Seven Years Ago, Christmas Eve
“Peter, where are you?” Stephen Northwick yelled down the front staircase, earning himself a frown from Lucas, the butler.
“Master Stephen. Such behaviour is not expected from the heir to the Northwick estate. Kindly moderate your tones.”
“Sorry, Lucas,” said the unrepentant young man as he hurried downstairs. “But the party is starting soon, and I have no idea where the hel... um, where on earth he’s gotten to.”
“I’m sure he will be in attendance. In the meantime, you might consider helping her Ladyship complete the decorations in the grand drawing room?”
“I think she’s almost done, but all right, I’ll see how she’s doing. Just promise you’ll tell Peter where I am?”
“Of course.” Lucas nodded as Stephen sped off at his usual rapid pace.
A twenty-two-year-old young man with a great deal of energy was expected to make noise.
He wasn’t, however, expected to play cards with his friends into the wee hours of the morning, like he had the night before.
His brother’s gaming habit had kept more than one candle burning too late at Northwick House.
That had worried Lucas enough to have a word with Lord Northwick about his eldest son. Peter, however, was – although barely a year younger than his brother – quite different in temperament and interest.
The two Northwick lads were, as the housekeeper liked to say, chalk and cheese.
“Guests arriving!” Lucas spoke sharply to the servants in the hall, who straightened to attention immediately.
Two footmen would relieve the guests of their outer garments, and several maids would make sure each piece was stored correctly. The gentlemen’s gloves would go in their hats with a name tag – already created – and the cloaks would be hung up by name as well, with their ladies’ cloaks beside them.
It was a complicated dance, but the Northwick staff were old hands at this sort of thing.
The second Northwick son had heard his brother’s bellow up the stairs and rolled his eyes. Stephen thrived on events like this. Peter could take them or leave them. But he knew his duty, so he walked the corridors past the servants doing the last-minute things that servants do.
He knew most by name, never worried that it damaged his prestige to share a word or two with them, or even just a smile. Would it be frowned upon by the Ton in London?
Peter didn’t care one whit. These people made his life comfortable and pleasant. Damned if he could see any reason not to thank them and chat now and again.
The front hall was already beginning to fill with guests, so he detoured down a passageway which led to another entrance to the ballroom. There, he would stand with his brother and his parents, smiling, bowing, pretend-kissing hands, and generally being bored out of his mind.
After an hour or so, names and faces were blurring together, his back ached from all the elegant bows he’d had to endure, and the kisses he’d placed just above the gloves of what felt like a thousand ladies.
Fortunately, Lady Northwick had passed along the signal for the music to begin, so both brothers were excused from the receiving line.
And, being who they were, Stephen went one way, and Peter the other.
Yes, they would both do their duty, but Peter was damned if he’d spend all night with giggling young ladies and their mamas.
This was exactly the sort of thing that sent shivers of excitement down the spines of those mamas, who were vainly trying to conceal their avaricious goals when it came to husbands for their daughters.
Since it was Christmas Eve, Northwick House was lit up from top to bottom, and more than a few guests roamed the halls as dancing was strenuous work. Several couples had managed to stealthily nip out of the ballroom and probably taking advantage of the smaller side rooms.
Peter was tempted to do the same for a different reason, since he had a book he wanted to finish in the library. But he did do a couple of duty dances before he could sneak away unobserved.
Taking a breath of cooler air, he walked up to the third floor. The music from the ballroom could still be heard, but muted, softer. Much more pleasant, thought Peter.
He heard voices coming nearer and sighed. Was there nowhere he could find a few minutes respite?
Desperate to avoid whoever was coming up the stairs, he blew out the nearest candle and opened the door of one of the linen cupboards, pulling it almost closed behind him, then putting his eye up to the crack to see a couple walk past.
Once they had moved on, he breathed.
And heard someone else do the same thing.
She had frozen as soon as the cupboard door opened and barely suppressed a scream when a man had stepped inside. Then she realised that he couldn’t see her. If she stayed absolutely still and made no sound, perhaps he would go away once the people in the corridor walked on.
But no such luck.
“Are you hiding too?” A man’s voice. A young man by the sound of it.
She had no choice but to answer. “Yes.”
He was quiet for a moment. “May I assume you aren’t fond of large events like these?”
“That is correct,” she whispered.
“Too many people and too much noise,” he murmured softly. “And yet it can be fun sometimes, you know.”
“Not for me. I know no one.”
“Well your family must, surely? They have not introduced you to others?”
She sighed. “I have done my duty, sir. Don’t let me keep you from wherever you were going.”
He cracked the door a little, just enough so that they could see each other. “That’s better.” He smiled. “My name is Peter, by the way.”
“Hullo Peter.”
“And you are...?”
“Embarrassed to have been caught hiding in a cupboard,” she admitted with a soft laugh.
He chuckled too. “I must agree. I feel the same.” He opened the door a little wider and she glimpsed his face. He was very handsome, smiling at her with genuine friendliness. His eyes...warm, comforting. There was no avarice, no appraisal in his gaze. It was a refreshing change.
“You have beautiful eyes,” he mused. “Like a sunlit sea, all blues and greens.”
Lured by his quite voice, she stepped closer. “And you are most kind to notice.” She sniffed. “That scent. Fresh, clean...”
He moved toward her, a casual step. “Do you find it to your liking?” His dark eyes roamed over her face.
“I do,” she nodded. “Very much.”
“’Tis possible the linens have a little to do with it...”
She laughed. “Very true.”
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, as if talking to himself.
“You are...different,” she murmured back, moving toward him as if drawn by some kind of lure.
He was watching her, his eyes drifting to her mouth. “As are you.” He moved to stand directly in front of her. “I...forgive me...I want to kiss you.”
His gaze dropped to her lips, and instinctively she licked them, surprised to hear his quick intake of breath. “I think I’d like that...”
To her amazement, she did.
His arms were strong but gentle as he held her close against his body, so warm, so male. She watched his eyes as he slid his arms around her and angled his head as she angled hers.
The lightest touch, a brief slide...and suddenly, as if a floodgate had opened, she was swept up in a blazing firestorm of pleasure. Moaning a little, she parted her lips, and his tongue found hers, duelling, sliding, making her open her mouth wider, eager for his taste.
She ached, her breasts felt hard and hot against his waistcoat, her eyes drifted closed as she relished every single touch, even when his hands slid down her gown and found her bottom, pulling her even tighter against his body, and the obvious hardness now pressing against her.
For the first time, she wanted. She desired, yearned, ached with a need she’d never imagined. This was not one of the silly, sloppy kisses she’d suffered a few times before. This was...well, she had no words.
But all too soon voices intruded once again as several people walked down the corridor together.
Peter pulled back, reluctantly, his hands lingering. “I...”
“Sssh.” She sighed and made her decision. “You must go. I will come after a few minutes.”
“And I’ll see you in the ballroom? Where all the chandeliers are alight.” He smiled at the still-warm candle.
“Of course.”
He touched her face once more, running his palm down her cheek. “Don’t be long. I want to dance with you.”
“I’d be honoured,” she managed a smile.
Nodding, he peered around the door and found the corridor empty. He stepped through, flashed her a quick grin, then walked quickly away.
She was alone again. As propriety demanded – but her heart rebelled.
Waiting, just to be sure, she finally left the linen cupboard, and walked down the corridor, to another stairwell.
This one took her to the front hall, where she knew her parents would be waiting for her.
They were not staying for supper, but had taken advantage of the ball to make the duty visit her Papa had arranged.
Her heart ached a little, but her mind rejoiced. She’d had her first kiss...and it had been the most magnificent moment she had ever experienced.