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Mischief Under the Mistletoe

BLURB:

Every romance needs a bit of mischief. . .

At her eighteenth birthday celebration Jenny Crowley’s parents announce that instead of having the London Season she’s dreamed of for years, Jenny has actually been betrothed from birth to Alexander Isley, son of family friends and heir to a title. A distraught Jenny refuses point-blank to marry Alec, and when her aunt offers to whisk her away to a festive Christmas house party–complete with many eligible young bachelors–Jenny jumps at the chance to enjoy a variety of entertainments, be courted, and perhaps find the man of her dreams.

Alec Isley is between a rock and a hard place. He desires a marriage with Jenny about as much as she does, but when his family’s dire financial status comes out, he follows Jenny to the house party in hopes of convincing her to marry him after all. When he discovers who else is courting her there, Alec is frantic to keep her from making a horrible mistake. Struggling with his unexpected new-found feelings for his childhood friend, can Alec convince her of his love in time to save her from being ruined under the mistletoe?

I’m jumping ahead to Jenny’s introduction to Lady Celinda Grantham at the Christmas house party Jenny’s Aunt Arabella invites her to. Enjoy!

EXCERPT:

Her aunt and her friends had resumed their conversation. Their daughters, however, surrounded her like hunters closing in for the kill.

“Have you just arrived, Miss Crowley?” One young lady, dressed in blue with gilt trim—was it Lady Mary?—arched her neck in a superior way.

Before she could answer, quite the tallest lady of the group grasped her arm and exclaimed, “What a pretty frock you have on. Did you get that in London?”

Jenny stood tongue-tied as the questions came fast and thick.

“Are you related to the Duke and Duchess of Beddingfield–their family name is Crowley.”

“No, their name is Crawley, Caroline.”

“Indeed, Anna, I know it is Crowley because Lady Grace Winthorpe married a younger son and—”

“You look like you could use a cup of tea right now,” said a petite blonde in a sweet pink and cream sprigged dress, holding out a steaming cup toward her.

And a little bit more…

“Here, let’s go sit away from all the fuss.” The young lady motioned toward a pair of chairs in a cozy corner away from the fireplace. “Ladies, please go back to your places. Let Miss Crowley have a minute to accustom herself to our company.”

Jenny smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you.” She hesitated. Was this Lady Diana or Miss Newel?

“Lady Celinda Grantham,” the blonde supplied with a little tinkling laugh. “It’s always impossible to remember which face belongs to which name when they throw them at you all at once. It’s easier for me, since there’s only one of you.” She smiled, crinkling her eyes and drawing a dimple out of her left cheek. “You’re Miss Crowley, from Lancashire, is that correct?”

“Please call me Jenny,” she said, dropping gratefully into the plush chair. “I’m not at all used to being called Miss Crowley.”

Lady Celinda seated herself in the companion chair, smoothing out her skirts. She cocked her head. “And I insist you call me Celinda. But why are you not used to your address?”

“I’ve only just become Miss Crowley. I’ve been plain Jenny up until my birthday, ten days ago.” She sipped her tea, wanting to groan with pleasure as the hot, fragrant beverage slid down her throat.

“Ah, a happy birthday wish is in order.” Lady Celinda leaned forward and bounced in her chair. “Then you will be coming out this spring?