It was one of those instances where Kat really wanted to laugh even though it really wasn’t funny. “Parents do that,” she said instead.
For a moment, Gabrielle stopped working. “Aren’t we sup-posed to be the screw-ups? The kids taking stupid chances?”
Gabrielle cut her eyes across the room to where Irina fussed over the earl who sat beside an identical fireplace on the opposite side of the room.
There was greenery lining the mantle and mistletoe dangling from the ceiling. It made Kat want to sneeze.
“You and I were never kids.”
When Gabrielle spoke again, her voice had taken on a dreamy quality that made Kat look, doubt. She’d never before heard her cousin sound the way she did when she said, “It’d be fun, you know. Just once. To wake up Christmas morning with snow on the ground and stockings full of presents that no one had to steal and a house that’s really home.” She reclaimed the teapot and slowly slipped back into the con. “That would be nice. Maybe, someday, we’ll steal that.”
On the other end of the room, Irina was settling an afghan around the earl’s shoulders.
“Maybe that’s what your mom’s doing?” Kat tried.
Gabrielle scowled. “My mom’s doing what my mom always does: taking care of Irina.”
Gabrielle’s hands were steady once more as she placed a wedge of lemon on the saucer and carried it to the dowager duchess of something-or-other.
“I don’t like the look of this weather, Scooter,” the earl’s heir said from the window.
At this time of winter and so close to Scotland, the days were short and the sun had long since gone down. The mansion’s grounds were well-lit though, and the windows were spotless, but even from where Kat stood by the fire she could practically feel the chill that reverberated off the glass.
The castle was ancient and solid, drafty and damp. But nothing was as cool as Hale as he turned to the earl’s heir and looked outside. “I’m not worried.”
But that was just when the chandeliers decided to flicker. In an instant, the only light came from the flames that burned in the twin fireplaces at the ends of the room. In the darkness, the wind howled louder.
“No one worry,” Lady Georgette’s voice was lilting and light. “It’s just the storm, no doubt. Scooter! Where are… Oh, there you are.”
“There’s part of me,” Hale said.
“I’ve never cared for the dark,” Lady Georgette’s voice was soft, but it carried through the darkness.
When Gabrielle brought the antique candelabra to the fire and lit the candles, their gentle glow filled the room, and Kat could see the earl’s daughter pressed against Hale’s side.
She was not a possessive person. She’d never been prone to jealousy. No. Kat was more prone to simply making sure the very fancy college that Lady Georgette was going to be attending found out that the girl had had “help” with her entrance exams.
There was a murmur going through the drawing room. People shifted and whispered, waiting for the lights to come back on. Only the earl’s voice broke through the darkness.
“Ha! Just like the old days! Always did like a good blackout. Good for the soul, I say. What’s the use of having a house built in the fifteen hundreds if you don’t live like it!” The earl sounded genuinely excited about fireplaces and candles and maybe a duel or two by morning, but he seemed alone in his enthusiasm.
“Great! The cell tower must be out too. I’ve got nothing.” A digital screen glowed in the darkness, and the earl’s heir looked like he wanted to throw his phone across the room. He was starting to pace and the windows were starting to fog, and a nervous energy was coming off of him in waves.
“Did you have urgent business waiting for you?” Hale asked him, but the viscount tried to push the words away.
“Nothing important,” he said, sliding his phone into his pocket.
A footman found more candles, and someone added wood to the fire and slowly the room grew brighter. The fire cracked, and people whispered and the shadows practically danced to the rhythm of ice pelting against the windows.
“I think it’s romantic,” Lady Georgette said. She didn’t even try to disguise the dreamy look in her face as she stared up at Hale. “Oh, look, Scooter. Someone’s under the mistletoe!”
As the girl went up on her tiptoes and brought her lips to Hale’s it was all Kat could do not to throw a lit candle at her.
She might have done just that if the old duchess hadn’t chosen that moment to yell, “We should play charades!” Everyone looked at her. “I met the duke during a blackout. Charades helped.”
“Oh!” Georgette brought her hands together. “I love charades. Scooter, you’re on my team.”
“Well, I—” Hale started, but the earl cut him off.
“Good idea! The Hales and the Fitzsimmonses have always been a good team. You won’t find a better partner than my Georgie, Mr. Hale.”
Kat felt a presence at her elbow, and almost recoiled when she saw the viscount looking down at her. “I suppose that leaves us,” he said.
He ran a finger down her arm, and Kat choked out a startled, “Yay.”
Kat had never been so happy to hear a Bagshaw as when Hamish threw open the doors and said, “Excuse me, my lord.”
“If you’ve come to tell us the lights are out, you’re too late,” the earl snapped.