his coded questions. An unspoken truce had been made.
His betrothed’s hair was styled in a different arrangement. Perhaps because a maid other than Isabelle had styled it? If Isabelle and Lady Theodosia had indeed crossed paths, he was not sure it would have been a pleasant meeting.
As they walked side-by-side to the carriage, her parents behind them, one thought troubled him the most. Isabelle had been so certain of Lady Theodosia’s affections for the man, but now, the lady appeared to no longer want him. What could have changed her opinion?
He had spotted Lady Pamela lurking outside after he had thought she and the other lady had left. Could she have told Theodosia something that made her reconsider her allegiance?
The man—he must be the source of a scandal then. Adrian wracked his brain and nearly forgot to help Theodosia into the carriage. Once he was settled across from her and next to her father, he realized who the man had to be. None other than Baron Malcolm Thrush. Thrush’d had an affair with a servant girl two or three years prior and threw her out onto the streets. And rumor had it he had squandered most of his family’s properties to gambling debts. No wonder Theodosia wanted nothing to do with her masked man.
For Adrian could not cast her aside nor could he hand her over to her love, not when her love was a man who used women and money as if they were meaningless objects. Adrian was honor bound to his future wife.
Honor came above love.
“You seem to be deep in thought,” Lady Theodosia said.
He could hardly share his mind’s churnings with her. Instead he asked, “Are you pleased with my suggestion? For the party?”
“Of course. I’m so glad you proposed it.”
Adrian gave her a tiny smile. This year would be the first time in a decade in which he did not hunt fox on Boxing Day.
“I hope we have a good turnout,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sure we shall. All those who were planning on coming for the hunt will already be coming. Lady Pamela has ways to spread news faster than anyone. She knows so the entire country probably does by now.” She laughed and glanced out the window.
“Good. The more, the livelier it will be. But for right now, I can’t wait until the feast.”
***
Christmas dinner was most exquisite. The pig’s head, the gingerbread, and his personal favorite march pane, all melted in his mouth. The roast beef was tender; the Brussels sprouts cooked to perfection. Their Christmas pudding was rather different than what he was used to. Heavy on the currants and citron, not enough brown sugar, but all in all, the pudding was still pleasant.
He ate and ate and ate. Lady Theodosia sat across from him. Three or four of her small mouthfuls were equal to his one.
She patted a napkin to her mouth and stood. “Please excuse me.”
Adrian stood, as did her father. “Happy Christmas,” he called to her.
The lady held up her hand to acknowledge him but did not turn around.
“Nerves,” her mother said. “I had originally promised to take her out shopping for the wedding tomorrow since I thought you would be out fox hunting, but we’ll go the day after. I must say I am very excited about us hosting a party to celebrate your engagement. What a wonderful idea.”
“Any chance your parents will be able to attend?” Lord Haywood asked before reaching for more gingerbread.
“I’m afraid I don’t think so.” Adrian swallowed hard. Some march pane was stuck in his throat, and he drank the rest of his wine. He missed the wassail bowl, a tradition in the Wingrave Manor. A mixture of beer, sherry, sugar, and various spices had a lot more kick to it than wine.
“Where exactly are they? I don’t believe you said.” Lord Haywood gestured to Adrian’s empty glass, and a maid stepped forward to refill it.
He winced at his disappointment that the girl was not Isabelle. She still had not made an appearance, and the fear that she had been kicked out of the house seized
His betrothed’s hair was styled in a different arrangement. Perhaps because a maid other than Isabelle had styled it? If Isabelle and Lady Theodosia had indeed crossed paths, he was not sure it would have been a pleasant meeting.
As they walked side-by-side to the carriage, her parents behind them, one thought troubled him the most. Isabelle had been so certain of Lady Theodosia’s affections for the man, but now, the lady appeared to no longer want him. What could have changed her opinion?
He had spotted Lady Pamela lurking outside after he had thought she and the other lady had left. Could she have told Theodosia something that made her reconsider her allegiance?
The man—he must be the source of a scandal then. Adrian wracked his brain and nearly forgot to help Theodosia into the carriage. Once he was settled across from her and next to her father, he realized who the man had to be. None other than Baron Malcolm Thrush. Thrush’d had an affair with a servant girl two or three years prior and threw her out onto the streets. And rumor had it he had squandered most of his family’s properties to gambling debts. No wonder Theodosia wanted nothing to do with her masked man.
For Adrian could not cast her aside nor could he hand her over to her love, not when her love was a man who used women and money as if they were meaningless objects. Adrian was honor bound to his future wife.
Honor came above love.
“You seem to be deep in thought,” Lady Theodosia said.
He could hardly share his mind’s churnings with her. Instead he asked, “Are you pleased with my suggestion? For the party?”
“Of course. I’m so glad you proposed it.”
Adrian gave her a tiny smile. This year would be the first time in a decade in which he did not hunt fox on Boxing Day.
“I hope we have a good turnout,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sure we shall. All those who were planning on coming for the hunt will already be coming. Lady Pamela has ways to spread news faster than anyone. She knows so the entire country probably does by now.” She laughed and glanced out the window.
“Good. The more, the livelier it will be. But for right now, I can’t wait until the feast.”
***
Christmas dinner was most exquisite. The pig’s head, the gingerbread, and his personal favorite march pane, all melted in his mouth. The roast beef was tender; the Brussels sprouts cooked to perfection. Their Christmas pudding was rather different than what he was used to. Heavy on the currants and citron, not enough brown sugar, but all in all, the pudding was still pleasant.
He ate and ate and ate. Lady Theodosia sat across from him. Three or four of her small mouthfuls were equal to his one.
She patted a napkin to her mouth and stood. “Please excuse me.”
Adrian stood, as did her father. “Happy Christmas,” he called to her.
The lady held up her hand to acknowledge him but did not turn around.
“Nerves,” her mother said. “I had originally promised to take her out shopping for the wedding tomorrow since I thought you would be out fox hunting, but we’ll go the day after. I must say I am very excited about us hosting a party to celebrate your engagement. What a wonderful idea.”
“Any chance your parents will be able to attend?” Lord Haywood asked before reaching for more gingerbread.
“I’m afraid I don’t think so.” Adrian swallowed hard. Some march pane was stuck in his throat, and he drank the rest of his wine. He missed the wassail bowl, a tradition in the Wingrave Manor. A mixture of beer, sherry, sugar, and various spices had a lot more kick to it than wine.
“Where exactly are they? I don’t believe you said.” Lord Haywood gestured to Adrian’s empty glass, and a maid stepped forward to refill it.
He winced at his disappointment that the girl was not Isabelle. She still had not made an appearance, and the fear that she had been kicked out of the house seized
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