face as she stood shoulder to shoulder with her sister, her clear blue eyes looking into Anne’s.
Not knowing what to say, Anne stared at her two beloved cousins. She could not deny that what they said made sense; however, there was one aspect neither one of them had considered yet. What if Tobias would forever see her as Little Annie? What if their kiss would prove that she loved him, but he would forever see her as the little sister who’d discovered his secret hiding place for the biscuits they’d stolen from the kitchen and eaten them all? What if Tobias could never see anything more in her?
What if kissing him would break her heart?
Chapter Two ~ A Disaster Waiting to Happen
Near Windmere Park, England, December 1801 (or a variation thereof)
A few days before Christmas
Anne was tempted to throw herself out of the moving carriage. No doubt, the heaps of snow covering the countryside would dampen her fall, allowing her to emerge from such an admittedly drastic measure unscathed. Then she could pick herself up, dust herself off and begin walking back the way they’d come.
Back home.
Away from Windmere Park.
Away from Louisa and Leonora.
Away from…Tobias.
Admittedly, she might freeze to death; however, at present, Anne couldn’t say that the thought bothered her overly much. Indeed, any place seemed preferable to being locked up in a moving carriage with her two beloved cousins as well as their snoozing grandmother on her way to Windmere Park, Lord Archibald’s Christmas house party and all that it entailed looming in her future. Why on earth had she agreed to attend? She had to have been mad; after all, this couldn’t end in anything else but utter disaster.
Louisa and Leonora would make certain of that.
“How soon would you say we perform this experiment?” Leonora asked her sister as she tapped the back of her pencil on the notebook in her lap. “I do not believe it wise to rush things.”
Seated next to a squirming Anne, Louisa laughed, “Oh, I wouldn’t mind pushing them both under the mistletoe the moment we arrive.” She grinned at Anne’s shocked expression. “The sooner, the better.”
Leonora frowned. “It ought not be too obvious,” she pointed out. “After all, no one ought to know what we’re about. If indeed Anne realizes she sees him as a brother, it needs to be clear that the only reason they kissed was because they happened to end up under the mistletoe. Nothing more.”
“Should we make a wager?” Louisa suggested with a wide, wicked grin, her strawberry blond curls tucked under a fur-lined hood. “Brother or no brother?”
Leonora frowned. “Ladies are not to wager,” she pointed out; still, a hint of intrigue rang in her voice.
Anne heaved a deep sigh. “Would it make any difference if I objected to this?” she asked, looking from one cousin to the other.
“To the wager or the experiment?” Leonora asked to clarify.
“Both.”
Louisa shook her head, laughing. “Not in the slightest. After all, you agreed to this.”
“Did I?” Anne asked with a frown. “I don’t recall that I did. What I do recall is objecting to this from the start.”
Pencil balanced between two fingers, Leonora placed the tip of her forefinger on her lips, her blue eyes thoughtful. “She’s right,” she told her sister. “She never agreed.”
Louisa shrugged. “A minor detail.” She grinned at Anne. “One to be neglected. Now,” her gaze moved back to Leonora, “how do we do this? I’m willing to wait a day or two, but that’s all I’m willing to concede.” She eagerly rubbed her hands together, a gesture that made her look almost villainous. “If we can’t push them, then we need to lure Tobias.” She looked at Anne. “You’ll be waiting under the mistletoe, and we’ll make up some excuse to send him your way.”
Anne was about to object−again!−when Leo stilled, pencil frozen in mid-air. “What if, before Tobias can reach her side, another gentleman happens to step under the mistletoe with her?”
Louisa frowned, clearly displeased to have a flaw pointed out in her plan. “Then we simply have to time it well.” She looked at Anne. “The second you see him move toward you, you step forward and under the mistletoe.” She sighed rather exasperatedly, “Seriously, ladies, it cannot be that hard. Countless people get kissed under a sprig of mistletoe every year.”
Leonora nodded. “Yes, but perhaps not by the right person.” Her blue gaze shifted to Anne. “I hear Lord Gillingham will be in attendance as well.”
Anne groaned…without knowing why. After all,