Which wouldn’t be terribly difficult, given there were ninety-four of the blasted things. “Come along, boys, it’s getting late. It’s past time for you both to go to bed.”

“No! Can’t we watch for a little while longer, Miss Templeton?”

They hung onto her hands like two clinging limpets, their eyes wide and pleading. Usually, she had a dreadful time resisting those big green eyes, but this time, she couldn’t bear to stay where she was for another minute. “You recall, do you not, boys, that we had an agreement? I permitted you each a bit of gingerbread and a peek at the party, and in return, you’re meant to go to bed without a fuss. It’s not gentlemanly to break your word.”

Ryan exchanged a guilty glance with his brother, and let out a defeated sigh. “Yes, Miss Templeton.”

They didn’t object again as she led from the balcony down the corridor, and soon enough she had them tucked into the beds, their eyes drooping. “There we are. Sweet dreams, my little gentlemen.”

Ryan gave a great yawn. “Will you go and see Hecate before you go to bed, Miss Templeton? I think she may be lonely.”

She smoothed his dark hair back from his forehead. “I will, indeed. Now, go to sleep, boys, and when you wake tomorrow morning, it will be Christmas Day.”

But as she closed the boys’ bedchamber door behind her and made her way through the darkened corridor and down the back staircase—taking care to give the ballroom a wide berth—it didn’t feel much like Christmas to her.

It felt like something was slipping through her fingers, and no matter how she clung to it, how she clawed and scratched and struggled to hold onto it, in the end she would have to let it go, and a piece of her heart along with it.

15

“Helena Eloisa Templeton, you will stop thisinstant!”

Helena’s hand was on the knob of the stable door, and she was one twitch of her fingers away from turning it and escaping into the stables where there wouldn’t be a single, cursed kissing ball, but at the sound of the familiar voice, she froze.

Eloisa? Dear God, Eloisa…

Not a single person in all of Oxfordshire knew her middle name was Eloisa, except for?—

“Not another step. I’m warning you, Helena.”

No. It couldn’t be!

Except there were only two people in the world who could make her halt in her tracks with a single command. One was Euphemia, but only when she was in a temper. No one ever dared challenge Phee when she was in a temper.

The other was Juliet. No one ever dared challenge Juliet,ever.

Slowly she turned around, and there stood her sister in the most mouthwatering rose silk gown Helena had ever seen, herdark hair piled in artful curls atop her head, rubies glittering at her throat and in her ears.

She blinked, then blinked again, but all the blinking in the world wasn’t going to change that fact that Juliet had somehow magically appeared in the stable yard at Hawke’s Run, and was standing there with her arms crossed over her chest looking very displeased, indeed. “Juliet, for pity’s sake, what in the world are you doing?—”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in love with Lord Hawke?”

Helena’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Why,” Juliet repeated in the calm, measured tone that warned she was very angry, indeed. “Didn’t you tell me you were in love with Lord Hawke?”

“I don’t?—”

“No.” Juliet held up her hand. “Don’t even bother trying to tell me you’re not in love with him, because I know better. Now, let’s try this again, shall we? Why, Helena, did you sit across from me in the drawing room at Steeple Cross—forhourson end, mind you—without confessing a single word about the fact that you’ve fallen madly in love with Lord Hawke?”

Madly? More like hopelessly. “What are you evendoinghere?” Yes, that was very good. Perhaps she could stall Juliet while she thought up a plausible lie in response to her sister’s other question.

Juliet huffed. “Did you not notice, Helena, that there’s a Christmas fete in progress in the ballroom right now?”

“Of course, I noticed it! Who do you suppose made all those blasted kissing balls? Look at my hands!” Helena held up her bandaged fingers. “Ninety-four kissing balls, Juliet.Ninety-four. Do you realize how long it takes to make ninety-four kissing balls? I’ve spent the last five days dreaming about kissing balls!”

Oh, dear. She was beginning to sound a trifle unhinged.

But Juliet merely raised an eyebrow at this outburst. “Miles and I came for the fete, of course. You didn’t imagine I was going to pass up the chance to see Lord Hawke for myself, did you?”