Page 13 of Once Upon a Gilded Christmas (To All The Earls I’ve Loved Before #4)

A cold draft woke Honora the next morning. Juliana had left the blankets down when she got out of bed.

Honora rolled over to pull them back up. There she saw a bundled Juliana at the window, curtains drawn open, staring out. The cold light of morning brightened the bedroom. “What are you doing?” she asked her daughter in a sleepy voice.

Juliana didn’t turn from the window. “It’s snowing.”

Snow? Here in London? Granted, they were the edge of London though not quite country.

Honora pulled her dressing gown about her and came to the window.

Their bedroom looked out across the back garden.

A gentle dusting of white coated the conifers.

Enough snow lay on the mown lawn to show the delicate pawprints of a small animal scurrying for shelter.

All was still. Not a sound could be heard.

A blue sky overhead promised the encroaching dawn.

When the sun rose, would it melt all this winter wonderland away or would it make the world sparkle like a thousand diamonds?

“Who knew snow could look so beautiful?” Juliana sighed. It never looked like this in the heart of London. While winter was always dark and cold, it rarely snowed. When it did, it was brief and light, often melting away by the next morning.

But today? The world wore a diaphanous gown of magic.

“We should go out and play in it before it disappears.” Honora hoped her pattens were sufficient to protect her feet. Snow could be slippery, she had heard.

Imagine, they’d slept through the entire snowfall. Unlike rain, snow fell in silent flakes. One would not know it was snowing unless one was out watching it fall.

Honora hurried to the bellpull to summon the maid. “Do let’s go.”

Juliana stared at her mother, open-mouthed. “You mean to go out and play in it? Like a child?”

Honora rifled through the wardrobe for a walking gown suitable for the weather. “If we do not go now, its magic may fade away.”

“Snow holds magic?” As if it were a silver sixpence or enchanted ribbon?

Honora couldn’t help but smile. “Not actually magic. Something far more powerful. Are you coming?”

A petulant maid appeared at the door. Juliana hesitated, unsure.

After passing her instructions to the maid, Honora approached her daughter.

“If you don’t know, come. Best to confirm that it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, rather than wonder for the rest of your life if it could have been the best thing that’s you’ve ever seen.

Besides, this is the country,” or close enough to it. “I’ll bet it tastes different.”

“You can eat snow?!”

Outside, the world remained ever so quiet.

Not even the song of a robin broke the stillness.

It seemed a crime against God and Nature to crunch their feet through the fallen snow.

Honora and Juliana stood mittened hand-in-hand as they observed the beauty of the winter world.

Their breath puffed out in clouds above their mufflers.

Had she ever seen anything so beautiful? Juliana hadn’t, not like this. She’d only seen the occasional remains of snow from a carriage in London—dirty, grey, slushy, awful. This was like nothing else.

Honora reached out to a nearby hedge and scooped up a white handful. From the house it had looked like whipped meringue or divinity. Up close, it looked more like white sugar, shaved off the cone.

Didn’t taste like it, though. The child in her heart was disappointed that it was not sweet. But it had its own distinctive flavour, a pleasant, dusty or smoky taste, ever so subtle.

What if one were to pour cream and sugar on it? Then what would it taste like?

A light crunching shook Honora out of her reverie. They were not alone in their enjoyment of the snow.

Edward, bundled up tight against the cold, approached from the house. “Chilly morning, eh?”

Something about him warmed Honora’s heart. “We had to see the snow before it disappeared.”

Juliana sighed and rolled her eyes. “My feet are getting cold.”

Honora glanced down. Juliana had worn her walking boots, but not any pattens. Already the leather had darkened from the damp. “You can go in if you want.” Though it would be better if she stayed to watch the snow.

Juliana crunched her way back to the house, leaving Honora and Edward alone.

“She doesn’t feel the magic,” Honora said in way of explanation.

Once they were alone, Edward put his arms about her. “She’s never seen snow like we have.”

“We’ve never seen snow like this—well, not together. “

Edward murmured warm in her ear, “But we did see snow fall. For one brief moment, it was only you and me and the snow.”

Memories washed over her. "Ah yes." Honora tilted her head. “We have unfinished business.”

Thirty years ago...

For the next outing with Lord Charles and his sister, Honora Radcliffe had taken Lady Calpurnia's advice and never again ventured out with no more than a couple of charms about her.

The acrostic ring, of course, for she wished to keep Lord Charles thinking that their betrothment was still a good idea, and maybe a necklace or pair of earrings?

She'd chosen Beauty this time, for what else did she have to recommend herself?

This time when the Mildmays picked her up, they took her to a rather tepid party hosted by the Baron Carteret. Honestly! Did they not know anyone of interest? Granted, the Marchioness of Bath could be a wild one, but everyone else of their circle bored Honora to tears.

While Lord Charles didn't exactly ignore her during the carriage ride, leaving his sister to hold up the lion's share of the conversation, he could have made some effort to be personable.

No matter. Out was out. Still, Honora wished she’d brought more charms. Maybe next time she could bring something enchanted with Personality and stick it in Lord Charles' pocket. As it was, he was not doing a good job at holding up his end of the discussion.

Eventually, she let silence slide in between them. With him not paying much attention to her, and her not letting it get awkward, she found it more bearable than not.

Baron Carterer and his pudgy wife had thrown a small sort of crush. Not a ball, not a dinner, just some sort of random gathering with no obvious purpose in mind.

When they got to the party, Lord Charles perked up, especially in male company. His fellows greeted him enthusiastically. If it wasn’t for Honora tucking her arm in his, he’d have forgotten she was there.

The lady wives of his fellows didn’t miss her. Turns out of the three noblemen who had pulled Lord Charles in were married. One of them, Lady Alton, took Honora’s other arm as if they were the best of friends. "So good to meet you," she gushed.

Lady Alton was no longer fresh of face. While she wore the latest of fashion, all panniers and ruffles and bows with her face painted in the French fashion, the only thing that made her not look ridiculous was the thick wave of magic that flowed off her.

Honora recognised some of the flavours of magic: Youth dominated so much she wasn’t able to identify any of the other charms.

“Is it your first Season too?” Honora blurted out before realising what she’d said. “I mean, no, it can’t be. Not if you’re already married.” She bit her lip, wishing she could take back her words.

This set all three ladies laughing. “Such a charming creature,” Lady Alton said. “I like her, Charles.”

He looked down at Honora, as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Oh, yes. Political marriage,” he replied, with some satisfaction. "One of the Earl of Derwent's daughters."

Lady Alton nodded. “Fortune has smiled upon you that she is also a pretty thing. So fresh." With that, she tucked her arm into Lord Charles' other one, effectively framing him between her and Honora.

Turned out the fellows and Lord Charles were content to keep company.

For the rest of the evening, Lady Alton and Lord Charles spent deep in conversation.

Honora didn’t care. What could she do? Lady Alton was so thoroughly soaked in magic, Honora would never have had a chance, should she have wanted Lord Charles’ attention. Somehow, his arm had released her.

Little by little, Honora found herself nudged further and further out of the circle.

Not that it really mattered. She didn’t need to be the centre of attention.

Still, it would have been nice to feel she’d been included, even wanted.

Even Lady Calpurnia had found a couple of matrons with which to chat leaving Honora quite on her own.

Normally, this would be where one could say, “Excuse me, I think I shall seek out some refreshment,” but there was no one to whom she could excuse herself.

So she left the circle.

Not that the refreshment table was much better.

She picked among the little cakes and sandwiches, all of which had seen fresher moments.

People came and went, grabbing what they wanted without a second thought, then returned to their friends, their conversations, leaving Honora on her own.

She sighed, so underwhelmed with her solitude.

"This is the most boring party I have ever attended," she said out loud.

As yet another person passed by, he leaned over and murmured, “Or you could follow me…” before departing.

Honora looked up.

Edward Russell. She'd not forgotten that face. He threw a conspiratorial smile over his shoulder before moseying his way to the ballroom doors. He paused, as if waiting for nothing.

Honora glanced around. Absolutely no one was paying attention to her, least of all, Lord Charles.

Why not? Anything was better than being alone in a crowd of people.

He slipped out the doors and she followed. The doors led to a wide balcony overlooking the front of the house. Down on the streets of London more carriages arrived, dropping off further guests for the party.

It wasn’t as if the balcony was empty. Several other couples and trios took advantage of the cooler air. The only light came from the doors of the ballroom and the lamps in the street below.