Free Old Acquaintances: Christmas Regency Tale (Regency Tales Book 2) by Gayle Buck

making her way up the stairs.
    When Judith returned from settling Cecily comfortably in bed, she discovered that the gentlemen had taken up residence in the drawing room and that they had been informed by Mrs. Nickleby of Miss Brown’s surprising collapse.
    Sir Peregrine looked over at Judith, his visage a bit sardonic. “Protecting her to the last, are you?” he asked.
    Judith’s already frayed temper flared. She said coldly, “I do not know what you mean, Sir Peregrine.” She turned her shoulder on him then and smiled encouragingly at Lord Baltor, who inquired rather anxiously of Miss Brown. “Miss Brown has apparently contracted a fever from becoming chilled yesterday, but I daresay that she will presently be much better.”
    Lord Baltor was struck with remorse. “It is my fault,” he said hollowly.
    “Indeed it was, your lordship. A heavier-handed whipster I hope never to see! It is a wonder any of us escaped with nothing worse than a few bumps after being tossed hurley-burley into the snow,” said Mrs. Nickleby with a decisive nod. She embarked on an involved recital of the accident to the mail coach and her thoughts on the matter.
    Judith could not stifle an impatient exclamation. Sir Peregrine had the audacity to laugh. Pointedly ignoring him, Judith pinned a smile to her lips and set herself to endure what was left of what had been for the most part a trying day.
    After a moment she heard someone whistling “Good King Wenceslaus”. She turned her head in relief. “Mr. Smith, what a truly happy notion,” she said.
    The gentleman broke off in mid-note, disconcerted and faintly alarmed. But Judith was no longer looking at him. “Lord Baltor, let us do as you once suggested and lift the ceiling with a few Christmas carols.” She seated herself at the pianoforte, the top of which was covered with an arrangement of laurel, bay, and rosemary that filled the air with spicy scent.
    Lord Baltor was completely amenable to the suggestion, especially as it served to distract Mrs. Nickleby from her droning recital. “I am at your service, Miss Grantham,” he said, positioning himself behind her shoulder.
    A carol was quickly agreed upon and they lifted their voices in song. Sir Peregrine came to lean against the pianoforte and added a pleasant baritone. After a small hesitation, the remaining three joined in the singing. When it was done, Judith began playing another familiar old tune and this time the caroling was more resonant.
    An hour had passed in the pleasant exercise when the butler entered the drawing room with a long taper. With some ceremony he lighted the kissing-bough candles, which had been lit for the first time on Christmas Eve and would be again each night of the twelve days of Christmas. As each wick caught, the appearance of the yellow flame was greeted with claps and good humor.
    The company broke up soon afterward and good nights were exchanged. With a quiet request, Sir Peregrine delayed Judith’s exit from the drawing room and he closed the door behind the others. Judith raised her brows in inquiry. She was astonished and obscurely pleased that Sir Peregrine’s expression was exceptionally friendly. She thought that her own expression must reflect the same amicability that had been induced in them all by the caroling.
    Sir Peregrine advanced toward her. “I wished to apologize for my manners earlier in the evening. It was ill-conceived of me to accuse you of spiriting away Cecily under pretense of malaise,” he said.
    Judith was still affected by the surprising pleasantness of the evening and she discovered that his apology put her in complete charity with him. “I have quite forgotten it,” she said with her easy smile.
    Sir Peregrine carried her hand to his lips. “You are gracious, Judith.” He retained hold of her fingers. There was a decided twinkle in his extraordinary blue eyes. “You do realize that we are standing beneath the kissing bough.”
    Judith cast a disconcerted