The Last Chance Christmas Ball by Mary Jo Putney

Author:Mary Jo Putney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2015-08-02T16:00:00+00:00

OLD FLAMES DANCE

Cara Elliott

In the darkest hours of winter, old flames slowly dance to life . . .

CHAPTER ONE

December 26, two days before the ball

Memories. Keeping her snow-cold hands fisted deep in the folds of her heavy traveling cloak, Lily Tremaine glanced around the cavernous entrance hall, taking in the ancestral portraits, the ancient weapons, the stag head paying homage to the hunting prowess of a long-dead Earl of Holbourne. She had forgotten how the trappings of tradition hung so very heavily in the grand houses of England. Ten years in India had hazed her recollections. Life had been so different there—blazing colors, exotic customs, piquant spices, searing heat....

Her fingers curled in the blessedly thick wool, seeking a whisper of warmth. Oh, what she wouldn’t give at this moment for blade of tropical sunlight to cut through the chill of a northern winter.

Had it been a mistake to come here? Some memories were best left buried in the past.

A discreet cough drew her from her reveries.

“Her ladyship will be with you shortly, madam,” intoned the portly butler, who just now had returned from informing the countess of her arrival.

“Thank you.” She drew a deep breath, hoping the traditional Christmas scents of fresh-cut evergreens would help loosen the clench in her chest. But despite the festive garlands of pine and holly decorating the walls—

Hearing the sound of rapidly approaching steps, Lily turned to see a flutter of pale silk emerge from the corridor behind the butler.

“Welcome to the Abbey, Mrs. Tremaine! I am much relieved that you have finally arrived.” Lady Holbourne gave a graceful wave of her hand, punctuating her cluck of concern. “What beastly weather. I am so sorry your carriage was delayed by a broken spoke.”

“Thank you,” she responded. “The inn provided a very comfortable parlor for the wait. And it was kind of them to send a post boy on horseback to alert you to the delay.”

“Mr. Fowlkes is an old friend of the family. He has tended to many of our traveling guests over the years. But enough on the travails of your journey. Now that you are finally here, we must get you comfortably settled.”

Holding back a wry smile, Lily murmured a polite reply. Clearly, the countess did not recognize her face or her surname. A decade of sun had darkened her complexion to a very un-English hue, and time had dulled the first bloom of youth. As for her name, she had been twice widowed, so Tremaine meant nothing to any of the Holbournes, save for her elderly godmother, the dowager....

“My mother-in-law will be upset that she’s missed your arrival, but she was feeling a trifle fatigued after dinner and chose to retire early.”

“I do hope Lady Holly is in good health,” said Lily.

“Be assured she is as sturdy as an ox,” replied the countess dryly. She gestured for the footmen who had just entered with Lily’s trunks to proceed up the stairs. “And greatly looking forward to having a houseful of guests for the Christmas ball.

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