What Happens At Christmas by Victoria Alexander

Grayson Elliott,” she said in a grand manner. “I am Lady Briston, Millicent to my close friends, and I do think we are going to be close, close friends.”
    â€œBernadette,” he said without thinking.
    Her eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”
    â€œLady Briston’s given name is Bernadette.”
    Her brows drew together. “Are you certain?”
    â€œFairly certain.”
    â€œI could have sworn it was Millicent,” she murmured.
    A thought struck him, but surely his cousin would have mentioned this. “Unless, of course, you’ve married Lord Briston. Colonel Channing, that is.”
    â€œDear Lord, no. Absolutely not. Such an idea.” She shook her head. “I am definitely not married. As far as I can recall, although I was once.” She heaved a heartfelt sigh. “It did not go well.”
    Gray stared. “Then I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
    â€œThat’s quite all right.” She patted his arm and cast him a sympathetic smile. “It happens to everyone on occasion. I myself don’t understand, rather more often than not. Let me see if I can explain.” She thought for a moment. “I am Lady Briston. I have a brother-in-law, Colonel Channing. Right, thus far?”
    Gray nodded mutely.
    â€œI knew I was right.” She beamed. “And I have three daughters. Two of them look exactly alike, you know.” She shook her head. “It’s most confusing.”
    â€œLady, er, Briston.” Gray chose his words carefully. “I have been gone for a number of years. Still, there are things—”
    â€œI beg your pardon.” Fortesque stepped briskly into the parlor. Gray wouldn’t have thought it possible from their initial meeting, but the man looked a bit harried. “Lady Briston, I was sent to find you.”
    â€œAnd so you have, my dear Fortesque.”
    The butler slanted a quick glance at Gray. “I was to find you before you greeted any visitors.”
    â€œThen you do need to be on your toes, Fortesque,” she said in a chastising manner. “Why, I have already met Mr. Elliott. Mr. Grayson Elliott. Delightful name, don’t you agree?”
    â€œYes, my lady.” Fortesque’s jaw tightened, but his tone was eminently proper. “Your presence is required elsewhere.”
    â€œIs it, indeed?” She cast the butler what could only be described as a saucy look. Who was this woman?
    â€œYes, my lady,” he said in an overly stern manner. “Elsewhere. At once.”
    â€œTo meet the prince, no doubt.” She leaned toward Gray confidentially. “I haven’t met him yet, but I understand he’s very handsome and quite taken with one of the blond daughters. I’m not sure which.”
    Gray drew his brows together. “What prince?”
    â€œAt once, Lady Briston,” the butler said again.
    â€œOh, well, then.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “I shall make my exit with the grace and dignity befitting my position.” With that, she raised her chin and fairly floated out of the room, Fortesque a step behind.
    Gray stared after them. Perhaps that was one of the odd guests who were so often to be found residing at Millworth Manor. Still, he was certain few of them believed themselves to be Lady Briston.
    A young woman passed by the doorway, casting an absent glance in his direction. Less than a moment later, she reappeared and favored him with an interested smile.
    â€œGood day.”
    Her hair was a vivid shade of dark red and she was extremely pretty, with large doelike brown eyes and an exceptional figure.
    He smiled. “Good day.”
    She studied him curiously. “Are you another one of the players?”
    â€œThe players?”
    â€œMr. Fortesque said he might have to hire additional players, as this house is so very large and requires a fair number of servants.” Her gaze wandered over him in an