Page 13 of The Scoundrel's Christmas Challenge
Christiana stretched and yawned. For the first time in years, she had slept through the night. As a child, her mother had always commented how she slept so soundly, nothing but the house on fire could wake her. But after her wedding, sleep had evaded her. Most nights, she woke and sat by the fire. Reading a nice dull text sometimes helped to make her lids heavy once again. Other times, Constance would hear her and bring some warm milk.
This morning, she threw back the counterpane, her toes scrunched on the plush wool rug as she slid off the mattress. The sun was just peeking through the slit in the drapes, and she pulled them back, enjoying the pinks and purples melting together on the horizon.
“You’re bright as a ray of sunshine this morning,” said Constance, coming from the small connecting room where she slept. “Did you sleep well? I was afraid after meeting with Lord Page, you might be even more restless.”
She shook her head. “I feel like I could conquer the world. I cannot remember the last time I was this refreshed.” Christiana whirled to face her maid, her long waves trailing around her. “A new day. What surprises await us, do you think?”
Her maid laughed. “I like this new mistress of mine. Is this what you were like when you were a girl?”
Christiana considered, her lips in a pout. “If I remember correctly, yes.” Then she beamed at Constance. “I believe this may be my last party. I shall achieve my goal and leave the past where it belongs—in the past.”
“Very fine advice, my lady. Now, drink your chocolate before it gets cold while l brush your hair.”
As she sipped her sweet drink, her body humming to life, she went over her time spent with Lucius in the kitchen. She had missed him. His face was like a shining beacon of happiness, reminding her there was still joy in the world. When she woke this morning, the heaviness blanketing her, a constant companion, was lighter, easing its weight upon her shoulders. Did she have Lucius to thank for that? The next few days would tell.
***
Late afternoon after attending church, Lord and Lady Elwood arrived with two trunks. “We’ve accepted your generous offer to stay, my dear,” called the viscountess from the steps of the carriage. She pulled her fur-lined cloak together with one hand and extended the other to her husband, who waited on the ground to assist her. The feather on her hat bobbed up and down as she descended. “I’ve been at sixes and sevens wondering what the challenge would be today.”
The butler ordered the footmen to retrieve the luggage, and he showed the couple to their shared room. When they returned to the drawing room, Christiana was serving tea. “Lady Winfield,” asked Lord Elwood, “my wife and I were discussing this… unusual venture last night. We wondered if I was the only one to participate, or if my wife could take my place on occasion?” His dark-brown eyes held hope while he rubbed the back of his neck. “Act as one, in a sense.”
She studied his round, ruddy face, then nodded. “I will allow it.”
The viscountess clapped her hands. “Lud, this will be entertaining. What is on for today?”
“First, we light the Yule log.” She took the tinder box from the mantel. Kindling had been arranged under and on top of the huge log. The smoky scent soon blended with the aroma of pine and rosemary.
As the flames licked at the thin sticks and branches, she turned back to her guests. “Since it is Christmas, we will play parlor games. A game of whist between four, then one game for the winning partners to decide who will gain a point for the day.”
“Shall we put a bit of coin on the game to make it more interesting?” asked Lord Frederick in a bored tone.
“Because this entire scheme isn’t remarkable enough?” asked Lord Page.
Christiana had almost forgotten his dry wit. Lucius had dressed in a festive red-and-black pinstripe waistcoat with black trousers and a black coat. His brown hair was combed back, the light from the windows highlighting the golden streaks. Her heart skipped a beat when he stared at her unapologetically, a corner of his mouth kicked up a tiny bit in an almost-smirk.
Lord Frederick rolled his eyes, and Lord Bentson rubbed his hands together, his faded hazel eyes coming to life. “It’s been awhile, but I was quite the man at the table when I was younger. Would you care to partner with me, Lady Winfield?”
She hid her grin when the older man’s suggestion caused Lucius and Lord Frederick to gawk at one another in horror. “I will sit this one out, my lord, so we have an even number.”
The elderly man turned to the Elwoods. “Who is the chosen player between the two of you?”
“I am,” said Lady Elwood. “He’s never had much luck with cards.”
“Then will you do me the honor of being my partner?” he asked, wiggling his thick gray brows.
“I’d be delighted.”
“Bollocks,” muttered Lord Frederick, rubbing his paunch as if he’d had a bit of spoiled beef.
“As much as I’d like to win, I want him to lose more,” Lucius whispered in her ear as he passed her on his way to the table. “Unless you tell me otherwise.”
She pressed her lips together, not allowing the sigh to escape from the warmth of his breath against her neck. “Best out of three?” she asked the group instead.
The guests murmured and nodded in agreement. Cups of wassail were passed around while Christiana and Lord Elwood pulled up chairs to sit near the players. At one point, as Lucius decided which card to start the round with, Lord Frederick kicked his partner under the table, followed by a wide-eyed look across the pile of cards.
“Was that a spasm, you imbecile, or did you mean to kick me?” asked Lucius, the incredulous expression on his face almost comical. “And what’s wrong with your eyes? Are you in pain? Constipated?”
This sent Lady Elwood into a fit of giggles, Lord Bentson chuckled and slapped his knee, and Lord Frederick’s face was so red, Christiana was sure steam would erupt from the top of his head.
