Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,325

to see the smooth sheen of ice beckoning her.

Her uncle had placed benches for the skaters to sit and fasten their skates, and she pulled off her muff and gloves to strap on her blades. Soon she was taking her first stilted glides, finding her balance after a couple of turns around the frozen pond.

The skating area wasn’t a true pond, only a low spot her uncle flooded for the purpose of skating. It was thick enough to provide a good surface but shallow enough to easily freeze given the cold temperatures of the past fortnight. There was no worry over skating on a thin spot and falling through.

Lucy picked up her speed, the cold wind stinging her nose and cheeks. To test her skills, she managed an awkward turn and then a smoother one, feeling more graceful as she moved across the ice.

Oh, it was truly delightful. How she’d missed this feeling. The freedom was thrilling. She couldn’t imagine a dance being this enjoyable.

She’d been skating for half an hour when she saw a tall figure striding toward her. Resigned to having her solitude disturbed, she slowed and approached to greet him, her displeasure fading as she recognized Mr. Raybourne.

“Good morning,” he called, his hands buried in his greatcoat. “You have a talent for skating.”

“Thank you. Emma and I used to skate in our youth.”

“And you’re an early riser.”

“You must be as well.” She was surprised as many of the men had played billiards and cards late into the night. None of the effects of a late night were visible on his countenance.

“Seems a waste of the country air to remain abed on a fine morning.” His gaze took in the fields before returning to her, giving her heart a little bump.

“I agree.” She hesitated then asked, “Did you bring your skates this morning?”

“No, I was out for a walk when I saw you.”

“I won’t be joining the party later, so I decided to skate while I could.” She backed up slightly then skated forward again, unable to stand still.

“Perhaps tomorrow morning I’ll join you if you don’t mind some company?”

“I’d be delighted.” And she realized she would. If one of the guests were to join her, Mr. Raybourne was the ideal choice. Conversation with him was relatively easy though she couldn’t deny the awareness she felt when in his presence.

Even now, she felt warm from the inside out, and it had little to do with skating. Was this how Emma felt when she was with him? The thought sobered her. She needed to remember her purpose here. Skating with him would provide a chance for her to form an opinion about him.

“I look forward to it.” With a dose of that smile and a touch to the brim of his hat, he turned and continued his walk, his broad shoulders a sight to behold.

Lucy bit her lip, excited at the prospect of skating with him come morning. How was she going to curtail her feelings and keep her purpose in mind?

Hugh sorely missed Miss Gray’s presence during the ice-skating outing later in the day. She’d looked so happy before he’d interrupted her that he was almost sorry he had. Almost.

Now as the group bundled into the wagon that would return them to the house where warm beverages awaited them, he was pleased he’d had time with her earlier.

He hadn’t been able to resist questioning Miss Waverly about her whereabouts, but his inquiry had been met with a vague response. “I’m sure she’s caring for Aunt Edith. That’s how she spends every day.”

Hugh didn’t understand the family. Why wouldn’t they take turns with their aunt, especially when they were all staying under the same roof? Why did it fall to Miss Gray?

Miss Waverly sat by him in the wagon and the brief interlude was enjoyable. But he had no doubt the skating excursion would’ve been more fun for everyone if Miss Gray had been there. She’d made certain all the guests were enjoying themselves last evening. But today, several had regained their awkwardness and skated alone, something Miss Waverly either didn’t notice or didn’t care about.

Hugh frowned. Why was he suddenly aware of other people’s happiness?

“You’re a fine skater, Mr. Raybourne.” Miss Waverly placed her gloved hand under his arm while the wagon bumped along toward the house.

The contact surprised him, but when she smiled up at him, her blue eyes sparkling, he was even more surprised to realize he felt nothing.

“As are you, Miss Waverly.” This was his