Hugh smiled at that. The children, it seemed, had the right way of things.

He returned his attention to the adults present. “It is a pleasure to meet you, ladies.”

Mrs. Layton’s dimples flashed again. “Glad you think so. You will find many, many more ladies to meet while you are here. Do not grow overwhelmed by the volume. None of us take offense readily, or we would all be offended every moment we are together.”

“Some of us find offense thrust upon us,” Elinor commented in a pleasant voice that would fool no one.

Hugh glanced over at her out of sheer reaction, knowing he should not.

Her glare at him was icier than the weather outside could ever be, and he was tempted to return to his waylaid carriage for safety.

He cleared his throat and, against all instincts towards self-preservation, stepped more fully into the room. “Might I be of some assistance in here?”

“Doubtful,” Elinor replied without missing a beat.

This time Elinor received a kick that was not so discreet.

“What my sister means,” Mrs. Partlowe said quite firmly, “is that we are all rather hopeless, and it would be monstrously unkind to drag you into this melee. But do please be seated, if you think our conversation might interest you.”

There was no way in the world to know if it would, but considering the only people he really knew in this house were the ones in this room, he might as well stay. One of those people would love to see him drawn and quartered, it was true, but knowing that at least prevented his being surprised by such an attack.

And surely there were enough sensible family members present to restrain her.

He couldn’t say anything resembling such about the others at Deilingh, as he wasn’t acquainted with them as yet.

What if there were more Elinors within?

A shudder rippled through him, and he opted to sit on a nearby ottoman for safety, all the actual seating of the room being currently occupied with various items of greenery.

“Is it not a bit early to hang the holiday greenery?” he queried of the room in general. “Christmas Eve is nearly a week away.”

He saw Elinor stiffen, and he wondered, faintly, if everything he said would irritate her, and if it did, if he could manage to rate the level of irritation based on what he said. Not that he would return to his former villainous ways, but if, in being a respectable houseguest, he could still manage to sin against her sensibilities.

Without actually sinning at all.

“It is indeed,” Mrs. Asheley replied from her pile of evergreen boughs. “And while we do tend towards bending the traditional ways in some things, in this we are mostly traditional. We merely organize and prepare greenery for now, and it will go up the evening before Christmas Eve.” She shrugged, smiling. “It gives us an occupation that keeps us out of mischief, I suppose.”