She hadn’t wanted it to end—the intimacy of his lips, and his body pressed to hers. All power and heat, holding her aloft with ease, his hands firmly where they had no right to be, and his mouth—grazing the softness of her neck and breasts.
She’d done nothing to stop him—even though she’d known the kiss was reckless; not just because someone might have seen them, but reckless in other ways.
Sitting on the bed, she reached for Minnie, resting her forehead against the terrier’s soft tummy.
If I do have any intention of finding a husband, I mustn’t let this happen. I might summon my courage to enter Society again. Might find a man who could be a true companion; a man who cares more for what I am myself than the reputation that follows me.
A man like Burnell?
She needed to put that thought out of her mind.
She’d been upset and he’d comforted her in the way most natural to him.
Sitting up, she caught sight of the book once more—The Lady’s Guide to All Things Useful. Was there a chapter on husbands? Flicking through the pages, she found what she was looking for:
A woman may live her life perfectly without any husband at all, if she has the companionship of friends and the satisfaction of intellectual pursuits.
Where we take a husband, we must remember that he holds our happiness in his hands—and no woman can be content wedded to the wrong man.
Choose wisely and well—for marriage is a union not just of bodies but of minds and hearts. Its foundation lies not in passion but in respect, and love which cares as much for another’s happiness as our own.
Well, there was nothing revelatory in that.
Cornelia tossed the book aside again. She didn’t need a manual to remind her that passion formed shaky ground upon which to build a future with someone.
She’d eat her shoe before giving Lady Pippsbury the satisfaction of thinking she couldn’t hold Burnell’s attention, but she would need to guard her heart in the process. Having Burnell appear besotted to pique the curiosity of other men was one thing. It would be quite another to believe that this was anything more than a charade.
Chapter 12
Late, the next morning…
Cornelia knew she must face not only Burnell but her hosts and fellow guests, or appear unutterably rude.
Trays of spiced punch and hot mince pies circulated amidst those gathered in the grand hall. Like herself, they’d been instructed to wear their warmest clothes, to take part in a contest of sorts.
Failing to see Burnell among them, Cornelia cursed him for abandoning her again. They’d hardly convince anyone of him being head-over-heels if he kept finding diversion elsewhere.
“Now, remember, Cornelia,” Blanche patted her arm. “Whatever is afoot, men like a challenge. This is a contest in more ways than one, and lions chase hardest when the gazelle is running. Mr. Burnell is not the only cat on the prowl.” Blanche winked, threatening to unhinge one false eyelash.
All fell silent as the duke made to speak. “Although Lady Studborne won’t be able to join wholeheartedly in the merriment, she’s determined to entertain us.” He looked fondly at his wife. “With the snow deep as it is, the usual riding pursuits will be difficult, but as the snowfall has ceased for the time being and the sun is shining, we may try our hand at sleighing.”
There was a flurry of animation among the Pippsbury girls.
“The groundsmen have been busy this morning, setting out flags around the lake and lower meadows, and driving the first sleigh to make a pathway, so no-one will go astray. It should take no more than half an hour but Melinda and Tommy, who’ll be your timekeepers, are convinced it can be done quicker.”
Armed with stopwatches, the children gazed up at their father. “And you’ll take us out at the end, Papa, so we can beat the best time?” Melinda’s eyes were alight with excitement.
“I certainly shall.” The duke placed a hand on each of their shoulders.
“As you see, it behoves you—” Lord Studborne cast a half-apologetic look at the assembly, “to ensure a worthy challenge is set.”
“Admirable idea!” declared Colonel Faversham. Nancy had assured Cornelia that the hairpiece was back with its rightful owner but it seemed he was taking no chance of losing it today, wearing a snug deerstalker hat, with the ear flaps secured beneath his chin. “If we might choose our racing partners, I call dibs on the Misses Everly. I took a gander earlier; plenty of room for three upfront, I’d say.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
The baron stepped forward. “And I’ll drive Mrs. Mortmain.” Coming to her side, his eyes were flashing with a determination Cornelia could hardly fathom. “Burnell can’t hog you for every bit of festive fun. No ring on the finger yet, hey! Must let other fellows get a run at you!”
Cornelia fought a wave of disgust. It was barely eleven in the morning but the baron reeked of whisky. Either he’d drunk late into the night or had begun again at breakfast.
“Actually, Billingsworth—” Lord Studborne smiled in a conciliatory manner, “I hear Mrs. Bongorge is an expert with the reins. As modern men, we might agree to let the ladies drive.”
“How marvellous!” Mrs. Bongorge clapped her hands. “Estela, you must come with us of course.”
The baron could hardly argue.
“Perhaps you’d set out with me, Mrs. Mortmain.” Lord Fairlea offered his arm but, before Cornelia could accept, the duke interjected. “Two of the Misses Pippsbury might join your sleigh, Baron, leaving room for the marchioness and her other daughters to drive with Lord Fairlea.”
Cornelia’s heart sank. Lord Fairlea was the only one she might consider as a possible suitor and, as Burnell hadn’t bothered to join them, she supposed she’d be left with Reverend Nossle and his wife.
The Reverend was setting upon his third mince pie however, and seemed to have no desire to venture into the snow, while Mrs. Nossle was protesting a delicate chest and a preference for keeping Lady Studborne company indoors.
Cornelia had resigned herself to joining her aunts and the colonel when all eyes turned towards the grand staircase.
Descending nonchalantly, Burnell gave Cornelia a slow smile and inclined his head politely to the others.
She ought to be cross with him but her relief was far stronger than her annoyance. More than that, the very sight of him made it suddenly difficult to breathe.
Do get a hold of yourself. Cornelia gave the back of her hand a pinch. It’s all for show, remember.
“Hope I’m not too late to partake of the fun.” Reaching her side, he dropped his voice low. “Glad to see you dressed more sensibly than on your last trip outside.”
By the look of the rambling garlands of holly and ivy decorating the inside of each sleigh, it appeared the children had been given liberty with their paints. Meanwhile, ribboned bells interwoven through the harnesses created a charming tinkling as each pair of horses set off.
The duke and duchess stood on the front steps behind Thomas and Melinda, who waved furiously, shouting encouragement.
“The reins are yours, I believe.” Burnell looped them through her hands so they wouldn’t slip.