Page 31 of The Mistletoe Duke

“I don’t know why he kissed me.”

In response, Susana turned her to the glass. “Don’t you? Can’t you see how lovely you are?”

She stared at her reflection. Oh, she looked fine. “I’ll never be as pretty as Tessa.”

“Oh dear. Is that it?” Susana sighed. “I do know how you feel, though. I was certain Christian would fall for her once he met her. She was so beautiful. But darling, Tessa is gone. Jonathan’s not even mourning anymore.”

“I know.” It hardly signified. Tessa has always been the pretty one. Meg had always been the one who tromped through the mud with the boys.

“But that is all beside the point. You are here and you shall have a wonderful time. Come now. Let’s go speak with Everton. Have you met him yet?”

Meg made a face. “He spits when he talks.”

“Oh dear. How about Mattingly?”

Mattingly was nice. Funny. Clever. He just wasn’t Jonathan.

Meg shrugged.

“Surely there is someone you would like to talk to.”

“I enjoyed conversing with Hisdick…” He was extraordinarily well-read and had an excellent grasp of subtext.

“All right.” Susana linked their arms once more and they made their way over to the corner, where Hisdick had once again positioned himself and they had a lovely conversation about authors such as Sarah Burnley, Elizabeth Thomas, and Jane West, though Susana didn’t contribute much. She simply stood guard.

* * *

“What are you doing in here?”

Jonathan winced as he heard his mother enter the room. For a second, he thought to hide his whisky, then reminded himself he was a duke and he could drink whenever he damned well pleased. So he lifted his glass. “I needed a break.”

She sniffed. “Susana suggested perhaps you weren’t up to hosting.”

Susana had the right of it. The last thing he wanted to do right now was host. He wanted to go into the salon, sweep Meg off her feet, and carry her bodily to his chambers.

But he couldn’t. Damn it all anyway.

“You must go back. The card games are about to start.”

He forbore rolling his eyes, but just barely. He might be seated with one of them. “I don’t like to play cards.”

Her snort echoed the room. “You like cards enough when you go to gaming hells.”

“Gaming hells aren’t dangerous.”

“Well, I never. This is a party in your own home. You are not in danger.”

“Ah, but I am.” He refilled his glass. “Did you know Miss Peck suggested I take her to the conservatory? Tonight?”

“I’m sure she didn’t.”

“I’m sure she did.” Also, his mother had probably not noticed the deep gouges on his forearm from Cecily’s talons. “Mother, I appreciate you inviting them all, but…”

“But what?” Her eyes went wide and all innocent-like.

He stared at her for a moment. “You have to know that none of them would suit.”

“None of them would suit?” The fact that she parroted him and batted her lashes while doing it made suspicion bubble within him. Oh, he knew her. He knew her well. He just hadn’t suspected she could be so manipulative.