He hadn’t even been here a week, and now he was in love with someone he had known and despised for years. He couldn’t deny it, the truth of the statement filled his heart and soul with glory. He loved her vibrancy and wit, her candor and her laugh, he loved the way her smile was slightly greater on her right side than left, that her eyes saw everything around her, and that she muttered under her breath no matter the circumstance.

She wanted sincerity in a man, she’d said.

Well, he was pretty bloody sincere at the moment, and when the moment was right, she would see that.

He loved her.

A wild laugh bubbled up within him, and he faintly pounded a fist against the wall with it.

Love.

So, this was what had turned his brother Francis into the man Hugh had considered to be a lovesick fool.

Lovesick his brother undoubtedly had been and was, but Hugh could no longer consider him a fool. Or, if he was, then they both were.

What a strange bond this was.

It was a pity Francis was not here now. Hugh desperately needed the advice of someone who had been through this mess, and it would help immensely if it was someone he could trust.

Francis would give him hell for it, but no more than Hugh deserved.

There would be time for that soon enough. If all went well, it would all happen quite soon.

For now, there was just tonight, and the Yuletide Ball.

Hugh patted the wall and pushed off of it, now striding to the stairs and practically dancing down them. Very faintly, he could hear the musicians beginning to tune, preparing for the guests and the dance. Supper would come later, and was destined to be excessive, as was everything else with this family, but he didn’t mind that.

He was rather beginning to enjoy it, actually.

The musicians began to play a jaunty tune, and Hugh found himself whistling along as he entered the ballroom, pausing for a moment to appreciate the spectacle of the room. If Christmas could have decorated for its own ball, it had done so here. The room even seemed to smell of the festive greenery, mulled wine, Yule log… Every scent that could make one believe it was Christmas was alive in this room.

“Quite the sight, isn’t it?”

Hugh turned with a smile to Elinor’s father as he came beside him. “Indeed, Mr. Asheley. I can safely say I have never seen anything like it.”

That seemed to please the man, and he looked around the room proudly. “A great compliment, that. We do try to do the thing properly at Christmas.”