Page 25 of The Marquis, the Minx, and the Mistletoe
"What is it that you want, exactly?" Gideon asked, pushing himself up from his leather chair and setting his drying star aside and rubbing his hands together as though to dispel imagined dust. He walked around the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest and locking Sheldon in an exacting gaze. "In an ideal world, what would you choose for yourself in the years ahead? Forget your father and Society and all that nonsense. How would you best enjoy Utopia?"
It was a question he had never really considered. One lived life in stages, didn't he? Childhood, adolescence, the wild oats of early adulthood, then marriage, children, and so on. Thus far, Sheldon thought he had done a capital job whilst skipping his way down the list of life, despite any obstacles he'd encountered therein.
Tatiana Everstead's face rose easily in his mind's eye, pale and sweet and draped on either side with raven-dark hair. He wondered what it must be like to wake to that face every morning, and to be able to touch her soft skin whenever he liked. He pictured dark-haired children running through the halls of his ancestral estate, their giggles echoing on that ancient stone, and his heart clenched in his chest—was it panic or longing?
"I'd say figure out the answer to that question as a priority," Gideon continued, taking Sheldon's silence for an answer. "And talk to the lady. Find out what she is beneath her beauty. Rose and Gloriana certainly seem fond of her, so I think it likely that you will find good things, once you look."
"I think that is likely too," Sheldon replied, though he immediately had to stifle a yawn as the words left him, brought on by exhaustion that was inextricably tied to Miss Everstead. "Come, let's hide these stars. I think I'll sleep through luncheon."
"Well, sleep is always a good start." Gideon chuckled. "To all things, truly, but especially to knowing what you want."
* * *
Sheldon readand reread the poem he had written, mouthing the rhyme to himself one last time before he folded it up and tucked it into his pocket. He was rather pleased with the cleverness of his clue, and greatly anticipated seeing how it would be received.
He might be utterly shite at illustration, but he could write a jaunty rhyme in his sleep.
With the sun setting so early, they had agreed to convene some hours before dinner and start the game with at least a little light left for immediate hunting.
"Do you think we'll find the first star, Echo?" he asked, opening the door and stepping into the hall.
Awoo,said Echo, which might have meant anything. Sheldon was certain she could usually be interpreted as supportive, at least where he was concerned.
As he made his way to the sitting room, he was intercepted by the young Reggie Somers, who had somehow freed himself of his nanny and was tearing hell for leather down the halls, a smudged bit of paper in his hand.
"Uncle Sheldon!" he called, his voice pitched high with excitement. "I hid my star! No one will ever find it!"
"Ah, lad, but you want them to find it," Sheldon said with a grin, whipping the little hellion up and onto his hip, where the lad clung like a monkey, squealing with glee. "If they don't find it, you can't watch their delight when they get your special gift!"
"That is true," Reggie said, awe in his voice. "I could give my star gift to Callie. She likes gifts."
"Don't you have a gift for her anyhow, for Christmas morn?" Sheldon countered, withdrawing the crumpled paper from Reggie's hand and folding it into his jacket pocket. "What if I want your star gift, hm? Surely I deserve such a thing. Or what about your Mama and Papa? Or Auntie Hel?"
"Yes, what about me, little master?" said Heloise Somers as the two of them entered the sitting room and Sheldon swung Reggie back to standing, opposite his aunt. She placed her hands on her hips and gave him a look of mock sternness. "Do you think I can solve your clue?"
"No!" Reggie said, which made Heloise gasp in faux outrage and give him a couple of tickling pokes in the stomach to elicit giggles. He followed her to the settee where she had been reclining with one of the puppies and her husband, Callum, leaving Sheldon alone in the entryway.
Much of the family and staff was already gathered, many grouped off in different areas of the sitting room, making excited chatter amongst themselves. He saw Tatiana Everstead crouched down to speak to Callie Laughlin, her lacy red skirts pooled around her like those sparkling fields of cranberries one saw in the country, all swaying atop a layer of water. Her black hair was curled and spiraling down her slender throat. She laughed, touching the tip of Callie's nose, and making the child laugh too.
His chest clenched in the strangest way.
Gideon's advice urged him forward, though his steps were tentative, almost childish. It was ridiculous, really. A woman hadn't made him nervous like this since he was a lad. Echo apparently agreed, for she bounded forward in impatience, heading directly for the lady in question and the little girl at her side.
As ever, Echo was greeted with warmth and glee. Callie threw her arms around the dog's neck and Tia smiled, scratching at her behind the ears, and whispering something close to Echo's cheek that was apparently a secret between the two of them. Echo responded with a delicateawooand nudged Tia's cheek with her damp nose.
"Miss Everstead," Sheldon said with what he hoped was a more confident smile than his awkward lurch of nervousness would indicate. "Miss Laughlin."
"Uncle Sheldon, did you hide your star?" Callie asked, her dark eyes wide and sparkling with enthusiasm, still gripping Echo to her embrace. "I hid mine this morning in the—"
"Shh!" Tia said with a laugh, dropping a gentle hand on the girl's auburn curls. "You mustn't spoil the hunt!"
"I almost did!" Callie said with a sigh, blinking at her own recklessness. She released Echo and laced her fingers together in front of her skirt, giving Sheldon a bashful smile. "Don't tell me, after all."
"All right, little one," Sheldon agreed, chuckling. "I've already told my secret to Echo, however. Perhaps I've ruined the game myself."
"Echo won't tell," Callie said, casting her eyes to the side and lowering her voice to a whisper. "But I bet Sir Francis would."
"Is that Glory's puppy?" Tia asked, amusement dancing in her eyes as she came to her feet, straightening those crimson skirts.
