Music and Mistletoe by Sahara Kelly

Author:Sahara Kelly
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: 0
Published: 2018-12-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Grace didn’t know how—or where—to start.

It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to remember the bad times, that recalling them now was as if the doors of her mind needed oiling before they would open.

So she sat for a minute or two, enjoying the warmth of the fire on her legs and the warmth of a man everywhere else.

It was a strange moment; nobody had held her or cuddled her for the longest time, if ever. Max hugged her, of course, but a brotherly display of affection couldn’t come near to matching the exquisite sensation of being nestled against a charming gentleman in an outrageously shocking way.

A sigh caught in her throat. Then she steeled herself. “I suppose it’s fair to say that I met Martin Chaney when I was nineteen.”

It was a start, and surprisingly enough, she got the words out without difficulty.

“He was…he was so handsome. Well-spoken and well-read; his family lived not far from Seton Hall and we’d crossed paths as neighbourhood children do—at county fairs, market days, and occasionally at some church fete or other, so we weren’t complete strangers. You can imagine the sort of thing. Happens all the time.”

“Was your marriage arranged?”

“At first glance, you might say that was the case. My parents and his parents were better acquainted, and given how close we were in age, it seemed sensible to put us together and see what transpired. It was a sensible alliance, but there was no pressure from either family.” She thought about it for a moment. “If we’d not liked each other, I doubt any match would have been made. But that wasn’t a problem.”

“You found him acceptable, then?”

“I did,” she answered quietly. “And more. I was at that stage of my youth when romance was all; to be swept away by love’s sweet passion was an experience much desired by all of us budding debutantes. So by the time we’d had our first dance together, a debut of sorts as a couple, I was already half in love with him.”

“Not surprising,” soothed Perry. “A handsome young man and a beautiful young woman? Just the sort of thing that fairy tales are made of.”

She nodded. “Indeed. And that is an excellent summation of our year together. A true fairy tale. At least how I perceived it. We moved to a house in London that his aunt had owned; I did all the things young brides are supposed to do—you must know—visits, and teas, and outings to the country. He was involved with several members of Parliament. I remember thinking at the time that he had his own growing political ambitions. Sometimes he would accompany me of an evening, and when he could not attend, I would ask Max to be my escort. There were more than a few of those…”

“Why did he not attend, Grace?”

She shook her head. “Most often it was a serious headache—and he would turn quite white during those periods, refusing to stay in a room where the curtains allowed in the sunlight.

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