The Christmas Countess. Adrienne Basso

Lady Charlotte sat up a fraction in her chair.

      “There now, you have been given fair warning, Marion,” Lady Charlotte said. “If you persist on your matchmaking quest, Miss Tremaine and I will be forced to take drastic action.”

      Lady Marion’s gaze narrowed. “I see that you are both planning to be difficult, but that will not deter me,” she replied. “You forget, but I was arguably the most impossible debutante for more Seasons than I can recall. My mother used to repeatedly tell me it was her greatest fear that I would never have a home of my own.”

      “That is because she knew how bossy you can be,” Lady Charlotte said with a shy grin. “She needed you to be in charge of your household in order to gain peace within her own home.”

      “Oh, how true.” Lady Marion laughed. “But Mother also wanted me to have my own happiness.”

      Rebecca looked at Lady Marion. “Not every woman’s happiness is found with a man.”

      “Another excellent point, Miss Tremaine, which proves that in addition to your beauty and charm, your intelligence is but one more of your outstanding qualities.”

      “Must I again remind you that it is December?” Lady Charlotte interrupted.

      “Oh, fiddle. Courtship is a sport that is conducive to any time of year.”

      “And a husband is the prize?” Lady Charlotte squeaked.

      “In a manner of speaking.” Lady Marion took a bite of her fish and chewed thoughtfully. “Yet I prefer to think of a husband as the trophy.”

      “That would look best when displayed on a mantel?” Rebecca asked.

      “Since you are unmarried ladies, I shall not say precisely where, and in what condition, a husband looks best, though I will give you a strong hint and remark that a prime location is above stairs. Behind a closed bedchamber door.”

      Rebecca was so surprised she let her fork go limp. The sizable serving of creamed potatoes that was resting there slid off, missed her plate and dropped on to the linen tablecloth. Lady Charlotte, she noted, had blushed to the roots of her hair.

      “Marion, you are wicked!” Lady Charlotte exclaimed.

      “I am indeed and it is one of my finest qualities. Richard tells me so all the time.”

      After a heartbeat of stunned silence, all three women burst into laughter.

      “You truly must have set the ton on its ear,” Rebecca said. “I do believe I would have enjoyed seeing you in action.”

      “I was willfully incorrigible, truly a sight to behold,” Lady Marion admitted modestly. “But then I met Richard and everything changed.”

      “How?” Rebecca wanted to know.

      “I fell in love. I fought it at first, rather spiritedly. But in the end I discovered a fundamental truth. No matter how hard you try, you cannot control love. It controls you. The heart wants what it wants. And my heart wanted Richard.”

      “It was terribly romantic,” Lady Charlotte said with an envious sigh. “And a great relief to the family to have you safely wed at long last.”

      “Ha! They are mainly relieved that I am Richard’s problem now and not theirs,” Lady Marion exclaimed.

      “Well, yes there is that too,” Lady Charlotte concurred and all three women burst into another round of laughter.

      They finished their meal in companionable conversation. Lady Marion was droll and witty, while Lady Charlotte proved to be a gentle foil to her cousin’s rapier tongue. Rebecca was surprised to find herself enjoying the company very much. It had been years since she had indulged in fun, female dialog, and she realized she missed the unique perspective and companionship that could be found among women similar in age.

      Yet as much as she was enjoying their company, Rebecca declined Lady Marion’s invitation to join her and the larger group of women who were anxious to engage in holiday activity planning. Lady Charlotte also declined to join the group in the green salon and took her leave. Rebecca commented that she was feeling slightly fatigued from the trip and would probably indulge in a nap.

      It was, of course, a lie. Knowing that Lily was so close would make it impossible to sleep, no matter how exhausted Rebecca felt. But she could hardly barge into the nursery at this time of day. During lunch Lady Charlotte had mentioned it was filled to near bursting with children, since all the guests were bringing their entire families. What possible, legitimate reason could Rebecca give for wanting to be among all that chaos?

      She was nearing the staircase when she heard her name called. Rebecca turned to see the earl hailing her. As he drew near, she was briefly distracted by his handsome, chiseled features, his wide shoulders and firmly muscled physique. She was confused too, because her reaction to him was almost physical. Her heart thumped in an uneven rhythm, the breath rushed from her lungs, the foyer suddenly seemed too stuffy and warm.

      Nerves? Fear? Or something else that was too dangerous, too distressing to acknowledge.

      The sophisticated elegance she so naturally associated with him was once again in evidence this afternoon, which was odd given his casual, country attire. With no small measure of regret, she concluded he was one of those rare individuals blessed with the confidence, good looks and poise that put women at a disadvantage.

      “I apologize for not greeting you earlier, Miss Tremaine. Estate business called me away.”

      “Your mother kindly explained.”

      “Have you eaten?”

      “Yes, with Lady Marion, and your sister Charlotte. Everything was lovely.”

      “Good.” He glanced at the staircase, then back at her. “And now?”

      Rebecca felt a pang of guilt. He was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt and thus refused to accuse her outright of trying to find Lily, but he must be wondering where she was heading at this time of the day. “I thought I might rest in my chamber. The journey from London was tiring.”

      “Pity. I was hoping to persuade you to join me in the nursery.”

      Her hopes soared. Rebecca gazed up at the earl, testing his sincerity. His expression was unreadable, yet in truth his motives did not matter. As she had previously told him, it was his actions that interested her.

      “Of course I would like to visit the nursery. I assume Lily will be there?”

      “She should be. If she hasn’t run off from Mrs. James.”

      Rebecca’s eyes widened in concern. “Does she do that often? Run away from her governess? It can be dangerous, you know.”

      The earl smiled. “She enjoys more freedom here in the country than when we are in town, but whenever she “hides” she does so within the house. She is always safe.”

      Rebecca nodded in relief. The thought of Lily in any sort of peril frightened her more than she could say.

      Silently, they climbed to the top floor of the manor, the earl leading the way. As they neared their destination, Rebecca could hear the shrieks of laughter on the other side of the closed nursery door. The instant the earl opened it, silence fell. A multitude of small heads jerked up, anxious to see if it was another young friend coming to join in their playtime.

      Discovering it was only two adults, most of the youngsters returned to their activities. Several were congregated in the center of the room around an impressive castle they were constructing out of painted wooden bricks. Others were sitting together at tables, a few of the younger children were contentedly nestled on the laps of their nurses.

      Rebecca counted nine children before the earsplitting cry of “Papa!” cut through the air.

      Lily hurled herself at the earl, literally jumping into his arms. He caught her easily and swung her high.

      “She