A Regency Christmas Treat: Moonlight and Mistletoe / A Mistletoe Masquerade. Louise Allen

you drive? But only a gig?’

      ‘I will have you know that it is a most dashing vehicle, my lord,’ Hester retorted.

      ‘Could I tempt you to try a curricle?’

      ‘Very easily indeed,’ she replied frankly. ‘But I should not.’

      ‘Even with a groom up behind?’

      ‘Single ladies have to be very careful of appearances, my lord.’

      To her surprise, it was Major Piper who intervened. ‘Our local ladies are very partial to driving, Miss Lattimer, I am sure there would be no question of censure. My wife is a most accomplished whip and Miss Redland also. Carriage picnics are an established summer recreation amongst us.’

      At this point Mrs Bunting rose, collected the other ladies’ attention and announced, ‘We will leave the gentlemen to their port.’

      The ladies followed the vicar’s wife out, leaving behind them the scraping of chair legs as the men resumed their seats.

      ‘How lucky you are, Miss Lattimer,’ Miss Redland exclaimed as the door was closing. ‘Fancy Lord Buckland offering to teach you to drive a curricle! Mind you, he is not so good looking as Sir Lewis.’

      ‘Annabelle!’ Her mother turned, clucking in disapproval, the sound finding an echo in Miss Prudhome’s audible agitation.

      ‘Well, I think it is most unfair of Miss Lattimer to arrive just when another eligible gentleman comes to Winterbourne,’ Annabelle said with a joking air that Hester suspected was only partially genuine. ‘And with such lovely London gowns as well.’

      ‘Nonsense, child, you will give Miss Lattimer a most unfortunate impression of you.’ Mrs Redland turned an approving eye upon Hester as they took their seats in the salon. ‘I am sure Miss Lattimer’s intentions are far removed from such frippery trifles as gowns and flirtations.’

      Hester smiled back modestly, but with a sinking heart. It was going to be akin to walking a tightrope to maintain one’s reputation in such a small society and with such ineffectual chaperonage. Especially when one’s heart yearned to be seated beside Guy Westrope as his curricle bowled along the road with not a groom in sight.

       Chapter Seven

      Hester spent the next half-hour in a state of nervous suspense, negotiating the social minefield presented by a group of well-bred and curious ladies all intent on extracting as much information as possible about her and speculating upon their host.

      She answered all their personal questions with modest reserve, but with as much frankness as possible, correctly judging that not to do so would create an air of mystery and draw unwanted attention. Fortunately Miss Prudhome knew next to nothing about her new employer’s background. Hester told herself that if she could survive the first few weeks then she would cease to be a novelty and would feel much safer.

      Apparently satisfied by her explanation that she found London noisy and unhealthy and yearned for a return to the rural life she had enjoyed in Portugal, the ladies moved on to genteel speculation about their host.

      ‘Why do you think he is here, Miss Lattimer?’ Mrs Piper enquired. ‘You are his nearest neighbour, after all.’

      ‘Perhaps he is looking for property in the area?’ Hester suggested, snatching at a part-truth.

      ‘Possibly,’ Mrs Redland agreed. ‘But why not send his agent?’

      Eventually they speculated themselves to a standstill and moved on to discuss the arrival in Aylesbury of a modiste reputed to be lately of London. Hester took her part in the conversation, aware from movement outside that the gentlemen, or some of them, had gone out into the garden.

      Why she could not imagine, for it was far too dark to walk around and must be decidedly cold, then she saw the glow of a cigarillo end and guessed that at least one of them was enjoying blowing a cloud before rejoining the ladies.

      For a moment she glimpsed a flash of light from one of the Moon House windows; Jethro and Susan must have returned early. Although why they should have needed to go into the dining room…

      ‘I do beg your pardon, Mrs Bunting. My attention was caught by something outside and I missed what you just said.’

      ‘Only that I hope the village women I recommended are proving satisfactory, Miss Lattimer.’

      ‘Indeed, yes,’ Hester agreed warmly. ‘They are making great inroads into the cleaning, which allows my people to concentrate on setting the rooms to rights. I have yet to decide on whether I will employ one of them as a cook.’

      ‘I do hope you are not troubled by rats and mice, after the house has stood empty for so long,’ Mrs Piper interjected. ‘Horrid things—and the nearest reliable rat catcher is at Tring.’

      Stepping into the room with his male guests, Guy caught the last sentence. ‘Is anyone plagued with rats?’ he enquired.

      ‘Oh, no, my lord,’ Mrs Piper assured him. ‘I was just warning Miss Lattimer that should she be so troubled we do not have a rat catcher in the village.’

      A flicker of an idea came to him and at the same moment he caught Hester’s eye. Her level gaze said as plainly as if she had spoken, And do not think of introducing them! He smiled inwardly, enjoying the wordless exchange. He felt a sense of affinity with Miss Lattimer, which was rare in his acquaintance with women. It was a feeling both pleasurable and unsettling.

      No, Hester Lattimer was too intelligent—something as simple as a few rats was not going to work. If Miss Lattimer was not going to be frightened away from the Moon House— and that might still happen—then she would have to be seduced away, and that before she became any more comfortable in the neighbourhood.

      In fact, he decided, settling in a chair next to Mrs Bunting and appearing to take an interest in the drama of the choir-master’s falling-out with the churchwardens, he was not at all sure he had not made an error in inviting her this evening. It was a gesture that cemented her social position in the village faster than perhaps anything else could have done and it brought her into all too close a proximity with young Nugent.

      Eventually the clock struck ten and the party began to break up. In the hall Hester was helped into her cloak by a footman.

      ‘If you will excuse me, Miss Lattimer, I will just fetch a lantern to light you across the road.’

      The Redland family made their way out leaving Major Piper and the vicar waiting patiently whilst their wives recalled a matter that they simply had to discuss there and then. Hester looked up to find Guy by her side. ‘Thank you, my lord. It was most kind of you to invite me—such a pleasant way to get to know my new neighbours.’ His smile seemed somewhat wry, which was a puzzle. Hester saw the footman emerging from the back regions and held out her hand. ‘Goodnight, my lord.’

      To her surprise, instead of shaking it, he turned it and kissed the gap over her pulse just before the buttons began. His lips were dry and warm and she felt them curve against her skin as though in a smile. ‘Goodnight, Miss Lattimer. I hope you will reconsider the driving. And my other suggestions.’

      Flustered, Hester retrieved her hand, hoping that none of the other guests had noticed the unusual gesture. She did not know what to make of it, only that her pulse was fluttering in a shamefully pleasant manner.

      ‘Goodnight,’ she called to the others and went out with the footman, Miss Prudhome hurrying at her heels. Guy was flirting, of course, that was all; pursuing his course of trying to unsettle or charm her enough to agree to what he wanted. It would serve him right if she pretended to fall for his wiles and take him at face value. It might be amusing to flirt back and see him beat a hasty retreat at the thought of an ineligible young woman appearing to accept his advances.

      Unless, of course, he assumed she