Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
“Oh, this is wonderful!” Alison cried as she and Lord Grayhill entered the large hall. “Look! Have you ever seen anything like it?”
Lord Grayhill took one look around the large hall and shrugged. “Only at every ball I have ever attended.”
She rolled her eyes. “Seasonal Balls, yes. But this is not the same. There is just something so magical about a Christmas event. It is somehow both quaint and transcendent at the same time.”
Lord Grayhill frowned at her. “You are teasing me, surely?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because…” He gestured to the hall as if that was enough. “It is rather drab. And that is a nice way of saying it.”
She flashed her eyes at him. “All part of the allure, Lord Grayhill. It is not how it looks but what one does with it. And besides…” Then she winked.
“A little imagination goes a long way. Just think of how much fun everyone else is having. Look at their faces. Tell me that does not stir something inside of you.”
“I assure you, it does not.”
“Well, the night is still young,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Perhaps by the end of the evening, you will change your mind.”
“Do not hold your breath.”
Alison laughed at how grumpy Lord Grayhill was behaving.
It seemed purposeful to her, as if he had his mind set on being dismissive and nothing would change that.
But she could see too his eyes wandering over the hall, curiosity brimming, and she knew without question that he wanted his mind changed.
The fact that he had agreed to this in the first place suggested as much. That is how I plan on seeing it.
Despite how eager and enthusiastic Alison was behaving, the Winter Ball was indeed as Lord Grayhill said.
It was being held in the town hall, which itself was a rather mundane space lacking in the type of opulence and extravagance that she was used to.
The walls were decorated with cheap streamers and colorful banners and wreaths and baubles.
And the gowns and suits the villagers wore were, of course, nothing compared to what Alison was used to.
But the atmosphere was what took her breath away.
There were hundreds of villagers crammed into the hall.
They were dressed colorfully and for warmth.
They laughed and cried out among themselves.
They streamed this way and that, dancing all the while, singing to the music, having such fun because they did not need to worry themselves with appearances.
And best of all, Alison and Lord Grayhill were taken little real notice of. This was not about them. Nobody was watching and judging. There were no expectations attached to their attendance. Tonight was about having fun, and Alison very much intended on making it count.
“Come.” She took Lord Grayhill by the arm and dragged him into the hall.
“Where are we going?” he sighed.
“To get a drink,” she laughed. “And then a dance, I think. It is cold and I need to move.”
He scoffed. “I do not think so…”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Are you always this morose?”
“Always? No. Mostly? Yes.”
Alison was surprised when Lord Grayhill agreed to attend the ball. All but certain he was going to deny the mayor’s invitation, that he agreed caught her by complete surprise.
And while Alison had wanted to attend, there was that part of her that wondered if it was such a smart idea.
How could she possibly avoid the Earl if they were to go out together like this?
But she also reasoned that over the course of the next two weeks, it would be all but impossible to avoid one another, so why bother committing to that mode of operation?
Rather, Alison had come up with a new plan.
She needed to stop fighting with Lord Grayhill at every turn. She needed to stop pushing him on purpose. If they were to survive the following two weeks, they would have to treat one another with respect and kindness. She was committed to this idea… and she hoped that he was of the same mind.
And it all started with tonight’s festivities.
“Lord Grayhill!” Mayor Pritchard hurried toward them. He was dressed colorfully, his motley suit a smattering of various materials. “You made it!”
“I said I would come,” Lord Grayhill said, looking uncomfortable at how congenially the mayor was treating him.
“Tell me true.” The mayor laughed as he spoke. “Is this not wonderful? Oh, I do love this time of year.”
“He is having the best of times,” Alison cut in. “He told me just now.”
“Did he?”
“He did.” She found the Earl glaring at her and she winked playfully. “In fact, he hopes that you invite him to more of the town’s festivities in the future.”
“I will remember that!”
Alison laughed to see Lord Grayhill scowling. And she laughed just as hard to see how pleased the mayor was with this declaration.
“Was that supposed to be funny?” Lord Grayhill growled once they were alone. They stood toward the back of the hall, each with a cup of warm mead in their hands.
“Oh yes,” she said. “Hilarious, by my reckoning.”
He scoffed. “I won’t forget this. Know that.”
“I would not expect you to…” She pumped her eyebrows. “I only ask that your retaliation be gentle.”
She saw his lip twitch. “Not too gentle.”
Alison’s eyes widened because it was only just then that she realized what she had said. In all her effort to be friendly and playful, she had accidently evoked memories of their past dalliances, forcing them back into a state of tension which neither could avoid.
She looked away, cheeks flushing pink. And as she did, she felt the Earl’s eyes on her. It was all well and good to be civil toward one another, but there was still that underlying tension that sat between them. An unspoken question that both wanted answered but neither were willing to broach…
Thankfully, before the tension got to be too much, a familiar face appeared.
“You made it!” Tommy, the young boy from the snowball fight, darted toward them. His blue eyes shone with mischief and his smile was just as wicked.
“Oh, look who it is,” Alison beamed. “Tommy, yes?”
“That’s right.” He looked at Lord Grayhill. “My lord…” A deep bow. “I hardly recognized you. Not covered in snow or anything.”
Alison laughed and even Lord Grayhill allowed a smile.
“Lady Alison…” Tommy straightened and he suddenly became nervous.
“I was just wondering… thinking, really. Seeing as it is a ball, and there is music and dancing and everything. Might you want to be… I thought you would be interested… it would be fun if we…” He stammered through the question and, as he did, his eyes flicked toward the dance floor.
“I would be honored,” she said, saving him from having to ask the question. “Assuming that Lord Grayhill does not mind you stealing me away?”
Lord Grayhill scoffed. “Of course not.”
“Are you certain?” she winked. “A handsome man like this, I would not want you to be jealous.”
“Somehow, I will manage it,” he said flatly.
She grinned, saw Lord Grayhill fight back his smile, and then took Tommy by the hand and led him toward the dance floor.
Alison could not remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much. She danced with Tommy as if the world was ending and this would be her last ever chance. She laughed and cried out, moved between partners, cared not for how she looked or who was watching.
And even the fact that Lord Grayhill did not join her, mattered little. Because as she danced, she was sure to find him in the crowd and every time that she did, she caught him watching her.
Her cheeks flushed pink. Her breathing was heavy.
She tried not to look at him but could not help herself.
Their eyes would meet, they would hold, she would see in them that same look he fixed on her just two evenings ago before he kissed her.
Then she would break the stare, and her entire body would shake.
When Alison first met Lord Grayhill, she hated him.
When they met the second time, she despised him.
That was quickly changing. Oh yes, he worked so hard at playing the grump.
And he was so determined to be dismissive and disinterested.
But there was a kindness to him that was undeniable.
A softer side that he worked hard to keep hidden.
More than that, Alison was slowly coaxing it out.
Why, it felt to her like he wanted her to do so.
And she wanted it just as much. She could not say how she felt about Lord Grayhill. It was too early for such things. But those two times they kissed stood out in her mind, and Alison was desperate to find out what they meant. If anything at all.
So it was that when the dance finished, she thanked Tommy and wandered back to where the Earl was waiting. But he was not alone, which itself was a surprise.
“There you are.” She was breathing heavily as she reached him, her entire body flushed red.
“Ah, Lady Alison, this must be!” The woman with Lord Grayhill was elderly and kindly. Shorter than Alison, rounder than the mayor, and with green eyes the size of dinner plates that were knowing and playful.
“I am she,” Alison said.
“Lady Alison…” Lord Grayhill straightened. “This is Mrs. Hollingberry, an old friend of my mother’s.”
“Also known as the town gossip,” Mrs. Hollingberry laughed. “But do not fear…” She looked between them both. “I know when to keep a secret.” There was a smile behind her eyes, a secret she knew which was obvious to any paying attention.
“Oh, lovely to meet you,” Alison said, growing slightly nervous because of the way Mrs. Hollingberry eyed them both.
“Do not mind me,” she said with cheer. “I just wished to deliver my greetings and good tidings. It has been an age since I last saw Lord Grayhill. You were this big –” She held her hand to her waist. “And infinitely more joyful.”
“I was a child.”
“Does not make it any less true,” she grinned.
“Oh! And there is one more thing, before I go. If the two of you will humor me and stand over here…” She took Alison by the hand and led her a few feet to the right.
“Lord Grayhill…” She raised an eyebrow, which had the Earl groaning but following her. “Wonderful. Just wonderful.”
“What is this?” Lord Grayhill sighed.
“Nothing,” she winked. “Only, I just now noticed where you are standing…” She raised an eyebrow and then glanced at the ceiling.
Alison frowned and followed her eyeline, only for her face to drop with realization when she saw it: a mistletoe hanging directly over their head.
Alison felt her stomach flip. Eyes widening, she looked everywhere but at the Earl. She rubbed her arm nervously. She laughed awkwardly. She ignored the way Mrs. Hollingberry giggled as she watched them. And then, finally, she dared to look at Lord Grayhill.
He was nowhere near as put out as she was.
He stood over her. Stared down at her. Eyes for her and her alone.
She lost herself in those eyes, the ball and its people vanishing as if nobody else in the world existed.
Her heart thumped painfully in her chest as her whole body quaked.
Alison caught her breath as she matched the Earl’s stare, not daring to make a move… while praying that he would.
“Well?” Mrs. Hollingberry prompted. “In the spirit of Christmas!”
Lord Grayhill rolled his eyes, but it looked forced. Then his hand moved to her waist gently, he turned to face her, and he leaned in…
Alison gasped as the Earl’s lips brushed her cheek.
She stood frozen, unable to breathe, unwilling to blink or so much as move a millimeter.
His lips were warm and wet, and their touch sent a ripple through her body that allowed a soft moan to escape her lips.
And, as the Earl moved away, he was sure to whisper in her ear.
“For being so well behaved for a change…”
Mrs. Hollingberry was saying something else, but Alison did not hear what. She stared ahead, her heart racing, the spot where the Earl had kissed her burning red hot. The kiss ended, but his hand stayed on the small of her back, and she dared to look up at him.
He wore a knowing smirk. Nowhere near as affected as she was, it looked almost as if he was glad for the chance to kiss her. As if he had planned it. That was unlikely, she knew, but what if…
What if this night is only just beginning…
Alison did not know what she expected from Lord Grayhill, but she knew what she wanted. And now, it seemed to her, that he wanted the same thing. Or so she hoped…