Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,343

aching head. Although those same symptoms appeared frequently with her aunt.

“No. That won’t help.”

“Very well. Shall I read for a time?” Lucy tapped the leather-bound volume that lay on the side table. “We were just reaching the exciting part of the novel.”

One advantage of dealing with an ailing Aunt Edith at Waverly House was the massive library. Lucy loved to read, but she and her aunt quickly went through the books offered by the tiny version of a lending library located within the haberdasher in their village. Reading the same stories over and over wasn’t as pleasurable as diving into a new tale.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” her aunt said with a sniffle. “You should join the other young people.”

The reminder of what she was missing sent a wistful twinge through Lucy. Her aunt’s condition had kept the pair in her bedchamber, eating their dinner here rather than with the others.

Just when Lucy had decided to enjoy herself, fate stepped in and closed the door. Should she take that as a sign to reel in her wishes? Perhaps she should be satisfied with her life as it was and avoid new experiences, including time with Hugh.

“Not at all.” Lucy drew a chair forward and sat, reaching for the book. “I’m happy to keep you company. I’m just sorry you’re not feeling yourself.”

“Mayhap we should’ve remained home for the holiday,” her aunt said. “I’m much more comfortable there.”

“Why don’t we think about that on the morrow? For now, we’ll read about Miss Merriweather’s terrible predicament.” Lucy’s chest tightened at the worry that Aunt Edith would decide they should return home before the house party ended.

But perhaps that would be for the best. Why bother to explore her feelings for Hugh or hope to share another kiss with him?

Her life had been fine before she’d met him, Lucy reminded herself as she opened the book. She had been content with her lot. Mostly. If they were home, she wouldn’t feel so torn between assisting her aunt and joining the guests. Nor would she so frequently compare her life to Emma’s, wishing for things that weren’t to be.

Half an hour later, Lucy decided Miss Merriweather was a ninny. What woman in her right mind ventured outside at night in a storm to search for the source of a strange noise? The lantern she held would no doubt be blown out by the wind or rain she was presently enduring.

Luckily, Aunt Edith had fallen asleep, so Lucy didn’t have to see whether she was right. She marked their page and shut the book, watching her aunt sleep for a moment. By her slow, even breaths, it seemed like she would rest through the night.

Lucy checked her pin watch, realizing the hour had grown late. She had no desire to seek out Emma and the others if they were even still together.

Yet her restlessness indicated she wasn’t ready to turn in for the night. She added more coals to the fire to keep her aunt warm and closed the door behind her.

The house was quiet, suggesting most of the guests had retired. Deciding to read for a time until she felt sleepier, she collected a book from her bedchamber and sought the small sitting room down the hall.

Coals glowed in the fireplace, casting a golden light around the room. She lit the candles in the candlesticks nearby so she could see better and sat on the settee before the fire, allowing the peace and quiet to settle over her.

She read the first few pages of the mystery, but her thoughts weren’t on the story. She tipped her head back against the cushion only to pause at the sight of the kissing bough directly overhead. Someone had hung it above the settee rather than near the window where Emma had placed it. Lucy didn’t care for the new position since she often sat in this spot.

With a sigh, she set aside the book, removed her slippers, and stood on the settee, just able to reach the ball. She removed it from the hook then pulled a chair to the window.

She climbed onto the cushion with the ball, raising onto her toes to reach the hook only to hear a sound from nearby, causing her to lose her balance.

Lucy gasped, arms flailing along with the ball as she tried to catch herself.

Strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her to safety. “Lucy!”

She stared at her rescuer, mortified to see it was Hugh.

“Are you all right?” he