Merry Misrule - St. Clair, Ellie Page 0,41

— Thatcher behind her — seemed concerned, of course, as did some of the other guests. Baxter and Ophelia looked slightly annoyed, as though they didn’t appreciate the blight on the day. And then Elijah’s eye fell on Alexander, who was watching him with what could only be described as a smug, self-satisfied expression. Elijah frowned. His brother would never do something that could so hurt him — was he pleased at the accident after Joanna had dismissed him?

Then Alex looked him in the eye, gave a jaunty wave, and retrieved his sled before going up the hill.

This couldn’t be his brother’s idea of a worthy prank.

Could it?

As shaken and embarrassed as she was, Joanna could say with all certainty that Elijah could not have been more attentive following their fall. When she politely refused any further opportunity to go down the hill again, Elijah had insisted that she return home and ensure all was well.

She tried to resist, not wanting to take anyone else away from the fun, but Elijah said that, feeling responsible, he would accompany her. His parents were at home to provide the appropriate chaperoning — not that there was anyone to care whether or not Joanna was chaperoned — and one of the footmen who had accompanied them would follow them home.

Now they had returned, and she was back to feeling unsure. Joanna had never exactly been courted before, and nor had she any idea of whether Elijah was actually courting her or not.

He had kissed her, yes, but what exactly did that mean?

“Again, I’m sorry, Joanna,” he said, as they stood uncomfortably in the foyer. Her hair hung bedraggled and damp down her back, and she flushed once more as a wet tendril on her neck reminded her of just what she must look like at the moment.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said before even thinking on what she was saying.

“It is, though,” he countered. “I talked you into coming down with me.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m fine. All is fine.”

Did she know any other words besides fine? Apparently, it was the only thing she could think of to say.

“Would you like a warm chocolate?” he asked, his hands clasped behind his back, and he looked so eager to make up for their little fall that she felt as though she had to do something to allow him to feel as though he was being useful.

“That sounds lovely,” she said. “Why don’t I go change and then I will meet you?”

“In the parlor,” he said decisively, and he seemed so pleased she had agreed that Joanna couldn’t help but feel she had made the right decision.

When she entered the parlor a short time later, however, she found nothing but an empty room. She waited a few minutes, but the fire was in embers and she had the feeling that he had forgotten, or at the very least been distracted. She looked down at her hands, wondering if she was thinking far too much about this and that he, in fact, wasn’t particularly excited at all.

He was likely just being polite, she thought with a sigh as she rose and exited the room, beginning down the corridor to return to her own chamber. She had costumes to create. She should continue on and forget that he had asked anything of her.

She was so focused on her new destination, however, that she jumped when a figure appeared in front of her.

“Elijah!” she said, a hand coming to her heart. “You scared me!”

“I did?” he cocked his head to the side. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He waved a hand in the door.

“In the library?” she asked, wrinkling her nose at him. “I had thought we were meeting in the parlor.”

“You did?” he asked, raising his brows. “I was most certain it was the library. Oh well,” he shrugged, “you’re here now. Come in?”

She nodded, slipping past him and into the room. He left the door open as she took a seat in the George III tub chair closest to the fire.

“Where are your parents?” she asked, as he took his own seat in the chair opposite her.

“Upstairs,” he said, “likely hiding from the guests for a time. If you feel uncomfortable, I can ask the footman to stay when he brings the tray.”

Joanna waved a hand in the air. “There are a few conveniences to being a spinster without any strong noble connections,” she said. “One being that no one who particularly cares about your goings