Let It Be Love by Victoria Alexander Page B

long as he had, the thought of marriage itself was as daunting to her as it was to him even if she had no other choice. But if Lizzie had seen Fiona in the corridor, he had an excellent chance of catching up with her.
    “No.” Lizzie’s voice was cool, although there was the distinct possibility she would not tell him even if she’d seen Fiona. His sister was not at all tolerant of his Christmas Eve trysts.
    “I see.” If Lizzie hadn’t seen her, Fiona had probably already returned to the ballroom.
    “Have you seen Nicholas?” Lizzie said.
    “Nicholas?” Jonathon murmured, still staring down the passageway as if to will Fiona’s return to the library by sheer desire alone. He might yet be able to find her among the crowd at the ball, although as he knew from past experience finding one lone female amid the revelers in the ballroom at the height of the evening was nearly impossible. Still, he could try.
    “Yes,” she snapped. “Nicholas Collingsworth? Sir Nicholas? Your dear old friend?”
    “Yes, of course.” Jonathon cast one last, longing look down the corridor, then slipped Fiona’s card into his waistcoat pocket.
    Lizzie had problems of her own, and regardless of the circumstances Jonathon now found himself in, he owed his sister whatever assistance he could provide. While he was confident she would soon be happily wed, the least he could do was help her along that path. It was a debt long past due. He heaved a sigh and turned toward his sister.
    “Well?” Lizzie said impatiently. “Have you seen him?”
    “Briefly….”
    By the time he finished with Lizzie and Nicholas, it might well be too late to find Fiona and clear up this misunderstanding tonight. He would have to call on her, and Oliver, as soon as possible. But between family festivities and obligations on Christmas Day tomorrow and Boxing Day after that, it would be at least two days before he could see her again.
    Surely nothing irrevocable would happen in the span of a mere two days?
    Three
    One, two or three days later, depending on one’s point of view and level of desperation…
    “Do you think he’s changed his mind?” Genevieve Fairchild’s offhand question hung idly in the air of the parlor Aunt Edwina—Lady Norcroft—had assigned to the sisters. Gen reclined on a chaise, her gaze remained fixed on the magazine she held in front of her, although she, and everyone else in the room, was acutely aware of the significance of the question, though no one had dared voice it aloud before now.
    “It’s been two full days, three if you count today as well.”
    “I don’t count today,” Fiona said, and continued to pace the floor just as she had done yesterday and the day before in those few, yet endless moments when holiday festivities had not compelled her attention. Aunt Edwina had taken advantage of having a full house to arrange all sorts of festive activities
    It would have been a great deal of fun if Fiona hadn’t had the pressing matter of her impending marriage on her mind.
    Sophia Fairchild looked up from her embroidery and traded knowing glances with her twin sister Arabella who sat writing at a ladies’ desk.
    “I would count today, if I were you,” Belle said under her breath.
    “Three days is a very long time,” Sophie murmured.
    “Two days,” Fiona snapped. “It’s only been two days. And as one was Christmas and the other Boxing Day, they scarcely count at all. Why, a very good argument could be made that Lord Helmsley and I came to our agreement less than a full day ago.”
    “If you want to delude yourself and live in a world peopled with fairies and elves and other creatures that don’t exist,” Gen said as if she were speaking more to herself than the others. Fiona stopped and glared at the younger woman. “I am not deluding myself. Lord Helmsley is a man of honor. He agreed to marry me—rather more quickly than I thought he would, but he agreed nonetheless. And I have every confidence that he will