Lord Hampford sat in his usual spot at the head of the table, and all three Stringhams took to one side, leaving her alone with Trevor on the other. Mary did not have time to feel out of place, for the butler and the footmen began to serve all the dishes at the same time. The Stringhams had hearty appetites and rarely spoke much at dinner. Harper poured wine in their glasses, but Mary wisely abstained. She had already drunken quite enough for that day, and she needed her wits about her with her charges.
She quietly ate, whilst Lord Hampford drew Trevor out into conversation. He asked him about his education, his opinion of theBook of Common Prayer,and listened attentively to his answers. The duke’s final question was on whether Trevor believed that animals would be in heaven. Luckily, her betrothed answered in the affirmative.
After the last dinner course was served, Mary herded the girls out of the room like sheep so that the gentlemen could drink port and smoke cigars. The duke only followed this gentlemen’s practice when there were guests. He never filtered or censured his conversation for his daughters. Something that had caused her to blush more than once, but she supposed that young ladies who had witnessed the mating habits and births of many different creatures were hardly considered delicate.
Frederica moved to the pianoforte and began playing “Angels We Have Heard on High.” Helen and Becca flanked each side of her and sang. The one thing that Mary had taught them. The Stringhams had lost a daughter many years before, and since Elizabeth’s untimely death, no one had sung. But when Lord Cheswick courted Lady Louisa, the family began to talk more openly of their sister who died of scarlet fever. It was about the same time that Mary was hired. And last year Helen and Becca had asked her to teach them how to sing. Helen’s voice was low and breathy, but Becca had a lovely soprano.
Whilst Frederica was always happy to accompany them, she never sang. Mary thought that it was because she remembered Elizabeth more than her younger sisters. Elizabeth’s twin sister, Mantheria, was the Duchess of Glastonbury, and she did not sing either. She had confided to Mary that she felt the loss of her identical twin more than anyone else. Mantheria was close to her same age and treated Mary like an equal, rather than her little sisters’ governess. She was a dear friend and wrote to Mary at least once a fortnight.
Mary wished that Mantheria was here with them now. Even if she would not sing. Her three little sisters made a lovely trio, and they all wore evening gowns of white, making them appear like angels. Which Mary knew they were not.
Lord Hampford came into the room, followed by Trevor. When he stood in the doorway, Frederica stopped playing and pointed at Trevor. “You are standing underneath the mistletoe. Now you must kiss the first lady that you see—I believe that is Miss Perkins.”
Both Mary and Trevor glanced up to see a sprig of green leaves and white berries tied by a red silk string that matched the one in her hair. Undoubtedly, the girls had placed it there for just this reason. Where did they find the time to come up with such involved schemes?
“Go on, Miss Perkins,” Helen said, waving her hand. “You do not want Poor Trevor to have bad luck. He has already had a most unfortunate year.”
She was certain that her face was as red as a Christmas cranberry, as was Trevor’s. Even his neck was flushed until it reached his collar. He seemed rooted on the spot underneath the mistletoe. Taking a calming breath, a tactic she used frequently with regard to her charges, she stepped toward him and lightly brushed her lips against his warm cheek. This small gesture thrilled Mary to her toes. He smelled of clover and musk and tasted both sweet and salty. She longed to lean closer to him. To feel his body against hers again like when they hugged, but such behavior would be considered wanton in a daughter of a clergyman.
“That does not count, Miss Perkins,” Becca said in her loudest of voices. “You must kiss him on the lips. It is society’s rules, and you are always talking about how important it is to follow the rules of society.”
“Extremely important,” added Helen.
Mary stepped closer to Trevor, the tips of her slippers touching his polished boots. It felt like an eternity before he placed his hands tentatively on her shoulders and his mouth on hers. Neither of them had ever kissed anyone, and yet, when he moved his warm lips over her own, it did not feel awkward. Quite the opposite. His soft, wet lips against hers felt like perfection. Her entire body hummed with happiness and hope.
Smiling, he stepped back from her. “Is that adequate, my ladies?”
Blushing, Mary turned to see her charges and the duke watching them intently.
“Later I will give you a few pointers on technique,” Lord Hampford said. “Several species have the most intriguing ways to mate.”
Mary could have fainted away on the spot.
Frederica put a hand on her hip. “That is a good start, but Mary, next time you need to hold him too. A lady should not be passive in a kiss. It is called an embrace for a reason.”
Mary wrapped her arms around her waist. There was nothing she would like more than to hold Trevor closely, but she had been taught that such things were only for marriage. And a wedding between them seemed less likely every day.
“I do not think that any of my daughters know how to be passive,” Lord Hampford said urbanely.
Helen and Becca both elbowed their father. All the Stringham girls were excellent elbowers. Their father only chuckled.
Frederica sat back down at the pianoforte. “I want to sing Christmas carols.”
Her nimble fingers began playing “In the Bleak Midwinter.” But the song felt anything but bleak. Lord Hampford had his arms around Helen and Becca’s shoulders as all three of them sang. The duke was rather off-key, but his exuberance felt infectious.
Gathering up her courage, Mary placed Trevor’s hand in her own and pulled him toward the pianoforte. Taking a breath, she began to sing the alto part and Trevor the bass. They turned the carol into a beautiful four-part harmony. Mary had always loved singing Christmas carols, but tonight was something special. Somethingmore.
Trevor released her hand and Mary’s heart sank for a moment, until he placed his arm around her shoulders. He gave her a look as if to say, “Is this all right?”
It felt more than all right. She snuggled closer against him and continued to sing.
“But what can I give him?
Give him my heart
Give him my heart.”
Chapter 5