Merry Misrule - St. Clair, Ellie Page 0,28
she was falling directly into?
She pushed her plate away on the table in front of her as she stood. But when she rounded the small settee, she walked right into the man who wouldn’t leave her thoughts.
“Joanna,” he murmured, his voice low in her ear, and she wished that he didn’t look so dashingly handsome in his black breeches, buff waistcoat, and navy jacket.
“Elijah,” she said, attempting to keep her tone emotionless, but when she looked up, he was wearing that I-know-exactly-what-you-are-thinking-about-but-trying-to-deny smile that was both maddening and endearing.
“Ready for a game?” he asked, arching a brow, and she looked up at him quizzically.
“What do you mean?”
He winked at her then held out an elbow, which she took out of politeness — the only reason why, she told herself.
He led her over to a small sitting area in the corner of the drawing room. It was where he had taken up residence the few nights prior when she had first arrived, but today it was full of guests. There was Lord and Lady Oxford, Lord Cristobel, Alex, Caroline, and Cecily and her husband, Lord Danvers.
“Ah, just the people I was looking for,” Elijah said as they approached, and Joanna couldn’t help but glance up at him again. Just what was he on about? “Who would like to play a game?”
“A game! I would love to!” Cecily exclaimed. “With just us?”
“That was my thought,” Elijah said. “The rest might not be interested.”
“Shall I ask Baxter?” Caroline asked, but Elijah shook his head.
“He and Ophelia are best with the older set,” he said, coaxing a laugh out of the rest of them as he referred to the remainder of the house party, made up of his parents, Cecily’s parents, Lord and Lady Hollingtide, and Admiral and Mrs. Cuthbert. “Now, everyone else in? Good.”
Joanna could only watch him, mystified. He was such a performer, so at ease speaking in front of the gathered group in front of him. He could command a crowd, hold their attention, make them all follow his every word and action.
She had always been so critical of him for how hurtful he could be that she had never stopped to assess any of his qualities that were actually much more admirable.
“Christmas,” he said, lacing his hands behind his back, “is about giving gifts.”
“It is not!” Caroline interjected.
“Have you given a gift today, Caro?” he asked, leaning forward and pinning her in his gaze.
“Well, yes, but that’s not what—”
“Very well, then. Christmas is about giving gifts.”
He looked over at Joanna, tilting his head so that the others couldn’t see and winked at her — a gesture she liked to believe was reserved for her alone, although who could know for certain? She narrowed her gaze at his cheekiness.
“What if I told you that I have in my possession the very best gift any of you could have asked for?”
They all looked at him with both curiosity and skepticism.
“What are you on about?” Alex asked his brother.
“This gift is so valuable that I cannot even put a price on it.”
“Who’s it for?” Alex asked.
“That’s just it,” Elijah said, unlacing his hands and pointing at the rest of them. “It can be for any of you.”
“I don’t understand,” Cecily said, leaning toward him, her shoulders hunching together so that the tops of her breasts were on perfect display. Joanna would like to think that it was an accident, but she had a feeling there was nothing accidental about it.
“What I am proposing is that we play a game of gift swapping,” he said. “We each place on the table a wrapped gift, and then take turns selecting which gift we want. But the key to the game is that when it is your turn, you can either choose a wrapped gift from the table, or you can steal an opened gift from someone else.”
They all began talking at once, asking questions or making protestations.
Elijah held up a hand.
“One at a time,” he said. “Cecily?”
“The rest of us don’t have any gifts prepared,” she said, her lips turned down in a pout. “How are we supposed to play?”
“You can choose a prized possession of your own,” he said, as though he were offering her a favor.
“What if I don’t have anything I want to give away?”
“Well,” he said with a shrug. “I suppose you will have to decide if it is worth taking part.”
“But we don’t know what you have yet!” she protested — quite rightly, Joanna thought, although she would never voice