Page 47 of The Marquis, the Minx, and the Mistletoe
"You did. In any event, she was extremely vigilant any time candy was involved in the subsequent Christmas festivities, for years to come. To this day, I think Alex shies away from hard candies and likely doesn't realize why."
"Oh, he knows," she assured them with a grim satisfaction. "He knows."
"It meant more for the elder boys, though, so we never held it against him."
Ruthie laughed, reaching up to touch Sheldon's cheek. "You were always such a good boy, Sheldon. Just what Gideon needed to remember that he was a child without going too wild. I do miss those days."
"Speaking of Alex," said the reverend thoughtfully. "He told me this morning that he has found my star. I have a gift set aside, but now I've a desire to swap it out for strung candy."
"I frequently grouse but I never complain," Sheldon recited, from the batch of clues. "Where did you hide it?"
"In the musket hanging on the wall in the study," Reverend Halliwell whispered, as though it were still a secret. "I'm surprised Alex of all people figured it out. He seems to rather detest the grouse hunt."
Sheldon left Ruthie and the reverend to their chat, bowing out to search the market for Miss Everstead. He saw Alex waving perfume wands under Heloise's nose, much to the latter's distaste, and Rose and Gideon considering some wooden toys that the children might favor. Where was the elusive and lovely Tatiana?
He looked down at Echo, who had been shadowing his steps in her customary silent contentment. "Well?" he said jokingly. "Where is she?"
Echo only yawned, nudging her head up under his hand for a scratch, since she knew she had his attention for a moment. He gladly obliged.
He went hunting for her, weaving between market stalls and little pavilions, the smells of dried flowers and fresh bread and all manner of sweets hanging light in the cold air. She had been wearing lace, he recalled, a dark color somewhere between purple and blue, with a matching bonnet that caught her dark hair into a fetching fall of curls.
So involved was he in searching for her that he almost did not hear the whisper of her voice from the small alley that wrapped around the church. She did not emerge, wishing to catch his attention and only his attention, beckoning him to her where they might have a stolen moment out of view.
He stepped into the little alley and found his wrist seized by her gloved hand, a stifled giggle pulling him to where she had positioned herself between two pillars, leaning flush against the brick so that he might wedge into the same tiny space with her. He could not resist capturing a kiss, using the connection between them to stifle the laughter that bubbled up from both of them.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and he hoisted her against himself, pressing her backward into the stone so that they might truly and completely enjoy this little tryst, and he tasted her at length, for she was by far the most tempting thing on offer at this year's parish market.
She pulled back, a wide grin on her face and a sparkle in her dark eyes. "I have been wondering every night," she whispered, "will Lord Moorvale appear again at my door? I confess I am disappointed in your waning ambitions."
He raised his eyebrows, a wolfish grin spreading across his face at the thought of her waiting for him, night after night. "We might be caught," he cautioned her. "That has been the reason for my discretion."
"I do not care," she insisted, her voice breathy and excited. "Will you come tonight?"
"Hm," he mused, pretending that he would ever consider declining such a request, if only to make her laugh again. He loved to see her happy. "Only if you will be waiting for me."
"Hm," she mimicked, squeezing him in her embrace.
It was Echo's whine that separated them, for the loyal dog had stood sentry over their escape into the alcove. She turned her head and cast baleful eyes behind her as they rapidly rearranged themselves, blinking as though she could not abide their sluggishness. She gave a low bark.
"Yes, yes, we're coming," Tia huffed, gathering up her skirts and stepping out first into the open air of the market, leaving a small pat on the head behind for the dog.
Sheldon couldn't suppress his grin any more than she could her blushing cheeks, and strode out after her a few seconds later, resisting the urge to whistle as he went.
"Oh, there you are," called Gloriana, who was bustling toward them with a stricken look on her pretty face. "Tia, I've been looking all over. The post has come." She held up a brown envelope, waving it in the air as if it might burst into flame at any moment. "This one is for you."
Tia stilled, her rosy complexion draining away, leaving her cheeks the color of ash.
He waited for her to cast him a look, some indication of what he should do to best comfort or reassure her, but she did not look at him at all. She forced herself to exhale the breath she was holding and marched in short steps over to where Glory was, speaking to her in whispered tones as she took the letter and held it between her hands, as though she were making a prayer of it.
Glory nodded, patting her friend on the shoulder, and called to Sheldon, "You've had a letter too, Lord Moorvale, from your estate! We are readying to return to the manor anon to sort through the parcels and such."
He nodded, a pang of rejection resounding somewhere in his chest as he watched Gloriana take Tia under her arm, whispering soothing things he could not hear to Tatiana. He wished to be the one comforting her just now. He could guess at the contents of that letter, but she had not even seen fit to give him a nod or a shake of her head to let him know she was well!
He frowned, watching as the Somers women gathered and made way to the carriages that would take them back to the estate. He realized that Echo had trailed along with them, evidently more desirous of company with her own sex than with her brooding master. She clung close to Tia's skirts and waited patiently to be invited into the carriage with the other ladies.
He sighed, shaking his head. He felt unreasonably put out that he had not been Tia's source of comfort and confidence in this matter. He did not consider himself a jealous man, and never had been prone to fits of territorial ardor. What was the matter with him?
He reached down instinctively to stroke the top of Echo's head, but then remembered that she had already gone.
