Page 4 of A Hellion's Christmas Kiss
“No, you are not,” she conceded. “But you have never been one to apologize so readily, especially to me. You are usually determined to win every argument. What has changed?”
“Nothing,” he said dismissively, then hesitated. “Perhaps I am simply tired of bickering with you.”
That would be a welcome change. She hoped it was true. The admission had sent a flicker of hope through her. “I would like that,” she said softly. “I do not enjoy our disagreements either.”
He smiled, a gentle curve of his lips that sent warmth spreading through her. “Then let this be the year we leave animosity behind. I would rather not spend Christmastide locked in battles of wit.”
“Then we are in agreement.” Rosella kept her gaze locked on his, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. If they could find a way to stop arguing perhaps they could also discover something far deeper, more meaningful with each other. “At least for the duration of the house party, we’ll call a truce.” Could this truly be the beginning of something different? Something better?
“A cessation of hostilities,” he said, his lips twitching with amusement. “Very well. We are in accord.”
Her heart raced, hope blooming within her. She had walked into the library restless and uncertain, but now she had a chance—a truce that might lead to something more. All she had wanted was a chance and now she would have one. If she could show him the depth of her heart, perhaps he would see her in a new light. Perhaps her wish, the one she had whispered to the heavens, would be answered. By the end of Christmastide, she might just win his love.
Two
Lady Rosella Prescott dressed carefully for dinner, instructing her maid to prepare one of her best gowns. It was a soft blue chiffon with white lace trim around the bodice, a color that matched her eyes and, she thought, enhanced them quite well. Truthfully, what she hoped was that a certain marquess would find it enticing—or better yet, irresistible. Perhaps it was a foolish endeavor, but she had to start somewhere.
She slid on her matching slippers and took one final look at her reflection. Her dark hair was swept into an elegant chignon, with a few loose tendrils framing her neck and cascading softly down her back. A simple diamond and sapphire pendant adorned her neck, the only jewelry she had chosen. Briefly, she had considered donning a diadem but dismissed the idea immediately. It was, after all, only a family dinner, and anything more would have been ostentatious.
A smile curved her lips as confidence blossomed. This time, she would succeed. He would not know what to make of this version of her. They had agreed to a truce, and she fully intended to use it to her advantage. Tonight, she would be charming, tantalizing, and utterly irresistible.
All her hopes and dreams revolved around one man. The Marquess of Kistleton held her heart, and tonight, she had to make him see her in a new light. If this attempt failed, she would have no choice but to set aside her feelings and accept that nothing would ever come of them. She loved him—foolish, blind fool that he was—but perhaps she was the greater fool for believing she might win his heart.
Taking a deep breath, she left the sanctuary of her bedchamber. Not that there was any real danger awaiting her, but in solitude, there was no fear of rejection or the daunting task of seduction. “This will work,” she told herself, repeating it like a mantra as she descended the staircase and entered the sitting room.
Noelle was already there, along with their mothers, the Duchess of Clare and the Duchess of Kissinger. But where were the men?
“I’m glad I do not appear to be late,” Rosella said, frowning slightly.
“Not at all, dear,” her mother, the Duchess of Clare, assured her. “Your father was delayed by some unexpected business, and the Duke of Kissinger is assisting him. They refused to share the details, but I expect they will join us soon.”
“My brother and yours are in the billiards room,” Noelle added. “They thought it an opportune time to play, given the delay.”
Rosella frowned again. “How long will dinner be delayed?” She had taken such care with her appearance, only to find the one person she wanted to see missing. How could she impress the Marquess of Kistleton if he wasn’t there to admire her?
“Dinner will be served in half an hour,” the Duchess of Kissinger replied. “Whether the gentlemen join us or not.”
“Our patience only extends so far,” the Duchess of Clare agreed. “As they well know.”
Noelle grinned. “Lucian and Asher won’t be long. My husband knows I’ll fetch him, and I am not above making a scene.”
“Your brother knows that as well,” Noelle’s mother added with a resigned sigh. “Thankfully, I no longer need to fret over your scandalous behavior now that you are married.”
Noelle rolled her eyes. “I was not that terrible.”
“Not at all,” her mother replied with a wry smile. “You were far worse.”
Rosella laughed as Noelle’s mouth fell open in shock. “Mother!”
“I speak the truth, and you know it,” the Duchess of Kissinger said with a shrug. “I have never made excuses for you.”
Noelle sighed. “Yes, I suppose that is true.”
Rosella took a seat beside Noelle on the settee, her mind already formulating a plan. She needed to interact with Lucian, and the billiards room offered the perfect opportunity. If only she could plant the idea in Noelle’s mind…
“This is lovely,” Rosella said. “The Christmastide gathering is always one of my favorite times of the year.”
“As it is mine,” Noelle agreed. “And I am so pleased Asher and I have the honor of hosting this year.”
