Page 227 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

“He’s not well,” Prince Sebastian said. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Ashford. I know this was a bit sudden.”

She waved one hand. “We’re happy to be of assistance, your highness. Please, tell me what happened.”

As Sebastian told her sister about rescuing Theo, Eliana moved to the sideboard. Hands shaking only a little, she poured out a measure of brandy and carried it over to Mrs. Pare.

“Come, love,” the governess said, lifting Theo’s head and coaxing him to take a sip. A bit of the liquid dribbled down from the corner of his mouth.

Eliana held her breath, hoping.

The boy swallowed, then coughed, his eyes flying open. He looked blearily around the parlor, then his gaze fixed on the sparkling tree.

“Did I die?” he asked in a weak voice. “Is this heaven?”

“No, my dear—you’re alive, and in the Duke of Ashford’s parlor,” Mrs. Pare said, gathering him close.

Tears stung the corners of Eliana’s eyes. Thank heavens. The angels had heard her prayers.

The doctor bustled in, followed by Hetty and the Duke of Ashford. After a brief commotion as their hosts took charge, Eliana found herself installed in an armchair by the tree, a cashmere lap robe draped over her knees.

Prince Sebastian sat across from her, his sleeves and waistcoat mottled with moisture. She realized they’d left his greatcoat and muffler at the edge of Serpentine.

Hetty joined Mrs. Pare on the settee, giving her comfort as the doctor knelt before Theo, making his diagnosis. The duke and duchess stood together, and Eliana noticed her sister’s gaze resting thoughtfully on the prince.

“The boy will be all right,” the doctor pronounced at last. “He needs to rest, and be kept warm, but already his color is better. I believe he will make a full recovery.”

His governess let out a cry of relief, and Eliana sagged back into her chair.

Sebastian gave her a faint smile. “Well done, Eliana.”

“We all did our part,” she said.

“You risked the most,” he said seriously. “I admire you a great deal for your quick actions and bravery.”

Flustered, she turned her head to look at the Christmas tree. Now that she’d gathered her wits, she did not want Sebastian’s admiration. And she most especially didn’t want the warmth that his words brought.

“Prince Sebastian,” Selene said, coming to stand beside Eliana. “Forgive my curiosity, but why is your hair dyed black?”

His mouth twisted. “A poor attempt at a disguise, I’m afraid.”

Selene blinked at him. “In order to pay a call upon my sister?”

“Oh, heavens.” Eliana grabbed her sister’s skirt and gave it a warning tug. “Prince Sebastian is not courting me, so banish that notion from your mind.”

Selene’s eyebrows climbed.

“Even if I were,” the prince said, “I fear Miss Eliana would not have me.”

“That is correct,” Eliana said. For some reason, her throat was tight. “I have excellent reasons for it, and for insisting you never call upon me again.”

Sebastian’s eyes darkened, and he gave a short nod.

“But—” Selene began.

“Shall we offer our guests some mulled wine?” the duke broke in.

“Of course.” Selene shot Eliana a look that promised they would speak more on the subject. “Mulled wine is just the thing, and I had the kitchens prepare some right away. In fact, I think the footman is bringing it in now.”

The air in the parlor filled with the scent of cloves and cinnamon as the man brought around a silver-chased tray bearing glasses of wine. Everyone took one, even the doctor, and Mrs. Pare shared hers with Theo, one arm wrapped about his shoulders.

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