother had decided to send her away, and she was now willing to go, she decided to take her favorite books with her. Even if they were Humphrey’s favorites, too.

However, curiosity got the better of her when she heard the energetic playing on the pianoforte yet again. Mrs. Franks played beautifully, and though Mr. Stonebeck claimed he was not the man to turn her pages now, she wanted confirmation of his disinterest.

She peeked around every corner carefully on her way to the music room, and that was how she spotted Frederick Stonebeck for the second time that day.

He was seated in the music room, looking handsome and at ease at the back of the room, facing the pianoforte but with an empty seat left beside him. His fingers tapped along with the melody, and it was clear that he was enjoying the evening’s entertainment.

She studied him a long moment more, disappointed Frederick’s attention remained fixed on the front of the room, where the instrument took pride of place. Then she scurried away as silently as her slippers would allow to her original destination. Once in the library, she selected the five volumes of poetry she loved most, listening with half an ear to the performance ebb and flow.

She looked about the library again and saw that the news sheet had been left on the lectern. While she’d read it already, something in it had piqued her interest all day. She snatched it up and fled back in the direction of her secret room, where she’d spent most of the night.

She had already begun to pack. She would be certain to leave nothing she valued behind. It would be hard to go but, in the end, she didn’t want to remain where she was so little appreciated by her brother.

She hurried back to the hidden door and slipped into the stairwell. Breathing a sigh of relief at having encountered no one, she climbed the stairs to her private chamber and shut the door with another, heavier sigh.

“I find scurrying about in the dark utterly nerve-racking, too,” Frederick announced, standing up and bowing to her. “Good evening, Miss Chase. Did you find something worthwhile to read in the library?”

“Yes,” she admitted, startled by his appearance and wondering how he knew what she’d been up to that night. He’d seemed utterly engrossed in the performance.

He snatched a volume of poetry from her hand, glanced at the title page, and promptly handed it back. “I missed you at dinner.”

She winced. She had deliberately deceived him about her dinner plans for tonight, and he must suspect she’d done it to avoid him yet again. She had, but it was not only for that reason. Her brother had not wanted her there. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs in the music room doing all you can to make my brother jealous?”

“I’ve done enough to aid his cause today. It’s time for yours.”

“Mine?”

“I got the impression from your brother that you were never to dine with us again,” he said slowly, folding his arms across his chest and looking at her in such a way that suggested he already knew what was going on. But he couldn’t know what Humphrey had said about her. Surely Humphrey couldn’t be so cruel. “What is going on?”

She smiled and pretended everything was how it should be. “I don’t know what you mean. I was never explicitly required to join the party or dinners every day,” she assured him, but hated the lie. He was concerned. Being a friend. But that did not mean she had to confess her humiliation to him. “I was simply too busy and forgot to let you know I would not be joining everyone. The housekeeper knew, though.”

He looked at her with barely concealed suspicion. “Well, whatever the reason, I was sorry to have not had your company. I was looking forward to talking with you again.”

She laughed softly and turned away from him, setting her books down with the other things she’d gathered from the house. The paper, she folded to the page she wanted to read again. “Did you have more to confess? Have you made another wager with my brother?”

“I think I’m done with wagers for a good long while. They only cause problems between friends,” he admitted, offering her a hesitant smile when she turned around. “Do you trust me enough for us to become friends?”

She nodded. Friends was better than nothing, even when it wouldn’t be for long. She had been legitimately busy all afternoon, but when the dinner hour had arrived, she regretted she couldn’t attend to talk with him, too.

“Good, then let me tell you what you missed at dinner,” he teased, then regaled her with her brother’s poor attempts at capturing the widow’s attention, and him missing her flirtations back.

Although she might never forgive her brother for what he’d said about her, she did laugh. “I despair of him ever marrying.”

“So do I,” he agreed. “You should see him in a London ballroom. Two left feet.”

“I’m sure,” she said, and then pursed her lips. It was something she would never see again. London . Or ballrooms. All she had were memories. She shook her head, dispelling her regrets, which were many. “I was too busy with my own season to notice what he did when I was there.”

“I had not the pleasure of dancing with you that year,” Frederick admitted. “I was at home, mourning my mother.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said softly, but she really knew nothing of the Stonebeck family or his mother. “It is hard to lose a parent.”

“And I am sorry for your loss, too. By the time I returned to London, you must have been back here, mourning your father.”

“Yes, I imagine so.”

“Perhaps when you are in London next time, I might see you at a ball, and you might permit me the honor of a dance,” he said, his grin firmly back in place. “I’m a much better dancer than your brother.”

She nodded, wishing that might be the case. But she would never visit London again, if Humphrey had his way. And Frederick would be dancing with other pretty ladies, while she watched the storms rolling in from the sea at the Cornwall estate, alone.

She could not tell him that she was being sent away.

“Where’s your clawed little friend,” he asked, looking around.

“He ran away, back into the garden as soon as his belly was filled at luncheon,” Minerva confessed.

“Cats can be like that. Fickle creatures at first, but once they know where the food is best and plentiful, you can hardly be rid of them. Leave food by an open window.”

“I would, if it wouldn’t let in the cold, too,” she said, still wondering why Frederick had come looking for her. He had explained himself, and she was inclined to believe him now. There was nothing left for them to say to each other.

But instead of going, he made himself at home on the settee and rested his arm along the back of it. She easily remembered when his arms were wrapped tight about her body.

She cleared her throat and moved to her stack of books and the paper. The advertisement was intriguing, and perhaps a better solution for her unwed state than exile to Cornwall.

“Will you still be skulking around the edges of the party, avoiding me and the other guests tomorrow?” Frederick queried.

She turned around and smiled. “I am not avoiding the guests.”

“Then what keeps you away from us?”

She sighed. She would have to tell him something to appease his curiosity. “My brother and I have had a difference of opinion.”

“About what?”

“It is a personal matter.”

He considered her words for a long moment, and then sat forward. “Is there anything I can do to help? Can I speak to your brother on your behalf? I am absolutely certain you can do no wrong.”

She laughed at his claim. He meant well. “I won’t have him become suspicious of your interest in me. I think the matter is best forgotten by you.”

He nodded slowly, but then frowned. “Were you hurt today? By the kitten?”

“Just a few scratches. Nothing serious.”

He glanced down at her legs. “The wounds might become infected.”

“I’m sure they won’t. I applied enough ointment.”

He winked and stood. “Perhaps I had better take a look, just to be sure you got them all properly lathered up.”

She met his gaze and saw he was teasing her again. Acting the way he had when they were alone for the first time. When she’d been intoxicated and out of her depth.

When they had kissed.

Frederick Stonebeck had not acted as if she was plain or undesirable or dull company then, the way her brother claimed others did. The way Frederick behaved made her feel seen and appreciated.

But he had no honorable intentions, or any intentions at all where she was concerned. He was just amusing himself while waiting for her brother to win the wager.

Though, he was amusing her , now. Cheering her up a little. She appreciated the effort he’d taken to clear the air between them today, and his continued flirting made her heart happy rather than sad. “I think you should return to the music room before you are missed.”

“I claimed a headache and wished everyone a good night before I came up here,” he admitted. “I’ve had enough of the noise.”

A smile tugged on her lips, and she reached out to rub his brow. “Poor Mr. Stonebeck. It must have been torture to listen to a beautiful woman play so well.”

“And I had no one to share the pain with,” he said, capturing her fingers. He brought them to his mouth and kissed them. “I haven’t heard you play yet, but I understand you are very good, too.”

“And you never will hear me play,” she promised, extracting her fingers from his grip quickly. “I play to amuse myself, but my meager talents were best inflicted only upon members of my family, who loved me no matter how imperfect I am.”

“Well, that is a severe disappointment, and I doubt there’s an imperfect bone in your body,” he said. His face grew serious once more. “When will I see you again? Tomorrow at breakfast, so I can distract you from reading the paper again?”

“Perhaps,” she admitted, although she doubted he would rise early enough for that. He was a perpetually late riser.

Minerva was still upset with her brother and didn’t want to ever be in the same room with him when there was food, dishes or plates, breakable things that she could throw at him.

Frederick growled softly. “Look, I don’t know what went on between you and your brother, but please know there is one person at this house party who would rather see you than him.” He leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to her cheek. “I mean that. I will see you tomorrow somehow .”

Minerva considered swooning.

Frederick Stonebeck might have made a perfect suitor, if he wasn’t her brother’s best friend and so disinterested in marriage and proper ladies.

She did not meet his gaze, but they stayed standing together, heads bowed and touching, for several long heartbeats.

“Goodnight, sir,” she whispered, at a loss for how to drive him away a second time.

Frederick growled softly again, as if annoyed by her request. “Very well. You give me no choice but to retreat. Sweet dreams, Minnie dear. Think of me, and for heaven’s sake, come save me from boredom tomorrow.”

He left in a rush of stomping footsteps, leaving Minnie reeling with anguish for what might have been. When the party was over, she would never see Frederick again. They would never have that dance, never flirt, and certainly never kiss.

She might just miss Frederick most of all, too.