She was beyond singing anything at the moment, but she swallowed hard and sighed with some regret when Hugh brought her hand back down, holding it carefully in his own.

“Can I?” she asked him, though the question was a foolish one.

Hugh smiled and nodded. “I would like nothing better than to hear you sing again.” He inhaled deeply, then released his breath and dropped his hand from her face, offering her a gallant arm.

Elinor stared at it for a moment, finding something quite sweet in such a gesture. She looped her arm in his, her now freed hand going to his upper arm and rubbing fondly.

“Then sing I shall, sir. Lead me on.”

“With pleasure, Miss Asheley. With pleasure.”

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

There is something quite magical in the air the closer one gets to Christmas day. One might even expect miracles, if so fortunate.

-The Spinster Chronicles, 17 December 1818

The Asheley family were undoubtedly welcoming curses of all sorts for trimming Deilingh with all the greenery and ribbons and anything that could be considered festive the day before Christmas Eve, rather than on Christmas Eve itself.

They had their reasons, their annual Yuletide Ball being the most significant one, so Hugh supposed they wouldn’t be so very cursed.

Besides, what was a little curse among such boisterous and festive spirits?

Hugh rubbed his hands together as he paced the corridor just outside his room. He had been jittery all day, knowing what was to follow in the evening. After such a stunning evening and moment under that fortunately placed mistletoe, he had more hope than any man had a right to feel at one time.

Elinor Asheley was the beginning, center, and end of those hopes.

He had no set design, no speculation, not even a thought of what could possibly come from the ball tonight. After all, he’d attended several balls over the years with Elinor in attendance, and nothing extraordinary had happened at them. He’d been looking at Elinor for years without really seeing her and felt nothing at all in those moments.

Blind, blind fool.

But tonight… Tonight it could all be different.

He was seeing her now. And, if she were to be believed, she was seeing him.

It was strange; she was the first person from his past that he had connected with since he’d considered himself changed, and she had been the one that had terrified him most. Yet she had given him more joy and hope in the last few days than he felt he had a right to expect in his guilt and shame.

She had lightened him, and she was well aware of his burdens. She had made him laugh when he hadn’t laughed in months. She had…

She had made him fall in love with her.

Lord above, was it possible?