Page 22 of An Earl's Christmas Seduction
“It’s been a wonderful evening! Such jollity,” she said, and Harry nodded.
“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it. Nicholas took some persuading to invite you all here, but here we are,” he said, and Amelia smiled.
She was curious to know more about the earl and wondered if Harry might be the one to answer the questions foremost on her mind.
“It’s quite a mix of people from different aspects of his life,” she said, and Harry nodded.
“Yes… I suppose he choose those he favors most,” he said.
Amelia glanced over to where the earl was still being talked at by Constance, wondering what he saw in her to count her as among his favored.
“Even Miss Kent?” Amelia asked, and Harry laughed.
“They’ve known one another for many years, since childhood. I’m sure he didn’t want to leave her out,” he replied.
It was a diplomatic answer, but not one that answered Amelia’s question. She remained curious as to Nicholas’ intentions, despite his reasoning of loneliness out in the snow. Why had he gathered such a disparate group of people together? Was there a connection between them? And what of her and her mother? They knew nothing of the earl, and yet it seemed the baroness had already ingratiate herself.
“No. Perhaps not,” Amelia replied, though the thought of being in the company of Constance in the coming days was not a cheering one.
The guests had finished devouring the hot dishes on the sideboard, and the last of the puddings had been demolished, too. A large piece of Stilton went untouched, and coffee was now served as the guests returned to the drawing room. The yule log was burning merrily in the hearth and throwing out such a heat as to warm the room entirely.
“Isn’t it lovely?” Clara said, taking Amelia’s arm in hers.
“It is, yes. But I’m growing somewhat tired, I must admit,” Amelia replied.
It had been a long day for her and her mother. The breakfast they had eaten at the inn on the London road seemed a distant memory, given all that had occurred since the morning, and her eyes were growing heavy. Amelia was looking forward to sinking down into the comfortable bed in her bedroom and falling asleep with the glow of a fire to keep out the chill.
“Oh, but we must play some parlor games,” Clara said, as her sister came over to where they were sitting.
“Oh, yes, we can’t let the evening pass by without parlor games. Let’s play snapdragon. I’ll fetch some brandy. Nicholas won’t mind. Who else will play snapdragon with us?” Isobel said, and several of the others agreed to do so.
But Amelia’s eyes were growing heavy, and she declined to take part in the raucous game, watching as Clara, Isobel, Edgar, Hugh, and the viscount all sat down to play. It was a riotous affair. The brandy was poured into a large bowl and set on fire after a pound of raisins had been poured into it.
There was shrieking and exclamations as the players tried to snatch the raisins from the flames without being burned. The viscount emerged victorious, and calls for a second game were made. But Amelia noticed several guests had slipped away, including her mother. With the clock on the mantelpiece chiming midnight, Amelia did the same.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said to Isobel, who turned to her and nodded.
“You must play tomorrow. We’ll do riddles, too. Goodnight, Amelia,” she said, and the others said the same.
Amelia looked around for her host, wanting to thank the earl for his kindness. But he was nowhere to be seen, and Constance had gone, too. Amelia sighed to herself, fearing she was making herself look foolish by giving Nicholas her attention.
As another round of snapdragon began, Amelia slipped out of the drawing into the dark corridor beyond, pulling her shawl around her to keep out the chill, for the fire in the hallway had long since died down. She was about to make her way up to bed, taking a candle from a nearby sconce, when she noticed a chink of light coming from a door at the end of the corridor.
Low voices could be heard, and she realized they were those of the earl and Harry, talking in the library.
“I don’t know. Perhaps it was a mistake to invite them. But it’s done now. They’re here,” Nicholas was saying.
Amelia knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she could not prevent herself from edging along the corridor, hoping the creak of a floorboard would not reveal her presence. She was intrigued to hear what they were saying, and curious to know the reasons for the gathering.
“And what have you learned so far?” Harry asked, as Amelia listened outside the door.
“Nothing. Well, they’re all as I know them to be. Apart from Lady Amelia and her mother, of course. But the baroness…I thought she didn’t know any of them. But it seems she does. The others…we’ll have to wait and see,” the earl replied.
Amelia was confused. What were they waiting for? Nicholas and Harry had told her there was no reason for bringing the company together as they had done. It was nothing but a convivial gathering of guests for a Christmas celebration, even as it seemed there was now an ulterior motive to reveal.
“But will it make any difference? Perhaps she’s got nothing to do with your mother or who your mother might be. I don’t see how any of them can know anything more than you do already,” Harry said.
Amelia’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes growing wide with realization. The reason for the gathering was now evident. It was planned so the earl could discover the truth about himself. But how could he possibly know the answer would lie in the strange assortment of guests now assembled?
