Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

29 December

C hristiana called everyone to attention. “Today we shall play croquet.”

Lady Elwood pursed her lips. “But you said both of us could play, and it’s cold outside.” The viscountess brushed crumbs off her azure bodice, then finished her tea. “I’ll stay here and finish the biscuits.”

“It shall be an inside game.”

All four sets of eyes locked on her.

“Croquet inside?” asked Lord Bentson.

“How will you get the hoops to stand?” asked Lord Elwood.

“Oh, I have no doubt she has a plan,” said Lucius.

“When I was young,” began Christiana, “my parents would make up inside games when the weather was bad. We would put numbers on pieces of furniture, and they would be our hoops. We would play from one room to the next and then move to the lower level.”

Lord Bentson slapped his knee, his face crinkling with pleasure. “’Pon my soul, child, that is clever. I bet your mother thought it up.”

Christiana smiled at him and nodded. “We will begin on the first floor in the small parlor and work our way back here. My lady’s maid has placed the numbers on the next floor and will have them laid out down here when we return.”

The group followed her upstairs, and each took a mallet with a ball. The upstairs parlor had a small hearth flanked by two small brocade chairs, a chaise longue by the window, and several tables.

“As you see, the paper on each piece of furniture tells you what order to send the ball.” They took turns hitting the balls first under the chairs, then a side table, the length of the chaise longue, and under another table.

“Now what?” asked Lord Bentson, swinging his mallet like a dandy with a new cane.

Christiana walked to the top of the staircase and pointed at the bottom. A chair had been placed between the bottom step and the front door. “The ball must go down the stairs and under the chair. Then once we are back in the entryway, you must send the ball back under the chair and into the drawing room.”

The chaos began. Lord Elwood sent his ball bouncing down the steps, on top of the chair, clunking against the front door. Lady Elwood’s ball made it halfway down the steps and stopped. Lord Bentson got his ball to the bottom step but not beneath the chair. Lord Page managed to get his ball down the steps and under the chair.

Once in the entryway, Lord Elwood sent his ball back under the chair, slamming Lord Page’s ball toward the drawing room, and stopping below the last step. Lady Elwood tapped hers from the middle of the stairway, hit Lord Bentson’s, which hit Lord Elwood’s, and all three balls rolled in three different directions. The clank of wood and the exclamations and shouts from the players had Christiana laughing so hard, she had to wipe away tears.

“I do believe this is more fun as an adult,” she said between hiccups. Lucius angled his ball from the drawing-room door to the center of the room. By the time Lucius was declared the winner, Lord Elwood had finally made it out of the entryway.

“Brandy is always a good idea after a battle,” said Lord Bentson.

“I second that.” Lord Elwood went to the side table and poured two glasses, then looked over his shoulder at Lord Page, who nodded. “Ladies? A drink? Some sherry?”

He passed out the drinks, and they settled back into the seats they’d claimed as their own during the house party. The atmosphere was jovial, and Christiana wanted the camaraderie to continue.

“Lord Page has three points. He wins and will be granted the mines in Wales.” Lord Bentson was the first to point out the obvious. “Although I’m disappointed, I have to say this is the best house party I’ve attended in years. And at my age, that’s quite a list.”

“I’m not actually gaining the mines. It’s Sir Horace who is buying them,” reminded Lucius.

Lady Elwood patted her husband’s arm. “I’m sorry you didn’t win, love.”

“I admit I’m a bit disappointed, but I’m overjoyed you—we—have made a new friend. And to think she’s been our neighbor all this time.” He smiled down at his wife, then at Christiana. “Lady Winfield, we hope to see much more of you in the coming months. My wife throws splendid garden parties. Or so I’m told.”

Christiana beamed. “I have an announcement. This entire charade began to rid myself of all the men who wanted something from me. I thought I wanted peace and to be left alone. Instead, I have made new friends who I hope become dear old friends.”

“A toast!” said Lucius, standing. “To a new year and new beginnings.”

They held up their glasses and drank to one another.

“Lord Bentson, I am still willing to sell you the Ming vase. I believe my mother would have wanted you to have it.” She smiled at him, her chest expanding with happiness. “However, your last offer was much too high. We shall come to a fair price before you leave.”

“Lady Winfield, you are a diamond of the first water,” he said, slapping his knee. “I thank you.”

“Under one condition,” she said. “We must keep in touch. I would be heartbroken if our time together ended here.”

“I’d be honored. I have more stories to tell you,” he agreed, his hazel eyes glistening.

“Lord Elwood, if we are to be friends as well as neighbors, I see no reason you cannot hunt on my property. My only request is you notify me, so I avoid that area when you are shooting.” She grinned. “By notifying me, I mean an invitation to your lovely home which I would love to visit.”

“Oh my dear, I can’t stand it,” cried Lady Elwood. She jumped from her chair and pulled Christiana from her seat, wrapping her in a fierce hug. “I’ve been wanting to do that for two days.”

Christiana blinked back tears and soaked up all the kindness in the older woman’s hug. All these years, she had lived in this huge house practically alone. Yet, these amazing people she had considered pests had been here all along. Waiting to befriend her.

***

Christiana descended the steps, wondering why Lucius had told her to dress in her favorite gown. Feeling sentimental, she wore the same gold silk skirt and bodice that had been packed away since the last time she’d danced with Lucius. The silver thread knotted along the square neckline and hem shimmered with each step. Constance had done her hair, a loose knot with silver ribbon woven into the chignon and long curls falling over her shoulders.

Lucius stepped out from beneath the staircase as she landed on the bottom step and held out his arm. “Lady Christiana, may I escort you to the ball?”

“What?” His grin was infectious, so she nodded, playing along when he addressed her as if she were not married. “Why yes, Lord Page, I’d be delighted.”

They entered the drawing room, and she gasped at the dozens of candles casting a dazzling light about the room. The furniture had been pushed back to clear the center for dancing. Near the pianoforte sat Lord Bentson in a black evening coat and waistcoat, his cravat perfectly tied and pristine white. He bowed, picked up a violin, and the first notes of a waltz began.

Lord and Lady Elwood stepped from behind them and began to dance. The viscount was also dressed to the nines, and Lady Elwood wore a lovely rose satin gown with tiny paste diamonds along the bodice. Her hair was piled on top of her head with a tiara resting on top that glittered as she moved.

Lucius stood above her, his spicy scent and deep timbre tickling her senses. “Lady Christiana, may I have this dance?”

Without a word, she stepped into his arms. His hand was warm and firm on her back, their palms together, holding her balanced as they turned. “You are an excellent dancer, Lord Page.”

“I have an excellent partner,” he said.

He made small talk as they waltzed, and some of it seemed familiar. He spoke of people they once knew, walks in Hyde Park, a soiree they had attended before she had married. After the dance, Lucius walked her to a side table where he poured her a drink from a punch bowl and offered her thin cucumber sandwiches.

“I feel like I’m back at Almack’s,” she said with a chuckle.

“Lud, I’d hate to be that young again,” said Lady Elwood, then grunted when her husband poked her with his elbow. “We’re happy you could attend our ball, Lord Page, Lady Christiana. Please enjoy yourselves.”

The couple walked away, and Christiana frowned. Were they pretending to be someone else? She squinted at Lord Bentson across the room. He winked at her and picked his violin up again, beginning a second waltz.

“Let’s shock the wagging tongues of London and dance a second time,” Lucius said, taking her in his arms. When they neared the doorway, he twirled her into the entryway and out the front door, held open by Mr. Jensen.

“Lord Page, what are you doing?” she asked as the cold air sent goose bumps up her arms. Lucius took off his coat and put it around her shoulders.

“Lady Christiana, it is Christmastide, and my grandmother always told me that anything is possible this time of year. In the spirit of this magical holiday, I have been granted the ability to turn the clock back for one night.” He wrapped his arms about her and pulled her close. “So, I’ve returned us to the evening where everything might have been different.”

Her heart pounded; her mouth went dry. “A second chance?”

He nodded, then bent his head, and kissed her. Her mind went back to the night she regretted with all her heart. She had been so confused, Edward so certain, and Lucius so desperate. If she had only known then…

His mouth claimed hers now, bringing her back again to the present. His urgency sent a lightning bolt of desire through her. His hands grasped her hips, pulling her against his hard length, then caressed her back.

Christiana wrapped her arms around his waist, the warmth of his shoulders seeping through his linen shirt and waistcoat. Her hands moved over him, feeling the muscles bunch under her touch, her lips seeking, wanting to prove her desire was as strong as his. She kissed him with all the pent-up longing of wasted years, the impatience of a woman starved.

When he ended the kiss, both of them panting despite the frigid temperatures, he said, “Lady Christiana, I beg of you. Marry me. The gossip will die down soon enough if you break off your engagement. Let us elope, go to Scotland tonight.” He kissed her again, one hand cupping her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek and catching her first tear.

“Make me the happiest of men and forsake your betrothed. I love you with a fierceness that I cannot tame. Marry me, Christiana. Right the wrongs of our past.” His green eyes, dark with passion, locked with hers, his square jaw tense. “Let us not make the same mistake twice.”

He was allowing her to toss her regret aside and choose again. But this time, her heart would make the right decision. “Yes, Lucius, yes. I will marry you. I will be your wife.”

“Say it. Say the words, Christiana,” he whispered in her ear.

“I love you, Lucius Page. I love you with all my heart.”

“I want you to repeat those words every day for the rest of our lives.”

From the door, the clapping and cheering commenced. Lord and Lady Elwood let out whoops of joy, Lord Bentson began a lively tune on the violin, and Mr. Jensen held the door open to welcome them back to the present time.

“Get out of the cold, you young fools,” cried Lady Elwood. “Celebrate in front of the Yule log.”