Page 29 of The Marquis, the Minx, and the Mistletoe
"Papa's favorite story," Gideon recited, the suspicion on his face ebbing a little, but not retreating entirely. "I confess I haven't the foggiest notion of what he could be referring to, which is honestly a little humbling, as the papa in question."
"Even if you did know," Rose pointed out from ahead, turning her face slightly to address her husband behind her, "you would not be able to tell us, nor would it be fair for you to claim that star as your own."
"I don't recall that rule," Alex chirped.
"It is implied," Heloise said impatiently, "to anyone with a functioning understanding of honor."
"Not I, then," Alex said with a grin, making his wife giggle.
The fire was roaring in high spirits in the sitting room, and at Sheldon's encouragement the party made themselves more casually comfortable than they might otherwise have done in polite company. To him, this signaled an acceptance of Miss Everstead that was rather significant, even if she did not yet see it. In particular, Gideon sharing a settee with his wife, who had chosen to lounge on her side, tucked into the crook of his arm, was an informality for the viscount rarely seen even within the walls of Somerton, much less in the presence of an outsider.
Heloise and her husband situated themselves on the floor, amidst a pile of blankets and pillows, while Glory and Alex opted to share a particularly large armchair, with the former propped onto the lap of the latter.
It felt a shame that Sheldon and Tia could not snuggle up in similar fashion, at least in Sheldon's estimation, though he knew that even in such familiar company, such a thing would be deemed extremely inappropriate. At least it would remain inappropriate until such a time as he might make her his wife, which he wanted to do more and more by the day.
What was it she had said earlier?I chose not to marry.
He looked over at her, settling into a comfortable cushioned seat with a braided blanket in her lap, hugging a cup of hot, spiked cider close to her face, so that the curls of steam stroked at the roses of her cheeks.
Had she meant that she had chosen not to marry at all?Ever?
No, he couldn't accept that. Even if he could not have her, it would be far too tragic a choice of the powers of creation for that woman to go through her life unloved and untouched. Surely the world could not stand for it.
"Papa's favorite story," said Alex Somers, running a hand through his shock of bright, red hair. "I can't for the life of me think what it might be. Perhaps some cautionary tale he keeps repeating to the children, hm? Like that time Hel broke Callum's arm."
"I didn't!" Heloise protested, though her husband only laughed, refusing to comment upon it.
"Or the time she dyed Glory's teeth purple," Rose put in. "That is a favorite of mine."
"She flung a snake at a governess as well," Gideon said with a trace of weariness. "If I were to bombard the children with all the tales of Heloise creating chaos, I would never have time for anything else."
"Perhaps it's your own misdeeds that the boy is fond of," Heloise said sharply, leaning against her husband's chest as she fixed Gideon in her green glare. "Does he know that you sent half of England into a scandalized bustle after you ran off with his mother in the night?"
"He does not," Rose said delicately, "though I do look forward to being able to tell the children that story someday. It is rather romantic, under all the scandal, wouldn't you say, darling?"
"I would," he replied fondly.
"When that happened," Tia put in a little wistfully, her voice breathy from the cider, "I recall so many stories abuzz in London. That you had planned it for years, and disposed of the two men to whom Lady Somers had been formerly engaged, which of course, was only whispered by the silliest of gossips. Some said that Lord Somers had chosen to leave London that night, having been rebuffed by another lady, and Miss Rose d'Aubrey had hidden in his carriage, only making herself known when it was too late to salvage her reputation."
"They said a lot of ridiculous things," Glory replied sourly, "not a one of them true. You'd hear that Gideon kidnapped Rose one day, and on the next, that actually she had entrapped him. They were star-crossed lovers in some stories and in others, desperate criminals. They'd stolen a fortune or otherwise lost it, either spiriting north with a cache of jewels or scraping by, with Rosie paying for their stay in a country inn by selling her long, golden hair."
Gideon immediately began to chuckle as Rose's cheeks colored, her lips pressing together to stop a guilty smile from spreading over them. "Ah," she said after a moment, "that last bit has a bit of truth to it."
"Imagine my surprise," Gideon said with a shake of his head, "as we prepared to leave that morning and the inn matron informed me that the debt had been well settled. I didn't ask, and it took me a damned long time to make the connection between her sudden change in hairstyle and that free stay in the midlands."
Gloriana was momentarily too aghast to speak, her pretty lips hanging open in a perfect O. "Yousoldyourhair?" she finally managed, clearly scandalized.
"I did," Rose replied happily. "I like to think it's being worn by some particularly grateful grandmother to this day. It was a relief to be free of it, to tell it honestly."
"It is not as though you are perfectly innocent of scandalous story-making," Alex said to his wife with an affectionate nudge. "Or have you forgotten smacking me in the face with that ledger, leaving me flat on my back seeing stars, upon the instance of our first meeting? And I was simply trying to enter my ancestral home!"
"Through a window," Glory replied flatly. "In the dead of night."
"An entrance is an entrance, my dear. What is a window but a very small door?"
Gideon was chuckling again, a rare enough occurrence itself, much less twice in a row. "I did enjoy finding you so addled that night," he confessed to his little brother. "It was past time someone gave you a good smack."
"I think you'll recall," Alex replied acerbically, "that a few weeks later someone knocked me fully unconscious in my own bedroom. I'm lucky my brains weren't permanently addled during that particular stretch of time."
