Page 29 of Bound By The Christmastide Moon

She waved them off and started for the apothecary shop down the walk.

“It is this way, my lord,” Mallory said, gesturing in the opposite direction her aunt had started off in. “The carriage is only around the corner there.”

He held out his arm to her, and she set her fingers lightly at the crook of his elbow.

“I hope all is well with Miss Felicity and her laboratory.” Bloody hell. The last thing he wanted to speak of was another woman while Mallory was on his arm, but propriety demanded he ask after her friend. “Nothing was ruined in her lab, I hope.”

She kept her gaze trained ahead of them, giving Silas the opportunity to admire her flawless, porcelain complexion and rounded button nose. “She had left the lab a few moments before. Turns out, no one in the manor heard the explosion but us. Nothing was damaged, and Felicity is free to continue her work.”

“Very good,” he mumbled.

“What of your evening, my lord,” she inquired. “How did you fare?”

Yes, a much safer topic for discussion—on the surface, at least. “My brother arrived at sunset, and I have been getting him settled in Bocka Morrow. My aunt has insisted we attend the Yule ball at the castle tomorrow evening, and thus, I will be remaining in town a few more days.”

“It must be nice to have your brother near.”

“Well, it is better for all he is close where I can keep watch on him.”

“You take much responsibility for your younger siblings,” she commented. “Sometimes, I long to have a sibling—any sibling—close and underfoot.”

“What of your brother, the Earl of Bristol? He is unwed, and a bit of a notorious gentleman about town, or so I’ve heard.” It was all Silas could think of to distract her from conversation about his family. While his aunt had unknowingly exposed part of his secret, there was much more he didn’t want her to know. “Does he not visit Blenheim often?”

They kept a slow pace as they walked, each knowing once their task was complete, he’d need return her to Lady Hettie without delay…and he would have no other cause to remain in her presence.

“I do not often see Adam or my father.” She paused, adjusting her hold on his arm. “I see my mother frequently when my father can spare her accompaniment in London. However, it is normally only Aunt Hettie I have for company.”

“A pity, Lady Mallory, I have come to enjoy your company.” Not that they’d shared much time together, but she’d helped save him from the man outside the public house and kissed him with much vigor. Certainly, those two instances qualified as moments when he enjoyed her company. “Why not travel to London to be closer to family?”

She shook her head, her dark curls flowing over her shoulder to brush his arm. He only wished he could feel their soft, velvety strands through his linen shirt.

“There would be no one to keep Aunt Hettie company if I went to town; besides, my father is a very busy man with Parliament and would not have much time anyways. I am happy at Blenheim.” Her listless tone spoke to the contrary.

Silas longed to ask her more, but they’d arrived at the Tetbery carriage where a footman took the box from him and stored it in the boot.

As they turned back toward the apothecary, he wondered if Lady Mallory didn’t need this marriage as much as he did. Could they both be struggling to find something that had been missing thus far in their lives?

Chapter 13

Mallory’s dilemma of how she’d get to the Yule ball at Keyvnor had been as easily remedied as her excuse for delaying their departure from Tetbery. The hours spent in Bocka Morrow yesterday had left Aunt Hettie with aching feet and the sniffles, as well as a groggy head, thus putting off their return home until the next morning.

It was all the reprieve Mallory would receive—and, hopefully, all she needed.

With Aunt Hettie under the weather in bed, and Felicity entertained elsewhere, Mallory had set about preparing herself for the ball. As she’d never attended a proper London soirée, especially one in celebration of a blessed union of two couples, she wasn’t entirely certain of her attire. Years prior, she’d gone to a small country festival in Launceston, yet it was in no way as grand as the ball to take place at the castle. And if she were being honest, she’d only stood on the fringes of that gathering, never daring to join in the revelry.

This night was to be different.

Perhaps she would even be so bold as to dance with Silas…before everyone.

Gowned in a pretty green taffeta dress with a wide gold sash about her waist, Mallory had hurried down the stairs and out to the stables in hopes of securing a horse to ride to the castle. The journey was not far, and though it was cold, her cloak would keep the worst of the dirt from her dress. If she kept her head bent low over the horse’s neck, the wind would not completely ruin her perfectly coiffured curls.

To her delight, the duke’s carriage stood waiting, and the driver offered her transport to Castle Keyvnor. If he thought it peculiar that she was attending the ball alone, he spoke not a word of it. He’d likely already delivered Wycliffe to the castle. When he dropped her at the back of a line of carriages waiting to dispose of their own passengers, he’d promised to return for her later in the evening.

And so, Mallory found herself creeping about the outside of Castle Keyvnor, her back pressed against the rough stone wall.

She’d first thought to exit the carriage and walk directly into the castle—she’d been invited by the countess, after all. But then she’d spotted the gardens…a very familiar plot. She’d been plagued with déjà vu when she noticed the area before her meeting with the countess a few days prior, but under the bright Christmastide moon, the winter landscape was unmistakably the scene from her vision.

Now, her satin slippers were damp with evening dew, and her nose was frozen to the point of numbness. Dirt clung to the hem of her cloak, and her hood hadn’t been enough to keep the wind from her hair. Her fingers were as stiff as the stone at her back.