Christine Merrill - The Mistletoe Wager

Which was foolish, for he had known all along that that was what she would do. He had wanted her to come with Tremaine, had planned for the eventuality. And now he was angry to the point of shouting because his plans had come to fruition. It made no sense at all.

But it was too late to call back the words, or to explain that he wished to discuss things with her in a rational manner. Elise’s cheeks had grown hot with anger and shame, but no words were issuing from her lips, and she was staring at him as though she no longer knew him.

As he waited for her response, a part of him wanted to beg her forgiveness, forestall her reaction. But why should he take all the blame when she was the one who had left? It was long past time for her turn to be hurt and frustrated and embarrassed.

It did him no good to feel sure that he was in the right on this. Instead of vindication, he was suddenly sick with the taste of truth. He had spoken too much of it, all in one go, and it sat in his stomach like an excess of Christmas dinner.

Did she expect him to swallow his pride as well, before she was willing to come home? If the silence went on much longer she would see him on his knees, begging her to return.

Then she spoke, and her voice was cool and even. ‘So I finally know, after all this time, what you really think of me. It is most gratifying that our separation has given you the ability to speak your mind. And I find I have nothing to add to it.’

Then she turned and walked from the room, leaving him all over again. He stared down at the mistletoe at his feet, and then kicked it savagely aside, before gathering enough composure to meet his guests for breakfast.

Elise walked back towards her room, numb with shock. She could hear Harry turn and walk in the opposite direction, towards the dining room. She was glad of it, for if he spoke one more word to her she would burst into tears and not care who saw her. After all her complaints over not knowing her husband’s true feelings, he had finally given them to her. And she found that she liked him better as he had been.

What had happened to the man she’d married? The amiable fellow who had tolerated her behaviour without question? In two months he’d been replaced by an angry stranger who looked at her with hard eyes and a mouth set in bitter disapproval. It was as though he was meeting her for the first time, and was thoroughly disappointed with what he saw.

Why had she come here? It had seemed like a sensible decision at the time. Either she would prove to herself and everyone else that she had put her marriage behind her, or she would make it up with Harry and go back to her old life. She had hoped that she would come back to the house and understand why he had married her in the first place. He would prove that he needed her, even if there were no children, and she would see that her fears were foolishness, and learn to accept his natural reserve as an aspect of his character, not a reflection upon her person.

For a moment she had been sure it was true. He had spoken so fondly of the changes she’d made in his life. And then had proved that he did not need her to preserve them. The last thing she had expected was to find him getting on with things without her help.

And, even worse, that he would come out and admit that there had been a problem from the first, just as she had suspected. Worse yet, it did not sound as if she could easily gain his forgiveness, and the love she wanted. He had spoken as though he had no hope for a closer relationship with her. He had offered for her never expecting to receive her love, or to give his in return. But they could have drifted along in peace and pleasantry had she not chosen to rile him in an effort to fix things.

Rosalind was approaching from the other end of the hall, and Elise reached out to her in desperation. ‘I need to talk to you. There is a problem.’

Rosalind replied, ‘If it is about the eggs I must argue that they are not at all my fault. I hardly think if one makes a simple suggestion to Cook that a touch more seasoning would be appreciated, that it should result in so much pepper as to make the whole tray inedible. Lord Gilroy took a large portion and grew so red in the face that I feared apoplexy. I-’

Elise grabbed her sister-in-law by the wrist and pulled her into the drawing room. ‘It is not about the eggs.’

‘What else has gone wrong, then? It is so early in the day that there cannot be more.’

‘It is your brother. He is angry with me.’

Rosalind smiled with satisfaction. ‘And you have no trouble recognising the fact? That is wonderful news. For it means you are beginning to solve your difficulties.’

‘It is not wonderful. It is really quite horrible. He thinks I am faithless.’

Rosalind stared at her and made a face. ‘Did you think that taking a lover would assure him of your fidelity? I know things are different in Bavaria, Elise. But they can’t be as different as all that.’

‘Nicholas is only a friend, nothing more.’ She squeezed Rosalind’s arm. ‘You must believe me. I would never be untrue to Harry.’

Rosalind disengaged her arm and said, ‘While I have no trouble believing you, it is what Harry thinks that matters.’

‘If Harry were really bothered he should have said something before now.’ She realised too late how defensive she sounded-and how guilty.

Rosalind was looking at her in annoyance. ‘You have said yourself that Harry does not speak about anything that bothers him. Did you think that this would be different?’

‘Perhaps I was trying to make him jealous.’ It was difficult to say the words, for they proved that she had known what she was doing was wrong.

Rosalind nodded. ‘You were lonely. And by his silence Harry made it easy for you to stray. He is lucky the situation is not worse than it is.’

Elise let out a small sigh of relief. At least Rosalind did not hold her weakness too much against her. ‘I wanted Harry to notice me. But now that he has, what am I to do? I would send Nicholas away, but with the weather he cannot get to the end of the drive, much less back to London.’ And then she remembered the offer she had made to get him to bring her home. ‘And I will have to apologise to Nicholas as well, for I fear I have given him the wrong idea of my feelings.’

Rosalind stared at her, offering no help.

Elise continued. ‘We are all stuck here together, the house is full of strangers, and if we argue everyone in London will hear of it. What am I to do?’

Rosalind replied with a helpless shrug. ‘I assumed you would not have come here if you did not have some idea how to proceed once you had talked to Harry. Did you not have a plan? Everyone seems to be full of them nowadays. It is quite the thing.’

‘I was so angry with him I did not think.’

‘And he was not angry enough. And now you are less angry, and he is more so.’ Rosalind nodded. ‘In no time at all balance shall be achieved and you shall both be equally annoyed.’ She said it as though this were supposed to be good news, and wiped her hands on her skirts.

Elise shook her head. ‘But I do not wish to be annoyed with Harry. I wish us to be happy together. If I return to find that we are both still cross, leaving will have been an exercise in futility.’

Rosalind stepped past her towards the hall, gaining speed as she went. ‘There is nothing more I can do for you at the moment. I must run to the entry hall and decorate the Yule Log, so that tonight we can throw the whole thing into the fire and burn those same decorations to ashes. I am sure I will be in a much better mood to discuss futile behaviour, after that is done.’

Rosalind hurried down the hallway, taking sips from the cup of tea in her hand. It was tepid. But since she had not managed lunch, it was all she was likely to have until supper, and it would have to do. Since the moment she had arisen there had been something that needed doing, or fixing, or seeing to. Harry’s friends seemed to think that the food was either overcooked or raw, they found their rooms too hot or too cold, and the servants could not manage to please any of them without constant supervision.

After watching her decorate the Christmas tree, she had nurtured hopes that Elise would see the chaos, take control of the house, and set things to right again. But after one conversation with Harry the woman could not manage to do anything more useful than wring her hands.

It was most distressing.

As Rosalind passed the open door of the library she noticed that the mistletoe was no longer in its place. Was there something wrong with the thing that it could not seem to stay fixed to the door? Was the nail loose? Tremaine had placed it quite securely yesterday. What had happened now?

She searched the floor and found it had not fallen, as she’d expected, onto the doorstep, but had pitched up against the wall, several feet away. Someone must have kicked it by mistake, for it did appear somewhat the worse for wear. She glared at it, as though blaming it as a troublemaker, then shook it roughly and gave it a half-hearted toss in the direction of the hook above her.

It hung for a moment, and then dropped back into her teacup, splashing the contents onto her bodice. Unlike yesterday, there was no sound of muffled laughter. But she took a chance before acting further.

‘Tremaine, I need you. Get up from that couch and be of use.’

There was a sigh from the other side of the room. ‘How did you know I was here?’

‘I have been everywhere else in the house, for one reason or another, and I have not seen you all day. So, by process of elimination, you must be hiding in the library-just as you promised you would not.’