“Your lips are turning blue. Let’s get you inside.”
“I’m quite alright. Thank you.”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed slightly and her smile tightened. “Let’s get you warm. Come along. We shall find Chauncey. He is a wonderful butler. I always feel welcome here.”
“I believe you are welcome everywhere you go, my dear.” Jonathan came up beside his wife, and Adeline watched him place a hand on Margaret’s back.
“Let’s all go inside. The footmen can see to the bags. As they usually do,” Jonathan eyed Lady Antonia as he took baby Katie from the nanny.
The family, plus Adeline, walked into Glass Hall.
Chapter 2
LUKERUBBEDHISHANDStogether. They were hot. What was their source of heat? They should have been chilly from the cool air and the snow he had been brushing off of the woman he had just met. Could he really call itmeetingif he didn’t know her name? Especially if he wouldn’t recognize her under the snow-covered face he had been midway through brushing off? No, he could probably not call itmeeting.
He clenched his hands into a fist and felt that his palms matched his fingers in temperature. His palms and fingertips. Two places of his body that had come into contact with the mystery woman.
He hadn’t immediately observed her emerging from the carriage, but when he had heard Lady Antonia’s snickering, he turned to see a woman face down in the snow. The footmen, along with everyone, were all focused on the Duke of Somersby’s carriage, an oversight to be sure. Since Luke was the closest to the snow-infused woman, and he had been taught by his grandmother to treat all people, regardless of station, with dignity and respect, he reached down to help her up. She had been light as a feather, but upon placing his hands on her waist, he had an odd thought of how natural it felt. Perhaps it had been too long since he had been with a woman.
Shaking off the thoughts of heated hands and snow-encrusted women, Luke allowed his thoughts to turn to his grandmother instead. Grandma Alice. More than just her parting words, she had spoken and lived one particular phrase to a T: always be humble, and always be kind.
Surely, his mother also emulated the family code, but Grandma Alice was their origin. After she passed, Glass Hall grew a little dim. His mother and three sisters had been walking around with empty eyes and hollow hearts for far too long now.
So this was the year. The year to finally do Christmas how Grandma Alice used to do it and how the family loved it. Everyone was out of mourning, and Luke, Duke of Stonecastle, could see just how much his family needed the joy of Christmas. It was all planned. To host the grandest Christmas party in ages, one needed to be thoroughly prepared. Luke had hired extra servants for the season. And of course there would be a masquerade ball. Grandma Alice’s favorite event. It had worked for her to find the love of her life, and it had proved successful for Alissa, Luke’s mother, to find true love as well. A bit of an odd family tradition, but if anything, Luke had high hopes for it.
As it was, he had enough women, mostly overbearing mothers at each elbow, introducing their eligible daughters to him. It was almost to the point that his body and mind turned numb upon hearing the words:May I present my daughter?
The only thing was that wherever he turned, each mother-daughter pair knew he was a duke. That wouldn’t be so terrible exceptthat factwas all they really knew about him: duke.
Duke? Marry him. Not a duke? Move on.
Perhaps that was the magic of the masquerade. One could don a domino and play any character they chose. Incognito to the eyes of theton. There was an enviable amount of freedom in that. Not that Luke didn’t appreciate being a duke. He respected the position and did his utmost to make his father proud. It came naturally. What wasn’t so natural was finding a woman to love him for who he was, not his title.
Though it was rare, both his grandparents and his parents had married into a love match. Having that example made it impossible for Luke not to aspire to a similar relationship. They had each been so happy together. It was the one, or one of the few, truly selfish desires Luke had.
So when he thought of the upcoming masquerade ball and all the guests that would be in attendance, he tried desperately to push his rampaging heart back into its cage. When that worked, more or less, he focused on putting one thought in front of the other.
At the very least, the masquerade would be a pleasurable party and a way to have Grandma Alice’s memory live on. At the most, he might magically find his future wife. So the search was on.
Luke bounded into the kitchen where the emergency was supposed to be happening, according to Chauncey. “What’s the crisis? And how quickly can we solve it? Chauncey said you needed me.”
“Your Grace,” the cook stepped toward him with a curtsy. “No crisis here. Just busy making the Chrstmas pudding with the brandy you prefer. I know how much your guests like it, especially that Duke of Dunbarshire fellow– ahem–His Grace. Don’t know where he packs it away, under that kilt somewhere, but he sure eats his share.”
In the moment, Luke didn’t have the heart to tell her that Egan had declined the Christmas house party invitation this year.
“It’s one of your most acclaimed dishes. We all look forward to it.” Luke glanced around noticing each servant working at a given task, rolling dough, mixing spices, checking the ovens. “Well, seeing as everything is running smoothly, I’ll be off.”
No emergency? I wonder what that was about?It wasn’t like Chauncey to misinterpret a situation, especially a crisis. Perhaps Cook had taken care of it before his arrival. That was the reason to not only hire competent servants, but also to treat them well. The better he treated them, the better they were at their jobs.
Well, since Cook mentioned brandy, that sounded like a good idea. What with all the guests that had arrived at Glass Hall, doubtless there would be someone to share a drink with.
And sure enough, when Luke reached the parlor room, he found Peter, the Duke of Bedford, sharing drinks with William, the Duke of Malton.
“Peter, how many is that?”
Bedford laughed, “Are you my wife? Keeping me accountable?”
“Just assessing how far behind I am,” Luke smiled as he poured two fingers for himself.
