There was tomorrow’s Christmas party for their family and closest friends, but he could hardly expect to be poignantly moved among such company. Adelaide would not necessarily consider herself on display before the Roskelleys, Gage Trembath, and Emblyn, but neither would she be completely unguarded. It would be good for them to have an intimate gathering like that, particularly when she was planning a truly extraordinary event for Twelfth Night.

He was doing his utmost to vacate whatever room in the house he was inhabiting when the subject came up, for fear of what she might inquire of him.

All he knew for certain was that she had planned a masquerade.

He hated masquerades.

She likely already had a costume for him, negating whatever opinions he might have had on the subject, and enhancing whatever ideas she built up in her head for herself. It would not surprise him a jot if he were given the costume of King Henry VIII, and she were given the identity of one of his murdered queens, complete with a bloodstained line across her throat.

Except lately, they hadn’t fought with the kind of venom such a costume would call for, so perhaps it would not be so dramatic. He had no doubt she would want something extraordinary for herself, but what accompaniment he could provide for her designs was a mystery.

The image of her being a meek and lovely shepherdess while he was forced into the costume of a sheep suddenly flitted into his mind, and he shook his head as a shudder raced up his spine.

The fact that it was not out of the realm of possibilities was the most unsettling part of the idea.

“Pardon me, my lord,” a man called from the outer hall as he passed by. “Any idea where ‘er ladyship wanted these garlands an’ things?”

Harrison paused his step, staring at the yards upon yards of holly, ivy, swags of evergreen, and clumps of mistletoe, their white berries glinting ominously at him.

He blanched in response. “I haven’t the faintest idea. Have you been told—?”

“Ah! Most excellent, Triggs. Do come in, you and your men.” Adelaide appeared from somewhere behind Harrison, her hand trailing absently along the small of his back as she reached him. “Didyou manage to secure the ash as discussed?”

“Ay, milady,” Triggs grunted, heaving his hoard over a shoulder and striding in, followed by several others. “Cut in size and ready for wha’ever fire ee please. Did the wife see yer bunches delivered?”

Adelaide almost squealed in response, prodding Harrison to stare at her in bewilderment. “She did! They are utterly stunning, and I’ve had all five hung about the place. She is a wonder, sir.”