Page 13 of Mr Winterbourne's Christmas

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AS THE AFTERNOON WOREon, Adam gradually made his way round the other guests gathered in the drawing room. After his long overdue reunion with Simon, he was introduced to Major Gould and his wife. The major transpired to be a longstanding friend of Lord Winterbourne. Adam found him irritatingly officious, with a manner that suggested he was somehow in charge of the party, despite not being its host. As for Mrs. Gould, during the course of their exceedingly short conversation, she somehow managed to make at least three disapproving comments about other guests.

Adam was only too pleased to escape them.

Next, Althea led him to a small group who, so far, had made little effort to talk to anyone else—a grandly dressed lady and two very fashionable gentlemen.

“Sir Edmund,” Althea said, addressing the older gentleman in the group. “May I introduce my brother-in-law, Mr. Adam Freeman?”

Sir Edmund offered a lazy smile along with his hand. His gaze was very direct and lingered for a beat too long, making Adam wonder if he preferred men.

The lady of the group was a handsome, dark-haired woman in her late thirties or early forties.

“My sister,” Sir Edmund drawled, “Mrs. Thewlis.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am,” Adam bowed over her hand. She inclined her head politely.

“And this—” Sir Edmund went on, gesturing at the third member of their party, “is my sister’s intended, Signor Gallo.”

Gallo was a handsome fellow—Italian presumably, with a dark complexion and melting brown eyes. He appeared a good decade younger than Mrs. Thewlis. He was an artist, he explained, a portrait painter.

Althea and Sir Edmund began talking about some mutual acquaintance, leaving Adam to converse with Mrs Thewlis and Gallo, neither of whom seemed inclined to give more than monosyllabic answers to Adam’s polite questions. After a few minutes of excruciating small talk, he was grateful to see Simon approaching again.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Simon said to Mrs. Thewlis. “I’m afraid I have to steal my brother away.” He glanced at Adam. “Althea’s great-aunt wants to meet you.”

“Of course,” Adam replied, probably too enthusiastically. He offered a brief bow to Mrs Thewlis and nodded at Gallo.

As they strolled away, Simon said under his breath, “Sorry about this.”

“No apology necessary,” Adam said. “I’m glad you rescued me.”

“That’s not why I’m apologising. Wait till you meet great-aunt Maud.”

Adam remembered the other great-aunt of Lysander’s he’d met—Lady Beresford. A horror of a woman who’d looked down her nose at him and disdainfully offered him two fingers to shake. God, he hoped this one wasn’t like her. He’d barely kept his temper last time.

Thankfully though, the lady Simon led him to was nothing like the hatchet-faced Lady Beresford. She was a dainty, pink-cheeked old lady with kind, twinkling eyes and a piece of embroidery work sitting on her knee. At her side sat a sober-looking young woman with light brown hair and faded blue eyes. She wore a demure gown of dove grey and sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap.

“Here we are, Mrs. Winterbourne,” Simon said. “This is the gentleman you were asking about—my brother, Mr. Adam Freeman.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Freeman,” Mrs Winterbourne said, in a high, twittering sort of voice. She offered her hand and as Adam bowed over it, added in the same polite tone, though directing her comments to the young woman this time. “Isn’t he handsome, Anne dear? And he appears to have a very sizeable co—”

“I’m Anne Greenhill,” the young woman interrupted brightly. “Mrs. Winterbourne’s companion. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Freeman.”

Stifling the laughter threatening to burst out of him, Adam released the old lady’s hand and turned to bow to the young woman.

“And you, Miss Greenhill,” he replied, before glancing at Simon, who was looking pained and amused in equal measure.

“Will you be playing the pianoforte for us again this evening, Miss Greenhill?” Simon asked in a blatant change of subject. “Your performance yesterday evening was very enjoyable. Don’t you agree, Mrs. Winterbourne?”

“Oh yes, Anne plays beautifully,” the old lady agreed.

Between the efforts of Miss Greenhill and Simon, the conversation remained on a reasonably even keel for the next few minutes, though Adam noticed Miss Greenhill quite suddenly interrupting Mrs. Winterbourne once or twice, as though to head off another shocking remark. She was very adept it, he thought, and Mrs. Winterbourne seemed to take it in remarkably good part.

Once a polite quarter hour had passed, Adam excused himself. Finally, he was free to make his way to Lysander’s side.

As he crossed the drawing room, he watched Lysander conversing with his companions. That ever-errant lock of golden hair tumbled over Lysander’s forehead and Adam felt a tug of affection at the sight. His hand itched to smooth it back, but there could be no touching between them here.

The young god was still standing beside him, though now there was a young lady too, a pert little thing with fair hair and an impish smile.