Tea was about to be served, and as they entered the room, servants bustled about, placing trays amidst the party.
Nicholas’s eyes were immediately drawn to Miss Crompton and her cousin standing at the window with Rosemary. He felt the same swell in his chest at the sight of her.
Despite his confusing feelings in her presence, he found his feet moving toward them involuntarily.
He had relished their time playing charades together and found himself eager to recapture the feeling. Their acquaintance had been fleeting, yet it left a lasting impression. He took satisfaction in a particular notion: that he had been able to coax more smiles from her than she might have typically expressed. It pleased him to think their chance encounter had brightened her demeanour, if only briefly.
“And how did the creative exploits of the morningprogress?” he asked his sister as he stopped beside them.
Rosemary’s eyes twinkled as he joined their group.
“Tolerably well,” Rosemary said with a sigh. “Miss Emily has made a beautiful garland which I rather think Aunt Eleanor will place above the mantel in this very room.”
“Oh Lord,” Emily said with her usual smile. “It will probably fall apart the moment it is hung.”
“And, of course, Miss Crompton has always been far superior to me in her creativity,” Rosemary said with a put-upon sigh. His sister was an excellent musician, but artistry had never been her strong suit.
He turned to Clarissa to gauge her reaction, only to feel dismayed as her eyes quickly flicked away from his, her cheeks colouring a little. She focused on Rosemary and gave her a faint smile.
“You do yourself a disservice, Miss Kingston,” she insisted. “Your bough is very pretty.”
She stiffened as he took another step into their circle; all the easiness of the evening before had disappeared as though it had never been. Her eyes flitted about the room, as though searching for an escape.
“And what were you making?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual while observing Miss Crompton from the corner of his eye.
“We were making kissing boughs!” Emily answered very readily, oblivious to the tension that had sprung up between them.
Nicholas looked at Miss Crompton and watched, fascinated, as her blush deepened even further. His body was instantly flooded with a heat of a different nature, and his heart beat wildly in his chest.
“Lord Bolton, you are the most fiendish of men not to tell me of your sister’s talents at decoration,” came Lady Wilde’s voicefrom just behind him as she pushed her way into the group. “I was quite outdone at the table.”
Nicholas chanced a quick glance at his sister. Rosemary had barely refrained from rolling her eyes at Lady Wilde’s arrival. He felt his own bolt of irritation at the interruption. She was very close to him, their elbows brushing as though on accident, but he was too well-versed in this dance to believe it. Nothing of what she did would be an accident.
He forced a smile, feeling the falseness of it now. With Miss Crompton, his smiles came very easily, but now he felt the mask of the rake slip back into place.
“And did you also make a bough, Lady Wilde?” he asked.
“Indeed, I am embarrassed by my own efforts,” Lady Wilde protested.
“My aunt has already said she will hang yours in the foyer,” Rosemary said with barely disguised annoyance.
“Lady Wilde, such praise from my aunt is exceedingly rare. You must show it to me before we go to supper this evening,” he said automatically, keeping his charming façade firmly in place.
Madeline’s arrival appeared to have made Miss Crompton even more uncomfortable. Nicholas felt an overwhelming feeling of protectiveness for her. He wanted to fix her sad expression and see her easy laugh again.
He gave Lady Wilde a tight smile as she continued to expand on the subject of the kissing boughs for many minutes. Miss Emily was the only person in their group who readily answered her.
As the bell rang for dinner, Nicholas was herded to the other side of the room to look at Lady Wilde’s creation. To him, it was just a bundle of foliage with no artistic value.
“It is very pretty,” he said quickly, wishing to be away from her, but the lady gave a coy smile.
“You flatter me, my Lord, but I thank you for your kindwords. I was wondering whether you might join us to make one yourself.”
Nicholas smiled. “I would not wish to attempt to emulate your talents, Lady Wilde. I imagine it would resemble something a cat had tangled together inexpertly. I would ruin the entire household aesthetic.”
She gave a high, piercing laugh that Nicholas did his best not to wince at. He was grateful to be able to excuse himself as he headed to his room to dress for dinner.
As he ascended the stairs, he was already considering what he might wear. He had paid little attention to his clothes in the last few days in his aunt’s house, yet now he was eager to look his best.
