Meet Me at Christmas (Holidays for Spinsters Book 3) by Bianca Blythe

Author:Bianca Blythe [Blythe, Bianca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christmas regency romance, holiday romance, spy, epistolary romance, spinster, wallflower, bluestocking
Publisher: Somerset Park Press
Published: 2022-12-05T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

Beautiful was an understatement for how Miss Howard looked. The word was entirely lacking in ability to describe her accurately. She resembled a goddess.

Her light brown hair glistened under the candlelight, and her cheeks were a pretty pink color. Her eyes were almost purple. In fact, he longed to hold her in his arms so he could more accurately observe them.

“Did you have a nice day?” she asked.

“Er—yes.”

“What did you do?”

“We went fishing,” Prince Rafael declared. “But we didn’t catch anything.” He glowered at Titus. “I knew it would be a waste of time.”

“I thought it would be a nice, peaceful activity.” Titus grinned. “I enjoyed it.”

“I am fond of peaceful activities as well,” Hazel confessed.

“Ah. Then tomorrow I shall take you fishing,” Titus suggested.

Miss Howard widened her eyes, and even Prince Rafael shot Titus a strange look.

“Or not,” Titus declared hastily.

“Would you like some mulled wine?” Prince Rafael suggested.

“Alcohol? That’s unnecessary.”

“Nonsense,” Prince Rafael said. “I think it’s needed now.”

Titus’s mouth dropped open.

“I only meant because it’s still technically Christmas,” Prince Rafael said. “You won’t be able to have it in a week.”

The prince handed Titus the drink. It smelled cloyingly sweet, quite unlike wine should smell, and his glass was hot to the touch.

Prince Rafael gave Titus an innocent glance. “It’s superb.”

Titus had serious doubts.

Miss Howard, though, didn’t look skeptical when Prince Rafael handed her a drink. Since she was nothing if not sensible, Titus decided he might as well sip the mulled wine, even though he’d been successfully avoiding doing so all season.

Titus was a frequent addition to balls and dinner parties, a fact that perpetually delighted hostesses, though in truth he only attended because he thought it necessary to gauge the ton’s thoughts on the war. After all, the upper echelon was in possession of money, and nobody in the British government wanted them to start pouring it into France. It was important to know if any new people with French accents were introduced at events so he could ascertain they were not present to spy on the English.

Normally Titus availed himself of black coffee at balls when not in the mood to carry a crystal tumbler filled with brandy around the ballroom.

He clinked his glass with Miss Howard, and then, when the prince smirked, he hastily clinked his glass with his as well. If only he hadn’t brought the prince to the tea room. It was no good the prince knew he’d been secretly writing to Miss Howard for a year. It was the sort of thing the prince might share when there was an awkward pause in the conversation.

“It’s a ball,” the prince said. “And Miss Dalton is playing dance music.”

“Well—”

The prince grinned, then bowed to Miss Howard. His Miss Howard. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Her mouth fell open slightly, but then she smiled. “Very well.”

The prince shot Titus a proud grin, then led her closer to the piano.

And then Titus watched her dance.

With the prince.

Who was decidedly not him.

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