Page 15 of Yule Be Mine

Tom eyed him, too much glee in his face. “That I could make you jealous during the dance.”

“I am not jealous of you and Penelope St. Claire.” The very idea was ludicrous.

“She said you wouldn’t be. But then why am I standing out here, freezing my bollocks off, talking about her to you?” Tom took a drag on the cigarette, as though taking warmth from it.

“Because I don’t want you to ruin the girl. She’s just got to London. She’s not even out yet. We both know your reputation ever since Grandfather gave you that ship.” Yule winced. The tales he’d heard of Tom and the women he’d entertained on board were more than scandalous.

“My reputation isn’t going to hurt the young lady, and I promise you, Yule, neither am I. I simply wanted to dance with a pretty girl this evening, and I must confess, I think she is the most beautiful one at the party.” Tom grinned again, then let out a low whistle. “I was surprised she still had dances left by the time I got to her. She did say you had won a waltz in a wager.”

“I did.” Glad of it now, Yule nodded enthusiastically. “The first waltz in fact.”

“Yes, I’d tried to get that one, but she’s saving a later one for me.” Tom grinned at him.

“Because of your wager?” Knowing Tom, the forfeit could have been worse.

“Oh, no. Just because I wanted to dance with her.” Tom stubbed his cigarette out. “The wager was for a kiss under the mistletoe.”

His cousin must have been expecting Yule’s blow, for he ducked as Yule’s fist swung through the cold air just where Tom’s face had been a second before. “What do you mean you’re going to kiss her?”

Tom had retreated down the verandah where the shadows were thicker. “It’s a kiss under the mistletoe, Yule. It’s nothing. At least, it’ll be less of a meal than the kiss you gave her this afternoon.”

Yule pursued his cousin, stalking him down the hollow, wooden verandah floor until he stood in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted at a cocky angle. “It’s only mistletoe, Yule. I won’t be the first to kiss her under it this Christmas.” His teeth showed as he grinned in the dim light. “You likely weren’t the first either. Had you thought of that?”

Yule stepped back, the red rage that had consumed him dissipating somewhat. What was it about Penelope that drove him into such a frenzy of protective fury? “So you swear you don’t have any designs on her?”

“I’m too busy sowing my wild oats for the next—” he paused to count, “—eight months. Of course,” he said, sending Yule an impish look, “if she’s still unmarried by August, I can’t say I won’t consider her wife material.”

“Hands off, Tom.” The growl in Yule’s tone hopefully signaled to his cousin that he was serious.

“If I were you, I’d be saying that to Lord Clavering. He’s been very attentive toward her ever since she arrived. You’ve much more to fear from him than me at present.” Tom cocked his head. “So, you intend to marry her then?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Why were people so intent on marrying him off to Penelope? Couldn’t they see—

“Why not? You are clearly besotted with her.”

“What?” Yule hauled his arm back and let fly a punch that would have laid Tom out had it connected. His cousin, however, nimbly sidestepped the blow once more and started back down the verandah, trailing laughter as he fled.

Shoulders slumping, Yule waited a moment for his anger to cool. Tom knew how to goad him, no doubt about that. He’d have to make certain his cousin didn’t bother Penelope any more tonight. If there was a wager for a kiss, then he’d stand witness to the paying of that wager—so it would be noted as satisfied.

He’d best return to the ballroom now. God knew when they’d play the first waltz and if he wasn’t present, he didn’t want Tom volunteering to step in and fulfill the forfeit in his stead. He wouldn’t put anything past his scamp of a cousin, so he wouldn’t give him the chance to slip something past him tonight.