Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,317

hide the worn cuffs and hem. Buying new gowns seemed an unnecessary expense when much of their time was spent at home.

With dark hair and brown eyes, she felt much like a country mouse when compared to Emma. Though she loved her cousin, it was impossible not to look at herself and her situation next to Emma’s and feel a certain lack.

Lucy reminded herself she had much to be grateful for and smiled as she reached over to pat her aunt’s arm, her heart hopeful that this Christmas might be different. “Wherever you will feel most comfortable.”

“You are a dear, Lucy.” Aunt Edith gripped Lucy’s hand. “Whatever would I do without you?”

Her appreciation was part of what kept Lucy at her side. Besides, where else would she go? What else would she do? Her parents’ home had gone to her father’s younger brother, who had a family of his own to raise along with his wife’s siblings.

In truth, after all these years of living a quiet existence in the country interspersed with only a few family gatherings and one trip to the coast to visit her aunt’s friend, reaching for more filled her with trepidation.

A rare gleam of excitement sparkled in her aunt’s brown eyes and lit a similar feeling in Lucy. “Christmas will soon be upon us,” her aunt said, “and it’s been years since we celebrated with the rest of the family. I think we should go.” She glanced at Emma. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble to have us.”

“Not at all.” Emma beamed at them and clapped her hands twice. “We would be delighted if you came.”

“We must decide what to pack, Lucy.” Aunt Edith tapped a finger on her chin as she contemplated her choices.

“Pack something warm as the farmer down the road insists we’ll have snow this Christmas,” Emma advised. “Father is having the ice-skating pond prepared this weekend, so bring your skates as well.”

Lucy wondered if she still had hers. It had been a long time since she’d skated, but she used to love gliding over the ice and had been quite good at it.

“Will the gathering be large?” Aunt Edith asked.

“The house will be full to the rafters,” Emma said. “Several guests are staying nearby and will come for many of the parties.”

“Oh my.” Her aunt’s delight made Lucy smile.

“There will be a Christmas Eve ball, of course, so bring a gown for that,” Emma added.

Lucy considered her limited wardrobe. Though she’d attended a few local balls over the years, she well knew her cousin’s would be much more formal.

Her concern must’ve shown on her face, for Emma waved a graceful hand in dismissal. “You and I are of similar size, dear Lucy. You’re welcome to borrow one of mine.”

“There won’t be time to have one made I’m afraid,” Aunt Edith said with a shake of her head.

The few gowns Lucy owned were a result of the annual visit from the local dressmaker. Her aunt lived a modest life as a widow, and while she never seemed to worry over money, neither did she spend much.

“What day will you come?” Emma asked.

They discussed the details then Emma rose. “I should return home. There’s much to be done before the party and Mother needs my help.” She bid her aunt goodbye with a kiss on her cheek, and Lucy walked her down the stairs to the front entrance.

“I’m still surprised you journeyed all this way,” Lucy said, curious as to why her cousin was so adamant that they attend.

“I knew Aunt Edith wouldn’t allow you to come on your own,” Emma said, her tone low to keep their conversation private, “and I so wanted you to join us. It’s been too long since we spent the holidays together. We used to have such fun, remember?”

“Yes,” Lucy agreed. “We truly did.” Perhaps she’d imagined Emma’s motivation, thinking the worst when it wasn’t deserved.

“I’m so pleased you’ll be there.” Emma leaned close. “I’m going to need your help.”

“Oh?” A trickle of concern ran along Lucy’s skin.

“You see, several gentlemen are pursuing me.” She gave a mischievous smile. “I have yet to determine if I wish to be caught. Mr. Hugh Raybourne is a terrible rogue, but charming and handsome in a rugged manner. Then there’s Viscount Jameson who is fine to look at and daring. Mr. Charles Barnes has a shy, polite manner I find infinitely appealing.”

“How would I help?”

“All the gentlemen have accepted our invitation. I intend to spend time with each one before