Merry Misrule - St. Clair, Ellie Page 0,35

the library on Christmas night without any sense of commitment — commitment which he wasn’t sure he could or should give to her.

For he was well aware there was something still wrong with him, deep inside. His injuries from the war hadn’t left any scars. All of his limbs were intact. On the outside, he looked the same man who had left England, though aged by three years.

Inside, however, everything had changed, and the worst of it all was that he wasn’t entirely sure just how completely. All of his memories were intact for the most part, but fuzzy. He remembered people, sure. He could recognize friends and family, and had some idea of what he felt about each of them. But particular circumstances, instances, events — they were blurred out, like steam had fogged the glass he was looking through. Little details were difficult to pick up, and he found himself forever trying to make excuses, for he had no idea whether or not anyone could ever understand.

How could one live with a man who might forget his own child’s birthday? Who couldn’t remember much of his own childhood? Who lived one day to the next, scared that he would forget everything that had come before?

He didn’t know what kind of husband that would make him. He hadn’t thought he would ever pursue that role for himself.

Until Joanna.

He knocked back the drink he had poured before her arrival, replacing the glass as he left the library to make his way to his bedroom, where he knew he would spend a long, sleepless night, thinking of her, wondering what she was doing, where she was sleeping, if she was thinking of him in turn.

He didn’t deserve a woman like her.

But he wasn’t sure if he could ever let her go.

Chapter 13

With Christmas passed, the Twelfth Night celebration — which rivalled Christmas, and, for the younger set, was likely even more anticipated — was on the lips of all the guests. As everyone gathered in the drawing room several days later, wearing all of the pelisses and cloaks and wool hats and mittens that would be required for sledding that afternoon, they began discussing just what would make for the best celebration.

“Party games are always fun,” said Lady Oxford with a smile and a look of knowing at her husband.

“We’ll have dinner, of course,” Lady Darlington added as she sat and watched the rest of them, for she was staying behind.

“The children can come for a time, can they not?” Elijah asked, and Christopher began bouncing up and down on his toes, while Ophelia rolled her eyes at him.

“Oh, we must have a costume party!” Cecily said, joining the conversation. “I love dressing up! We can each take on a befitting character. Would that not be fun?”

“I hadn’t planned for much by way of costumes,” Elijah’s mother said, cocking her head at the thought. “We have nothing prepared. No cards and no costumes.”

“The cards are easy enough to make,” Cecily pressed. “As for the costumes…” her smile widened, and Elijah suddenly had the feeling that she had an idea which was not going to be in the best interests of someone in the room who wasn’t Cecily. “We have a seamstress in our midst!” The expression she sent Joanna’s way was one of self-satisfaction for, he was sure, more than just an agreeable thought.

“Oh…” Joanna said with a wince, “I’m not entirely sure—”

“But wouldn’t it be fun!” Cecily continued. “It wouldn’t be an inordinate amount of work, I’m sure, as we can simply alter the wardrobes we brought with us. Oh, please say you will do it, Miss Merryton, please!”

Elijah frowned. He couldn’t say he knew much of the job of a seamstress, but somehow the thought of creating costumes for all of the guests — even if it was just altering — seemed to be far too great a task for one person alone, especially one person who was supposed to be here enjoying her Christmas holiday, likely one of the few holidays she ever received.

“I will do my best,” Joanna said with a small, forced smile, although she dipped her head quickly, and Elijah just knew that she was hiding an expression of unease at the request. Oh, how he would love to walk over and tell Cecily exactly what he thought, but he wasn’t entirely sure where his place was in Joanna’s affairs. He was a man who was attracted to her, who had kissed her, who would