Mistletoe Moment by Bancroft Blair

Author:Bancroft, Blair
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christmas story, historical romance, regency romance, second chances, regency historical, christmas novella, regency christmas
Publisher: Blair Bancroft

Chapter Six

“Pamela, my dear, a moment of your time, if you please.” Honoria Whitehurst’s voice, echoing from the breakfast room, brought Pamela to a halt on the last step of Appledown’s graceful staircase. Gustily, she sighed. She so wished to ride out this morning in hope of another “chance” encounter with Mr. Forsythe. Her new riding habit had arrived on Saturday, and this would be the first time she would wear it. Constructed of a positively shimmering blue-green velvet, enhanced by dark blue piping and a military-style shako to match, the ensemble set off her eyes to perfection.

Drat! She’d been so certain her new look would break through Mr. Forsythe’s reserve, and now . . .

Carrying her long, heavy riding skirt in her left hand, Pamela trudged the few steps down the corridor to the breakfast room. Aren’t you a sight? mocked her inner voice. The girl who vowed never to marry mooning over a half-pay officer who has to force himself to any expression lighter than a glower.

Pamela paused in the doorway, schooling her face to a pleasant façade. “Good morning, aunt. You wished to speak with me?”

“Good morning, dear. Am I correct that you found only three clusters of mistletoe?”

“Yes, ma’am. Now that the leaves are off the apple trees, the number of clusters is clear. But surely three is enough? Each is more than a foot across and seems to have many berries.”

Honoria frowned. “I suppose it is quite foolish to hope for more. But ’tis such a wonderful old custom, kissing beneath the mistletoe. I had thought to make our ball quite merry.”

“Mistletoe is also quite rare, aunt, which is likely why the Druids held it sacred.”

Honoria offered a wry smile. “They do say there’s no fool like an old fool, but I am determined to fill this house with romance. Kisses for everyone from Nan in the kitchen to the squire and his wife and, yes”—Honoria’s eyes sparkled—even the vicar and Mrs. Chillworth. A worthy goal, do you not agree, Pamela, my dear?”

The vision of the staid Mr. Chillworth kissing his shrew of a wife beneath the mistletoe was enough to send both ladies into whoops. Pamela had to swallow a giggle and wipe tears from her eyes before she could say, “I’ll be happy to search out more.” She struck a grand pose, the voluminous folds of her habit forming a shimmering wing as she held them out to the left. “The great mistletoe hunt,” she declaimed. “I shall search every tree on Appledown Farm.” And have the perfect excuse to ask Mr. Forsythe for access to Mottram lands. A splendid idea. And wicked, quite wicked.

Ah! Was that a knowing smile that just flickered across her aunt’s face? Surely not. A guilty conscience had her seeing expressions that were never there.

“Pray do not worry if I stay out longer than usual,” Pamela told her aunt before sweeping along the corridor to the entry hall and hurrying down the front steps as fast as her riding skirts would allow.

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