Page 114 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

A terrible upset by all accounts. One that had been gleefully gossiped about amongst thebeau mondefor quite some time.

It seemed rather strange to Holly that the earl should be here now. Given the distance from his seat in Scotland and the condition of the roads at this time of year.

Still, it was no matter. She was sure that Grandmama had her reasons for inviting him, just as Lord Stockton must have his reasons for accepting.

Another movement caught Holly’s attention, pulling it from Lord Stockton, on whom she’d been concentrating far more than she should.

A carriage was coming up the gravel drive. A carriage she didn’t recognise.

As far as Holly knew, they weren’t expecting any more guests.

Holly glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantle.

She knew that Grandmama would still be abed.

That meant she would have to be the one to greet their mystery guest.

Heaving a sigh of frustration, she rushed to the door of her bedchamber.

Her rooms were her sanctuary. Somewhere she could go and be sad, remember Mama, and not have to put a brave or happy face on for the guests she hadn’t particularly wanted in the first place.

But Mama had instilled in Holly good manners and politeness. And the need to be kind, always.

And so, she descended the stairs, shaking out her champagne-coloured skirts, patting her red-gold curls to ensure she looked halfway presentable, and entered the drawing room to await her guest.

It was uncommonly early for someone to arrive, but nonetheless Holly was determined to be a good hostess.

She sat on the chaise and waited for the butler to announce whoever was here.

However, when the door opened, it wasn’t Carstairs with his silver tray holding a calling card, but rather an old lady whom Holly had never set eyes on before.

Holly jumped to her feet, searching behind the woman for the butler, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Looking back at the lady, who didn’t seem at all perturbed by the lack of servants, Holly was at a complete loss of what to say.

The lady was tiny, bedecked in a black carriage dress and bonnet, both of which had seen better days.

Her hair sprung out from under her bonnet in wild, shocking white curls, and her astonishingly green eyes ran speculatively over Holly.

She nodded as though pleased with what she saw then took a seat without being invited to.

Holly could only gape.

Who on earth was she? And how did she get past the butler?

“Do sit down, dear.”

The lady spoke as though it was Holly who had shown up unannounced and such was her shock, that she did the lady’s bidding.

“Yes, you’ll do nicely.” She smiled, her green eyes sparkling.

“I-I beg your pardon?”

“Never mind.”

There was a strained silence whilst Holly tried to get her head around this rather bizarre turn of events with an even more bizarre old lady.

“Ah –“ She drew to a halt.

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