Page 15 of Snowbound with the Earl
“And who will be on your team?”
“Oh, I begged Eva for Mr. Rummage. He was on the winning team last year.”
“Perhaps I should have attempted to influence Eva myself.”
“No need,” Swinton said. “She’ll have put you with Jersey and Turlington. One seeks a wife and one a lover. You have your choice.”
Swinton was correct. She was paired with the viscount and the rake. She enjoyed the company of both men, but if Eva was playing at matchmaking, she would be disappointed. And Evawasplaying at matchmaking, despite all her vows to the contrary. She’d put Graham with Miss Halifax and Miss Rummage. Noelle couldn’t even fault her friend. If she were choosing a match for Graham, the shy Miss Halifax or the bookish Miss Rummage would be her choices too.
Swinton hadn’t been wrong about Mr. Rummage’s abilities either. The Swinton-Rummage-Redmond team won Best Snowman. Lord Dorsey’s team, composed of Mrs. Edmonton and Mrs. Rummage had placed second. Eva had been the judge, of course, and Turlington accused her of favoritism. His snowman was far superior to Dorsey’s. Eva had simply laughed and said, “But of course!”
On the way back inside, Noelle walked with Lord Dorsey. “What do you think of this snow?” she asked. All throughout the morning, the snow had continued to fall at a steady pace.
“Very festive,” Dorsey said. “But not enough to cause any problems. I’m sure it will stop before the twenty-third.”
“And if I wish to leave before that?” she said.
Dorsey cut his eyes to her. “Eva will be disappointed.”
Noelle glanced at Graham who was again walking with Miss Halifax’s arm in his. “I will make it up to her.”
Dorsey followed her gaze. “I see. Then I will say I think the snow has been steady but only a few inches have fallen. I don’t foresee any obstacle to your early departure.”
“Good. Don’t say anything to Eva yet. I plan to make my decision in the morning.”
“As you wish,” Dorsey said.
In the end, it did not take but a few more hours for her to determine she would leave at the first possible opportunity. First light, if that was feasible. Dinner had been an absolute disaster, though only she had seemed to recognize it. Once again, she’d been seated across from Evergreen. While she tried to keep up her end of the conversation with Mr. Turlington and Lord Foster, she couldn’t help noticing how much attention Graham gave to Miss Halifax. She also couldn’t help but observe the smug looks Mr. Halifax sent his wife. Clearly, they thought a proposal was imminent.
If indeed Evergreen did propose to Miss Halifax, Noelle did not want to witness it. She wanted to be far away, at Fairborne, with her parents. Christmas with her parents was its own sort of torture, but it was nothing compared to seeing Graham ask another woman to marry him. Claiming a headache, she bowed out of the card games planned for after dinner and went to her room. Turlington, the rake, offered to escort her, but she declined the invitation and went by herself. Once in her private chamber, she splashed her face with water. “You willnotcry,” she told herself in the mirror. “You have cried enough.”
Indeed, Lord Bonneville once told her if she wouldn’t stop crying, he would give her something to cry about. No doubt, after two months of marriage, he had tired of her constant weeping. He’d probably expected some tears when he’d taken her virginity, but he hadn’t anticipated she would cry every time he visited her bed chamber. Or every evening when they dined together. Or when he stumbled upon her in the parlor or the drawing room or the stables. Noelle hadn’t heeded his warning, and he had found ways to make her more miserable than she’d already been—a slap across the face, a few hours locked in the wine cellar, declining her parents’ invitation to join them in Town. Noelle had learned to choke back the tears, and after ten years, she was very good at it.
She sniffed and took a breath just as Swift entered. “My lady, the housekeeper said you had a megrim.”
“Oh, I’m fine, Swift, but I want to pack.”
“Are we leaving, my lady?”
“First thing tomorrow, yes. Will you fetch the luggage and help me?”
“Yes, my lady.” Swift gave Noelle a troubled look but hurried to carry out her wishes. Noelle straightened her spine, pushed back her shoulders, and opened the wardrobe.
***
GRAHAM HAD RISEN EARLY. He always rose early. He was unable to sleep past six, which was rather annoying when he’d been up late the night before. He was the fourth in a card game that lasted until midnight. He might have wished to go to bed, but he’d been playing with Miss Edmonton and Miss Halifax and Lord Foster. Foster seemed somewhat taken with Miss Edmonton, and Graham hated to cut short Foster’s time with the lady. Unfortunately, Graham’s card play had been awful, leaving his partner, Miss Halifax, to try and compensate.
Graham hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Lady Bonneville. She’d gone up to her chambers early, claiming a headache. Now, he sat in Lady Dorsey’s private parlor adjacent to the drawing room and tried to read. He hadn’t turned a single page because his thoughts returned to Lady Bonneville. Perhaps he should walk over to the library and see if she was reading in her window box. He could inquire as to whether her head felt better and then retreat to the parlor. He closed his book and started to rise when the door opened, and Miss Halifax stepped inside. Graham stood, removing his spectacles as he did so. “Good morning, Miss—what is it?”
She held a silk handkerchief to her red nose and tears streamed down her face. Her shoulders shook with the violence of her sobs. Graham placed his spectacles in his waistcoat and took a step toward her. “Are you injured?”
She shook her head and closed her eyes, leaving tears trembling on her lashes.
“Shall I fetch your mother? Here. Sit on the couch, and I will return in a moment.” He guided her toward the couch, but before he could cross to the door, it flew open, and Mr. Halifax stood in the doorway. “Ah, good. Halifax—”
“What the devil have you done to her?” Halifax demanded. Dorsey came into view behind Halifax, and Graham could imagine the sight he observed over Halifax’s shoulder. Miss Halifax was seated on the couch, weeping into her handkerchief.
“I’ve done nothing,” Graham said, anger beginning to burn in his chest. “She was weeping when she entered the parlor. She hasn’t been here more than two minutes. I was about to fetch Mrs. Halifax—”
