Page 53 of The Earl Takes All
Presently they were all sitting in a circle. The object was not to smile. Generally, people had a very difficult time not twitching their lips or even chortling when they knew they weren’t supposed to. But not these gents. So far, she and Minerva had alternated losing rounds while the men just sat there stoically, their mouths not even quivering with the need to lift up.
To make matters worse, staring at Albert’s beautiful mouth, waiting for him to smile, only made her recall how heated his kisses had been last night, which in turn made her want to get up, settle on his lap, and latch her mouth onto his until he carried her from the room.
“Actually, we’re very good at it,” he said now, his face set in a smug expression that she thought her kiss would utterly destroy. “We’ve yet to smile.”
“But you’re supposed to!” she screeched in frustration.
“Except you told us not to.”
Minerva started laughing, and Julia glared at her. “Help me out here.”
“Perhaps we should give charades a go.”
“We don’t have an even number for charades.” She flung her hand toward the viscount. “If Locksley would only marry—”
He made a choking cough that strongly resembled a strangle. “Now you sound like my father.”
“Has he been after you to marry?” Minerva asked.
“Relentlessly. I was hoping that here, at least, I might find some respite from the constant nagging.”
“Only marriage will accomplish that,” Julia assured him. “Minerva and I shall make it our mission this Season to find you a woman to love.”
“Oh, I’d never marry a woman I could love. If I learned anything at all from my father it is that along that path lies madness.”
Julia shuddered at the words. “Only if she dies young.”
“Which always is a possibility.”
“That’s a morbid way to go through life. No wonder you’re atrocious at this game.”
“As Grey pointed out, we’ve been winning.”
At a loss for any other words she released a deep breath of frustration.
“You have to understand, Julia, we didn’t play parlor games on Christmas,” Albert said kindly.
In the past, it had been only her, Albert, and Edward here for the holiday, which was the reason she’d invited his friends. There was no hope for it. This year would be different from years past. She just hadn’t wanted the difference to be melancholy. “What did you do?”
He shrugged. “Ran wild mostly. No parlor games, no tree, no evergreen boughs or ribbons, no feast. No Father Christmas. For us it was a day like any other.”
“Carolers from the village certainly never ventured to Havisham,” Ashebury said.
“That makes me sad.” She shifted her gaze to her husband. “You knew it would. I suppose that’s why you never told me about it before.”
“You shouldn’t be sad. We weren’t.”
“But you must have had memories of Christmas with your parents.”
“We did. They were magical, special. Marsden offered us nothing to replace them. In a way that was a gift.”
She looked at Locksley. “So you were grown before you experienced a Christmas celebration?”
Appearing uncomfortable, he shifted in his chair. “This is actually my first opportunity to partake in the traditions of the season, and to be quite honest, I’m not particularly fond of the parlor games.”
She fluttered her hand in the air. “Off with you all! Go have your port and cigars, while Minerva and I—”
“Join us,” Albert said, standing and extending his hand. “It’s Christmas; let’s start a new tradition.”
