Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,239

was no longer at his side and motioned for her to join them. She shook her head. “I will wait for you.”

Julius’s mother approached. Her towering height and regal bearing could be intimidating, but a smile softened her face. “You and my son appear to be having a merry Christmas.”

“It is the best Christmas I’ve ever had, my lady.”

“How splendid to hear.” Lady Seabrook flicked her gaze toward her son. “I see Julius has been waylaid. Did he present you with his gift?”

“Yes, and it is lovely.” Bess smiled, hoping she’d not hurt Julius’s feelings. The necklace was a thoughtful gift. “I asked him to keep the cameo safely tucked in his pocket until the festivities end.”

Lady Seabrook nodded in approval. “A sensible young woman. Lord Seabrook will be pleased to know Julius has partnered with a lady such as yourself.”

Bess assumed she was referring to their business venture, because no mother would speak casually about a son’s romantic affairs.

“I am looking forward to a long and prosperous future together,” Bess said.

“Thank heavens. This might be my best Christmas.” Lady Seabrook, whom Bess had been told rarely smiled, laughed. One could describe her as giddy. Too many glasses of mulled wine perhaps?

“If you will excuse me, Lady Hadley, I must allow the Duke of Foxhaven to escort me to supper before our guests grow restless.”

Julius returned to Bess’s side shortly after his mother left. Bess scrunched her nose when he met her gaze.

He chuckled. “What have I done wrong now?”

“You had me afraid of your mother with all your tales.” She linked their arms. “I find her delightful.”

Chapter Twelve

Julius stole another glance at Bess before spearing a Brussels sprout with his fork. She was engaged in pleasant conversation with his uncle seated on her right, and one would never know she’d been in tears less than an hour earlier. The situation was puzzling, and her refusal to confide in Julius came as a blow to his confidence.

Last night they had talked until dawn about everything—her favorite books, trips she’d taken with her husband, the harmless pranks her younger brothers had played on one another. Had Julius missed a clue that could have predicted her reaction to the necklace?

His sisters often claimed he was incapable of noticing subtle nuances, but their accusations were bollocks. He’d mastered the skill of reading others at Oxford when he and his classmates had gambled with homemade sweets and risked losing them on a hand of vingt-et-un.

With his sisters, he chose to ignore signs one or more of them was upset. Otherwise, he was dragged into a conflict that did not involve him. In the end, he always came out the loser when the quarreling sisters teamed up to accuse him of showing favoritism. He tried hard to read Bess, though. He wanted to learn the meaning behind every mannerism and champion her causes whenever she was wronged.

He slanted another look in her direction and was treated to a view of the back of her head. He suppressed a sigh of frustration.

“I’ve never seen Uncle Gunther say more than a few words to anyone,” his sister Mercedes said. “I think he has taken a liking to Lady Hadley.”

Julius’s older sister was seated on his left and hadn’t missed his growing agitation with their uncle monopolizing Bess’s attention. He was under no allusions Ammie had kept his secret, at least not from their eldest sister or her twin. There was a chance the two youngest didn’t know he was heels over arse for Bess, but he wouldn’t gamble on it.

He lowered his voice to minimize others overhearing. “If Gunther wasn’t twice her age and still chasing after Lady Kelynen’s skirts, I would be jealous.”

“Now Julius”—Mercedes performed a perfect imitation of their mother, complete with pinched mouth—“as you are aware, Uncle Gunther and the dowager viscountess enjoy a dear friendship and nothing more.”

“A special friendship,” he countered. “Mother always calls it special.”

“Oh, that is right.” Mercedes’s dark eyes glittered under the chandelier light. She, like all of his sisters besides Ammie, shared his coloring. “I assume the word is a euphemism?”

His sister assumed correctly. Their bachelor uncle’s friendship with the widow spanned two decades and was exceedingly friendly. Julius caught Gunther sneaking from the lady’s bedchamber last night after escorting Bess to her door. His uncle startled then told a rambling story about sleepwalking.

Julius had winked and said, “I haven’t seen a thing, Uncle. I’m sleepwalking, too.”

Gunther chuckled, slapped him on the shoulder, and mumbled, “Good boy.”

Julius’s father