Page 8 of A Storme's First Noelle

Chapter Four

December 23, 1818

Noelle was stillbemused about that kiss the following day. The hope and wonder and attraction from that fleeting embrace had the power to send tingles down her spine as well as send butterflies dancing through her belly. Like it had been with her deceased fiancé, it felt marvelously right in Trey’s embrace.

To that end, it mattered not that he had lost an arm. His charm and his tendency toward joking—when he let himself—wrapped around her when she was in his company, and she wanted more of it. She wished to discover everything she could about the man in a more intimate way than she’d had in hurried meetings or impersonal society functions where she’d not been given much access to him.

“You seem deep in thought.”

She jerked her head up from contemplating the contents of her teacup as her father entered the small breakfast room. As always, he was the epitome of a country gentleman in a tweed jacket, brown trousers, recently polished brown boots, and his thinning blond hair combed into a popular style. “I suppose I am.” Once he’d taken a seat across the round table from her with a folded copy ofThe Times, she sighed. “Before you ask, it’s a man who’s on my mind.” Her father had a knack of ferreting out her secrets, so it was best to tell him upfront.

“That’s good news indeed.” He grinned at her then nodded at their butler Harper when he brought over a plate loaded with typical breakfast fare. “For far too long you’ve nursed a broken heart. I’m glad to see you wishing to live again.”

Heat jumped into her cheeks. “I’m eight and twenty. Hardly a relic who’s been pining away.” Yes, she’d spent nearly four years mourning the loss of the man she would have married, but that hadn’t been excessive. Besides, the choices of men in and around the Cambridgeshire area left much to be desired, for war had taken a large swatch of them.

“True, so tell me who has captured your attention after so long.” He held his teacup up and watched her over the rim while amusement danced in his blue eyes. Even the butler looked on with interest, for this was quite the aberration from her usual life.

“You already know him, actually.” Noelle couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice. “He’s the Earl of Worchester’s second son—Captain Marsden.” Merely saying his name aloud sent shivery sensation down her spine.

“Oh? How interesting. He’s the fellow who lost an arm in the war. Correct?”

“Yes, but before you say anything, it doesn’t detract from who he is.”

“Of course it doesn’t, and any woman worth her salt wouldn’t let that bother her.” For long moments, her father made inroads into his breakfast before speaking again. “When did the two of you meet?”

She smiled. “Over sheep.” With a giggle, she continued. “He was returning to Worchester Park at the same time I was heading to the village. A flock of sheep blocked the road. We fell into conversation, and then since he couldn’t attain his destination, he drove me to mine.” Wisely, she didn’t tell her father about the kiss she and Trey had shared yesterday, for that was something she wished to keep close to her heart as her own treasure.

“I’ve not seen you so animated as you are now in a long while.” He brushed a few crumbs from his cravat and then took a sip of his tea. “How many times have you met with him?”

“Twice now, but not for any length. Nor have we had a proper conversation.” Perhaps that connection she’d felt had only been a figment of her imagination. When he elevated an eyebrow, she rushed to continue. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I think there might be something between us I’d like to explore. That is, if you don’t mind.”

Surprise lined her father’s face. “Why would I?”

“He’s much higher in society than I am, and we would hardly move in the same circles, for he’s a part of theton.”

“What does that matter?” Her father snorted. “Happiness and romance are difficult to come by in this life, and you’ve certainly had your fair share of heartbreak.” He set his teacup into its saucer. “Rank and position are only barriers if one wishes them to be. Pursue the man and see what happens.”

“Won’t that make me seem fast?” Already, she’d let it slip to Trey that she’d like to do more with him than kiss. Would this give him the wrong impression?

A chuckle escaped her father. “Heavens, no. It merely shows you’re quite interested and don’t wish to wait around for him to make up his mind to chase you.” His grin allayed some of her anxiety. “Your mother would have told you the same.”

“No doubt she would have.” Her mother had always been the one to suggest changes around the house or how her father could enhance his business dealings. She wasn’t one to boss or manage, but she’d gently guided the people close to her in the right direction. And always she’d believed in going after one’s dreams. “Mama would have liked Captain Marsden—Trey. They both share a great sense of humor.”

“Then I believe you have your answer.”

“Perhaps.” Noelle smiled. “We don’t know each other well.” Yet they’d already shared a kiss. That had to mean something.

“In the grand scheme of life, that’s a pedestrian worry. There is plenty of time for all of that.” He patted her hand. “If you feel he has potential and that you’d suit, don’t wait. From the talk I’ve overheard, once Twelfth Night is over, the Marsdens will return to London and your chance will be lost.” As he speared a forkful of eggs, he quirked an eyebrow. “Besides, doesn’t every woman long for a romance during Christmastide?”

Noelle uttered a rather unladylike snort. “Don’t be silly, Papa. Romance is romance no matter what time of the year.”

But in her heart of hearts, she’d always thought falling in love under a sprig of mistletoe the height of swoon-worthy.

He shook his head. “Your mother adored this time of year, as you can guess from your name. Don’t discount the magic that might be lurking during this season.” Then he fell to devouring his breakfast as if he hadn’t eaten for days. Once he lifted his newspaper, the time for conversation had concluded.

With a tiny sigh, she returned to pushing her own breakfast about her plate with her fork, and once more her thoughts centered upon Trey and whether he’d still look dashing in his military uniform.

*

---