Miss Amelia's Mistletoe Marquess. Jenni Fletcher

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      ‘It’s snowing. Quite heavily, too. If we don’t leave now, then I’m afraid we might become stranded and I wouldn’t want to trespass on your hospitality overnight.’

      ‘No indeed.’ Lady Fentree narrowed her eyes at Millie. ‘I prefer not to share my roof with revolutionaries.’

      ‘But we’ve had a perfectly lovely evening, haven’t we, Millie?’ Alexandra’s grip on her shoulder tightened.

      ‘Yes…thank you.’ Millie rose to her feet and bobbed a dutiful curtsy. ‘Please forgive my bluntness, Lady Fentree. I meant no offence.’

      ‘Mmm.’ The look on the other woman’s face was anything but forgiving. ‘In that case, I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in the country, Miss Fairclough, though I very much doubt that our paths will cross again.’

      Millie gritted her teeth as she followed Alexandra and a few other guests from the village out into the hall. They’d all travelled together to save the need for individual carriages, but now the thought of sitting in a constricted space and reviewing the evening’s entertainment made her want to scream.

      ‘Millie dear…’ Alexandra’s voice was gently chiding.

      ‘I know. I was unforgivably rude.’

      ‘Not without provocation. It might do Lady Fentree good to be reminded that there are other people in the world, but perhaps it was a little tactless to do it under her roof.’

      ‘I’m sorry, Cousin.’

      ‘Never mind.’ Alexandra patted her arm sympathetically. ‘It’ll be forgotten soon enough, but it’s not like you to be so sensitive. Are you feeling all right?’

      ‘Yes… No.’ Millie looked down at the floor in consternation. ‘Not really. I thought Mama might have told you I received an offer of marriage last week.’

      ‘She did mention it, yes…’ Alexandra paused tactfully. ‘From the local Curate—although I understand it’s not a love match.’

      ‘No. It’s not romantic for either of us. Gilbert’s a good man and he says he wants a wife who can work alongside him, but we’re not in love.’

      ‘But you’re thinking of accepting him?’

      ‘I suppose so…yes.’

      Millie drew on her gloves with a sigh. Yes, she was considering it, although considering was as far as she’d got. Practically speaking, it was an advantageous offer. Gilbert was good and intelligent and serious. A little too serious perhaps, pedantic even, and a little over-zealous on occasion, but still…good and surely that was the quality she ought to want most in a husband? Only she couldn’t help but worry that two serious people together might become a little too serious. Which would make her even more boring…

      ‘I believe your mother is afraid you might accept him simply to alleviate her current financial difficulties.’ Alexandra’s gaze was a little too focused.

      ‘Our financial difficulties. Her problems are mine, too.’

      ‘Ye—es, but the last thing she wants is for you to sacrifice yourself to a loveless marriage just for her sake. Or the Foundation’s, for that matter.’

      ‘I know.’ Millie glanced back towards the drawing room. ‘I think she hoped I might meet someone else, but it seems unlikely. All the men here tonight could talk about were the newest inventions and how much money they might make from them.’

      ‘You didn’t give them much of a chance, dear.’

      ‘No, but why would they look at me anyway?’ She bit the inside of her cheek at the words. She hadn’t meant them to sound quite so self-pitying.

      ‘I can think of a lot of reasons, but I think what you need more than anything else at this moment is a rest. You look exhausted.’

      ‘Do I? I don’t feel tired. I usually do much more in a day.’

      ‘I didn’t say tired, I said exhausted. There’s a difference and you, my dear, are the latter. You work far too hard at the Foundation.’

      ‘I don’t mind. It’s too much for Mother to manage on her own.’

      ‘Perhaps, but she wants you to be happy more than she wants your help.’ Alexandra touched her chin gently. ‘Self-sacrifice is all very well, but not if it causes you to make foolish decisions.’

      ‘I’m not…’

      ‘In any case,’ Alexandra spoke over her, ‘you’re staying with me for a fortnight. There’ll be plenty of time to think about the future and make a decision after Christmas. In the meantime, I want you to rest.’

      ‘Yes, Cousin.’

      Millie smiled half-heartedly as they put on their bonnets and capes and went out on to the front steps of the mansion into a world transformed. The moon was full and high, making the sky shimmer with snowflakes that danced and spun like falling stars all around them. It was hardly like night-time at all, Millie thought, catching her breath in wonderment. It was beautiful, as if a white cloak had been draped over the landscape. Even the air tasted different. Crisp and clean, utterly unlike that of London.

      ‘Here we are.’ Alexandra put an arm around her shoulders as three carriages rolled alongside the front steps. ‘You go ahead with the others. I’ll wait for your mother.’

      ‘No, you go.’ Millie looked at her pleadingly. ‘If you don’t mind, I don’t think I can bear any more conversation tonight. I’ll wait for Mama.’

      ‘Are you certain?’

      ‘Yes…’ she smiled ruefully ‘…and I promise to go straight to bed when I get back.’

      ‘All right. If that’s what you want, then I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, dear.’

      Millie waved goodbye, waiting until the first two carriages had rattled away before turning back into the house. Her mother had made it as far as the hallway, though she seemed in no hurry to leave, still engrossed in conversation with the handsome gentleman. Something about the way they were standing made her avert her face again quickly, too, struck with the distinct impression that she was interrupting something private.

      She looked up at the falling snow again, wondering what to do next. She could climb into the last carriage, she supposed, but she didn’t want to shut herself up inside just yet, not when the world looked so breathtaking. And surely a quick stroll through the gardens wouldn’t hurt?

      She threw a swift glance over her shoulder and then hurried down the mansion steps, over the gravel drive and across the lawn. It was positively luminescent, she thought delightedly, the snow beneath her feet making soft crumpling sounds as she wandered into a small grove where a line of willow trees obscured any view of the house. It was like a fairy-tale grotto, secret and silent and peaceful, the trees all bedecked with sparkling crystalline pendants. A memory popped into her mind, of throwing snowballs in the park with Silas and Lottie as children. They’d charged around like hoydens while their parents had watched arm in arm from the path. It was a happy memory, but bittersweet, СКАЧАТЬ