Page 15 of The Grand Mistletoe Assembly
They were her most treasured possessions, filled with the audacious escapades and inner musings of her mother.
Pippa did not want to have any regrets in her life. And it just so happened that the Pearler ball announced the end of the Season. Last year, her first-ever attendance, she had marked it with her first taste of brandy punch.
This year, she would mark it with a kiss.
CHAPTER 2
Your first kiss should be sweet. It should be wild. It should be heaven.
—From the Diary of Lillian Wright
PEARLER CHARITY BALL
Pippa saw him the moment she stepped into the moonlit garden. Tall. Handsome. Puddings embroidered across his chest. Incredibly out of place.
The Earl of Chatteris.
A vivid picture worthy of a treasure chest filled with gold.
His was the type of chiseled features that were only depicted in those Roman picture books. A face that could snare a woman’s attention and hold it. Yet an air of winter clung to his demeanor, keeping all the ladies at a fair distance.
Tonight, however, his cold aura was decked in a glorious waistcoat embroidered with one hundred tiny colorful puddings. A masterpiece that had taken her all year to fashion. All in all, a delightfully merry package. All positioned beneath an archway of vined greenery with patches of mistletoe entwined overhead.
Before she could slip away unnoticed, the earl’s gaze locked onto her.
So frosty.
“Pippa?” A momentary flash of surprise sounded before he cleared his throat. “What are you doing out here alone? Where is Nancy?”
The familiar suspicion in his voice made her smile.
“Nicholas,” Pippa greeted, purposefully ignoring the rest.
He stiffened at the use of his name. Like always. While he attempted to keep a distance with polite courtesy, Pippa thrived to shatter it with blatant impertinence. She smiled at the assortment of puddings. Of the waistcoat, he said nothing, as if he did not stand out like a Christmas treat.
“You did not answer my question.”
“I must not have heard one,” she said, the impulse to tease bubbling forth.
She could not help herself. Ever since she met Nancy in her childhood, she had spent the holidays with the Byrne family. In fact, she considered it her second home. Her father rarely came to London, and after he remarried five years ago, his main concern had become his new wife. That meant the time she spent at the Byrne house had become more permanent in nature. All her belongings had gradually made their way over to her chamber in the Byrne residence.
That, however, did not mean she had free rein. It only meant that the man before her considered her his ward. While that had never bothered Pippa, her relationship with Chatteris could be considered ordinary at best. They were not close. The man was just too solemn. And she … the exact opposite.
That was probably why, over the years, Pippa had developed a habit of teasing him. No person should go through lifethatserious. Poking fun at the prickly earl was like skipping through a field of flowers with a fresh summer breeze tickling one’s skin.
Extraordinarily delightful.
But most spectacular were his expressions. One would think such a cold, almost paralyzed face would not reveal much, but Pippa had found the intricacy of each subtle flinch early on. The hundred different lights that reflected in his dark gaze. The subtle clench of his jaw. The tick at the corner of his eye. The barely-there purse of his lips. Pippa could not help but hunt down these little treasures at each of their encounters.
Tonight was no different. Especially given the sight before her.
Pudding embroidery. Mistletoe. Gloriously rigid earl.
The urge to tease him sparked to life again, and instead of retreating, Pippa glanced at the mistletoe perched above the earl’s head before her gaze dropped to a particularly wobbly pudding on his waistcoat.
A bubble of laughter rose in her chest. Such a cold, severe-looking man standing beneath a patch of mistletoe was a sight to be woven into the fabric of her memory.
This was not a chance to be passed up.
