Page 23 of A Wallflower's Wassail Punch
“If it makes you feel any better, I taught my daughter with a rope.Tied one to both ends of a patch of ice, so she was able to hold on and find her balance.”Andrew shrugged.“Sorry, I don’t have one with me.”
“My pride wouldn’t let me anyway.”He tried again as Andrew strapped on his skates.Once the man had two feet on the slippery service, he grinned.“I think I’ve got iiiiiit.”Splat.
The tall man was all scattered limbs.He leaned forward and brought his knees to his chest, hands on either side to boost himself up.It didn’t go well.Andrew took pity on him.“Deuce if that didn’t hurt me just watching it.”Andrew laughed as he went to help Hawkesbury.“Don’t try it on your own until you’re steadier.Trust me, it will only make it worse.”
Mr.Fitzjames stepped around his friend and onto the ice, made a perfect circle, then skated backwards, waving.“Guess I’ll win this one, Hawk,” he taunted.Then he turned around and slammed right into Lord Page.Both men went sprawling in opposite directions on their bums.Fitzjames rubbed his elbow while Page poked gingerly at the back of his head.
In the center of the ice stood Lady Annette with her gloved hands covering her mouth.A giggle erupted from her throat which turned into a laugh, then a guffaw.She hugged her stomach, peeked up at the three men lying on the frozen pond, and straightened, wiping her eyes with her gloved hands.
“Well, Lord Weston, you appear to be”—more giggles—“the last man standing.”
“It seems fate is plotting to pair us up,” he called back.
She placed her hands on her hips, pushing away the claret fur-lined cloak, and smiled at him.The sweetest gut punch he’d ever received.Her shining dark tresses, only partially pulled back under her matching deep-red hat, tumbled against her shoulders and framed her creamy skin.Pink tinged her cheeks and lips from the cold.Desire rumbled through him, and he cursed himself for wanting something he shouldn’t have.Andrew made his way to her slowly, deliberately, vowing not to follow the path of the other poor wretches freezing their backsides.When he reached her, she held out a hand to him.
What if he grasped it and never let go?Stop!Why did he have such feelings for someone he’d only known a few days?Yet, he’d known with Aggie at their introduction.Thoughts of her hit him like a sledgehammer of guilt.What would she think of Lady Annette’s age?What would his daughter think?
The lady in question gripped his fingers and pulled him closer.The scent of jasmine tickled his nose; warmth seeped through their gloves.Thoughts of Agnes and Phoebe disappeared.He would enjoy the moment.
“You cretins let an old codger best you,” yelled Beecham from one of two carriages on the hill overlooking the ice.He waved a flask through the window.“I raised you better than that, Lucius.No resting on your laurels today!”
“A point for the viscount,” cried Lady Henney.“Show them how it’s done, Weston!”
Andrew was shocked to see the woman also held a flask in her hand.The pair loved life, and he doubted they would ever have a dull moment in their future “dotage.”Ha!
“What do you think your stepmother has in her flask?”he asked, pleased that they, too, crossed their legs in unison as they took the curve at the end.“She’s quite a conundrum, isn’t she?”
“It’s spiced wine, essential for every outdoor winter event.”Lady Annette waved back at them, her emerald eyes sparkling.“Lady Henney decided to live life to the fullest when her husband died, and she’s taking my father along for the ride.Have you ever seen a couple happier?”
Not in many years,he thought.“Was she bereft when he passed?”
“Not at all.He was a terrible man, beat her soundly or ignored her altogether.She says his death was the best thing that ever happened to her.”Lady Annette raised a brow and waited for his reaction.
“I’m surprised she wants to try again, then.”Andrew looked back at the carriage, seeing the viscountess in a new light.He’d been acquainted with her husband and never would have guessed the man was such a blaggard.
“Oh, it took years.And then she and my father stumbled upon each other at Hyde Park.He asked her to walk with him and… Well, they’ve been courting ever since.”Lady Annette sighed.“She says Papa is the kindest man she’s ever known.I only wish they’d met earlier.”
Perhaps a change of subject was in order.“What do you want?In a man, in a husband?Excitement or stability?”
“Both,” she answered without hesitation.“I know it’s impossible.But you asked what I wanted, not what I’d be content with.”
“Why?Two fine gentlemen fell head over heels for you just a few moments ago.”He reached over and squeezed her hand.“I think you should reach for the stars.”
Lady Annette sighed.“I lost sight of those during my second Season.But you are right about the eligible men here today.One in particular has caught my eye.”
“Who—”
“My lady, would you care to dance,” interrupted Mr.Fitzjames, who had regained his feet.He held out his arm, oblivious to his wild blond curls sticking in every direction.He was a stocky man, built more like a pugilist.Why were his frosty blue eyes lingering on her lips?Did he not remember the earlier warning?
“I’d love to, Mr.Fitzjames, but I’m afraid a cotillion is out of the question.”
“I agree,” he said as he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her away from Andrew.“A waltz would be much better.”
Andrew watched as the gentleman skated away with Lady Annette, moving her in graceful circles while she hummed a tune.Blast!He’d have to watch that one closely.
“A point for Fitzjames,” called out Lady Henney.“Come join us, Weston.”
Not an awful idea.He glided to the edge of the ice, nodding to Hawkesbury, now leaning against a tree.“Not up for another try?”
