By the time Merry arrived back at her own front door, she was seriously regretting having raised the idea of a Christmas ball. After all, everyone in the neighborhood knew Edward had abandoned her when he came into the title. Would they not wonder why she was involving herself in his affairs? Would Mrs. Everton not question Merry’s motives for suggesting a Christmas ball? Was she simply letting herself in for even more heartaches this year?
But it was too late to undo what she had initiated, so she decided to plunge in headfirst. She immediately sent a note around to the squire’s residence where Mrs. Everton was visiting her sister, asking if she might impose on them by coming for a short visit later that day or sometime the following morning.
She waited with increasing anxiety until the footman returned with a response. Fortunately, the ladies would receive Merry that very afternoon. Her mother usually accompanied her when she visited neighbors, but Mrs. Damonson was paying calls elsewhere, so Merry took her maid and the gig and set off.
The squire’s house was a mere mile and a half away, but it was situated off the road a good piece, with a curving drive that wound between stands of evergreens that hid the house. When Merry’s gig rounded the last curve, she almost jerked the horse to a halt. Edward was just descending from a curricle Merry had never seen before. He must have inherited it along with Branford Manor. Fortunately, except for his groom, he was alone.
Still, Merry would have preferred not to encounter him again so soon. Her silly heart seemed unaware of his perfidy, and it leapt with excitement at the sight of him. A multi-caped driving coat accentuated the breadth of his shoulders, and the shine on his Hessians no doubt owed its brilliance to the efforts of a talented valet. Obviously, Edward had adapted to his new role and moved on to more sophisticated interests than those she’d once shared with him.
Fortunately, however, his smile was no less welcoming than it had been in the past. In fact, when she pulled the gig to a halt, his smile widened and he marched across the drive to greet her.
“Well met, Miss Damonson,” he said, holding out a gloved hand to help her descend. “I have come to visit my mother, and I suspect your errand is the same. Shall we join forces in attempting to cajole her into serving as my hostess at a Christmas ball?”
Merry’s lips insisted on curving upward into an answering smile. “Good afternoon, Edward—Lord Branford, I should say.” She forced her gaze to shift from his questioning eyes to the pair of grays his groom was now attending. “I must say that I admire your taste in horses. They’re quite beautiful.”
“As are you,” he murmured almost under his breath. Before she could scold him for his inappropriate comment, he held out his arm. “May I escort you inside?”
There was no cause to create a scene, Merry decided, so she bit back her censure and laid a hand on his arm. Although several layers of cloth separated her palm and his forearm, a hint of warmth from his skin crept through her glove, sending tingles up her arm and into her chest. She clamped her teeth together and walked beside him up the steps to the front door where a footman admitted them.
The squire himself hovered in the front hall, waiting to greet them. A flicker of surprise crossed his ruddy face, and Merry was quite certain her appearance on Edward’s arm was responsible for that. But he quickly got himself in hand and bowed to Merry with a quick smile and a sincere welcome. He then shook hands with Edward. “Good to have you back in the neighborhood for the holidays, Branford,” he said. “You’re wanting to see your mother, I have no doubt. The ladies are in the drawing room so we’ll just go right on up.”
Although Merry was feeling more awkward by the minute, she tried her best to appear at ease, even though both ladies raised their brows when she walked into the room with Edward fast on her heels. Both quickly recovered, however, and stood to greet her.
“Merry, my dear,” Mrs. Everton said, holding both hands out to her. “I’m delighted to see you again.”
The squire’s wife spoke up. “As am I, my dear. And you too, Branford. We weren’t expecting you, of course, but I’m sure your mother is pleased. Both of you, come sit down and I’ll order refreshments.”
Edward bowed to his aunt and hugged his mother. “I’m so sorry I didn’t write in time to let you know I’d be spending Christmas at Summerton this year, but in my defense, I wasn’t sure I could get away. My uncle’s relatives keep descending…” He cleared his throat. “That is, I keep having unexpected company. Still, I was determined to come here for a visit this year and spend the holidays with people I love.” He looked all around the room. Was it her imagination, Merry wondered, or had his gaze lingered on her longer than on anyone else? And if it had, what did that mean? But now was not the time to ponder those questions. His mother was addressing him.
“No need to apologize, my dear Edward. I can guess what sorts of tasks have been facing you these past months. I’m just glad you’re here now.”
“I hope you’ll join me at Summerton Hall for the season.”
“Of course, my dear. I’m just staying with Bertha because I didn’t want to open up the house for just one person. However, I hear you have other guests staying with you.”
The hint of a grimace touched Edward’s face but he quickly subdued it. “Yes, I do. In fact…” He paused to look toward Merry. “Miss Damonson met one of them this afternoon, and between them, they…” He paused again. “Well, I’ll let Miss Damonson discuss that with you.”
Mrs. Everton cast Merry a questioning look. “What is it, my dear?”
Merry bit her lip. “I fear I’m being too forward.”
“Nonsense. We are old friends as well as neighbors. You can ask me anything.”
“I was hoping you would be willing to serve as Summerton Hall’s hostess and sponsor a Christmas ball for the neighborhood.”
“A ball?”
“If you prefer not to do so, of course—”
Edward’s mother interrupted her. “But I think that’s an excellent idea if Edward is willing, and apparently he is. We’ll invite everyone in the neighborhood and any of Edward’s recently discovered relatives that he wants to include. It may well be time for us to become acquainted.”
Merry didn’t find the idea of meeting Edward’s new relatives appealing—not if they were like Regina—but she had no choice but to agree. “And of course I’ll be more than happy to help in any way I can.”
“Rest assured that I’ll call on you for help, my dear. You can assist with writing out the invitations and planning the menu, because I definitely want to include supper. I’ll also want your help with the decorations because I know how talented you are with greenery.”
She turned to Edward. “And you, my dear, are so familiar with the woodland around Summerton Hall that you can scout out the holly with the reddest berries and the greenest ivy and the most accessible mistletoe. Perhaps Merry will accompany you. She will know where the prettiest greenery can be found on her family’s property.” She flashed Merry a very bright smile.
Merry almost gasped aloud. Mrs. Everton sounded as though she was trying to throw Edward and her into each other’s company, but surely that couldn’t be correct. Everyone knew that Edward had snubbed her. And judging by the likes of Regina, he’d obviously moved on to more sophisticated ladies when he had inherited a title.
But Merry could hardly refuse her request, especially since the ball had been her suggestion to start with. “Yes, I do know where some lovely greenery is located not far from our house. I’ll be glad to share the location with Ed…” Merry paused, hoping her slip had gone unnoticed, but judging by the side glances Mrs. Everton and the squire’s wife exchanged, it had not, “anyone who wants to cut some.”
“Excellent,” Mrs. Everton declared. “That’s settled then. I’ll be in touch soon, my dear.”
“Very good,” Merry murmured. She allowed her gaze to flicker toward Edward, who was watching her with an expression on his face that she could not read. Was he disturbed that they might be working together during the next couple of weeks? Once she would have been able to read his face, to interpret his emotions, but at some time since he’d left her behind, he’d learned to hide what he was thinking.
Ah well, she might be better off not knowing anyway. She turned toward the squire’s wife and smiled. “I’m sorry to leave so soon, but the days are short and I don’t want to be getting home after dark.”
Everyone immediately began their goodbyes and it was not long before Merry was again in the gig driving back toward home. This had been a strange day, and she was not surprised to discover she was filled with equally strange emotions that were hard to pin down. Was she happy? Upset? Discouraged? All of those combined?
Not that it mattered, she told herself. The ball was underway. She’d get through the holidays again, Edward would leave once more, and she would begin to grieve again.
And that was that.