LITMIR.BIZ

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now have more than enough to purchase their own beef with which to celebrate.

       Please do not linger too long in the north. Your presence there has already been remarked upon by your uncle and heaven knows who else.

      There was no loving postscript to close the chiding missive and Gregor folded it in half, running his fingers over the crease, wanting to rip the thing to shreds. Instead, he must answer it at once and send separate instructions to his steward about distributing the beef as originally intended. The order would not reach Marbrook Manor before the day was out and he could well imagine the disappointment of many tenant families when their tables were much lighter for their feasts this year, but he would see to it they had something for Boxing Day. He’d even instruct the housekeeper to put together gifts for them in order to make amends for his mother’s meanness at such a generous time of year.

      ‘A hearty greeting to you on this merriest of mornings.’ Lily’s beautiful voice broke through the cloud of Gregor’s ire.

      A deep red dress of velvet trimmed with blue ribbon wavered around her legs as she approached from the other end of the hallway. The bright fabric set off the whiteness of her neck and the delicate décolletage just visible beneath her snow-white fichu. For a brief moment Gregor forgot the letter and everything but the memory of her lips against his last night.

      ‘Good morning, my queen.’ He dropped into a bow, noting the slight furrow of her brow as he rose.

      ‘What’s wrong?’

      ‘I’ve received tidings from my mother and they aren’t of great joy. I’m afraid I must remain behind from church to see to it my tenants receive the good wishes intended for them, the ones my mother is thoughtlessly denying them.’ He didn’t mention the rest of the missive, or the aspersions his mother threw on Lily’s family. The reminder of every cold and lonely holiday he’d ever known at home was already dimming the warmth of last night and the cheerfulness of the day.

      ‘But you’ll be here when we return and you’ll attend the ball?’

      Her eagerness to be with him brought back a measure of the happiness with which he’d first greeted the morning. ‘Most definitely.’

      ‘Then I’ll leave you to your work and see you very soon.’

      He peered up one side of the hall and down the other to make sure no one was about. Then he took her hand and raised it to his mouth. He pressed his lips against her soft flesh, rubbing one finger against her palm and enjoying the shiver it sent racing through her to make her skin pebble against his. What he wouldn’t give to draw her into his room, close the door and forget his problems with her in the deepest of embraces. He couldn’t, and with his mother’s letter acting like a ballast stone on his mood he let go of Lily and straightened.

      Lily rubbed her hand in disappointment as Gregor quickly retreated into his room and closed the door, leaving her in the hall, confused. Despite the heady press of his lips and his teasing caress, it was as if the Lord of Misrule had abandoned him completely and he couldn’t be free of her fast enough. Was it just the letter troubling him or was it something more, something to do with seeing Lily? Maybe he regretted being so open and intimate with her last night and this morning was an attempt to make clear to her there could be no more between them than a Christmas Eve kiss.

      Lily’s stomach tightened with worry, and the shame she’d experienced when he’d turned from her on the dance floor swept in to blot out the excitement from last night until she forced it back. Surely whatever was distracting him this morning had nothing to do with her. He’d told her so and she’d seen it in his face when he’d mentioned his mother and the troubles at home.

      Lily raised her hand, tempted to knock and offer him some of the comfort she felt he needed, but didn’t. Her parents might be lenient with many things, but even they would look askance at a single young lady alone in the bedroom of an unmarried gentleman.

      She wandered off down the hall towards the stairs, knowing she must wait until later for Gregor to look to her for support, assuming he decided to do such a thing. Despite the kiss last night, there was no promise of more between them and no reason why she should expect further confidence and intimacy than what they’d already shared.

      Ahead of her, Rose’s bedroom door was cracked open and she could hear her and Petunia talking inside. She headed for Rose’s room, eager to join them and forget her worries, when Petunia’s voice made her freeze.

      ‘You shouldn’t encourage her with Lord Marbrook.’

      Lily leaned towards the opening to listen, careful not to call attention to her presence.

      ‘Why not? I think it’d be an excellent match. They’re very much alike in temperament,’ Rose countered. ‘And imagine Lily as a viscountess.’

      ‘It isn’t likely to happen.’ Petunia sniffed.

      ‘Afraid our little sister will outrank you?’ Rose teased.

      ‘I’m afraid she’ll be humiliated again. It’s troubling enough Mother allowed him to come here at all, but for him to show Lily special attention is beyond the pale, especially since everyone knows a Marbrook, no matter how amiable he is to our family, is never going to disgrace his own grand name by marrying so far beneath him.’

      ‘I think you’ve misjudged Lord Marbrook. His brother might have been arrogant, but I’ve seen no such tendency in him, at least not now.’

      ‘But what about four years ago?’

      ‘He was a boy then, and Lily just a girl. They’ve both matured a great deal since.’

      ‘Perhaps, but I’ve heard rumours his mother is pushing him to marry Viscount Daunton’s daughter. Most people expected an announcement last Season.’

      ‘If he didn’t ask her last Season, he probably won’t. Beside, Lord Marbrook doesn’t strike me as a man to be pushed into a marriage he doesn’t want, especially not by his mother.’

      ‘Nor is he the kind to rush into anything. He might play the fool at the servants’ ball, but he won’t do so in London, especially not with Lily,’ Petunia insisted.

      Lily’s chest constricted and panic surged through her. Last night, in the dark of her room, when the moon was high and reflecting off the small arches of snow snug in the corners of the window panes, she’d allowed herself to believe there might be something more between her and Gregor. Hearing Petunia state the truth so plainly, she realised there wasn’t. Petunia was right, it was one thing to make merry in the country and quite another in the stately homes of London.

      Lily balled her hands and pressed them against her forehead. She’d been weak and foolish with Gregor, granting him favours no young lady should give a man of such slight acquaintance. Then to further lower herself, she’d told him about her troubles with her family, pouring out her heart like the lonely drunk in the public house she’d once read about in a novel. For all she knew, she’d been dallying with a man on the verge of a betrothal and the letter from his mother had something to do with Viscount Daunton’s daughter and not Marbrook Manor. It would certainly explain his quick retreat from her at his door, the memory of which made the shame sting even more.

      ‘What are you doing skulking around doorways?’ Laurus’s voice rang out from behind her.

      Lily pushed away from the wall and, catching her brother by the arm, pulled him to the stairs.

      ‘Do you ever speak softly?’ she hissed.

      ‘No more than anyone else in this family.’ He stopped at the top of the stairs to study her, concern furrowing his brow. ‘Is something wrong?’

      She twisted her hands in front of her, wanting to confide in the one sibling who understood her, but she hardly knew where to begin, or if she wanted to reveal her humiliation and confusion. Everything Petunia had said was right, she knew it, yet it contradicted everything she’d come to feel about Gregor last night. Surely he wasn’t the man Petunia described, though the one who’d

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