He shot another ball into the pot, and Henry swore loudly, pulling him out of his rather melancholy thoughts. Nicholas grinned.
“Another game?”
“Absolutely not,” Henry muttered, and Nicholas chuckled, slapping him heartily on the shoulder as they returned to the drawing room to reconnect with the ladies.
As they entered the opulent room, his aunt was standing beside the large window, addressing the company. She looked very well in her ochre satin gown. Nicholas always marvelled at how young and virile she looked, even in her later years. Perhaps it was due to all the parties she arranged—she did love being a hostess.
Many of the guests had now departed after dinner, and the select group who would be staying for the whole of Christmas remained. The majority were made up of the Crompton family, the Kingston’s and Henry. Two other ladies were present—a Lady Bartholemew and a Lady Garriton who were particularfriends of his aunt’s. He was pleased the party was not larger.
Nicholas noticed Miss Crompton sitting beside Rosemary to the side of the main settee, watching his aunt, her gown flowing down over her feet, her hands placed in her lap.
She was so very proper. Nicholas had promised himself he would never fall for another woman like that again.
“I propose a game of charades!” his aunt was saying. Miss Crompton’s cousin was positively bouncing with excitement. Nicholas could not help but smile at her. Rosemary had told him this was her first house party, and she was positively enthused by everything. Henry, on the other hand, would have paid good money not to play charades.
He held back a groan. Perhaps he could persuade Henry to sneak out the back with him and they could have that glass of port instead.
“Ah, Lord Bolton,” his aunt said loudly, “will you not join Miss Crompton? Everyone else has paired up.”
On the other hand, haven’t I always loved charades?
Nicholas walked eagerly across the room, taking a seat beside her. She glanced at him briefly with a gentle nod of her head, but nothing more. He attempted to flash his best smile her way, but it was wasted as she was no longer looking at him.
“I was hoping to be on Clarissa’s team,” came a quiet voice from nearby as Emily was tugged, with a good deal of force, to sit with Lady Crompton.
Nicholas could imagine how intimidating a setting such as this could be for a girl not yet out in society, and he leaned forward in his chair to speak with her.
“But just think Miss Emily, now you can beat Miss Crompton instead,” he said, throwing a smile the girl’s way. Suddenly her round face transformed into a wicked grin, and she sat up a little straighter.
“There we are, Clary; maybe I shall finally beat you,” she saidwith good-humoured affection.
“Emily, I have no doubt you will. You are an expert at charades,” Clarissa said, a bright light coming into her eyes as she addressed her cousin.
Nicholas was treated to a view of who she might become when she was in less formal company. He was surprised by the force with which he wished to see that transformation.
The game began and there was much laughter and name calling as everyone tried to guess the answer to the riddle that had been read out. Lord Crompton was silent for almost the entirety of the first players turn, but when he did speak he got the answer on his first try. Nicholas could see a ghost of his daughter in his contemplative mannerism. He was starting to like Lord Crompton a great deal.
Soon, it was his turn to stand up in front of them all. He made a show of it, allowing the mask of the clown to fall into place. If people laughed with you they did not mock you. He had learned that many years before. The part of the fool was easy to play. It was always easier to pretend.
He turned to Miss Crompton, who was watching him avidly as he prepared to read out the riddle. She would have the first guess as his teammate. When she concentrated, there was a small line between her brows, and she bit her lip, leaning forward a little in her chair. Nicholas found that he was desperate to win.
Without further ado, he began his riddle:
“My first is much used for the making of holes,
But internally takes the joy of good souls;
My next, like the earth round its centre, revolves,
When impelled on the green, on our pleasure resolves;
My whole is most pleasing well filled with my first;
To the toper, whose wailings are always of thirst.”
There were many murmurings, and multiple heads leanedtogether, but Nicholas only had eyes for his partner. She had her head down, and her brow was furrowed. Even while she concentrated, she looked remarkable. He found his eyes moving over her hair, looking at the white flowers placed in its design. He found his eyes moving over the elegant line of her neck.
“Something to do with golf?” Henry asked from the back, and Nicholas shook his head.
