Christmas Delights by Heather Hiestand Read Free Book Online

along?”
    “Probably.” Penelope rolled over. “Good night, Victoria. Dream up some more of the story, please.”
    “I will.” Victoria pushed her pillow down and inched into a full recline. At least Penelope had given her the excuse to think of something more than her failed seduction for a few minutes. She still felt a little weak in the knees, though, a little tremulous in the heated flesh between her thighs. Resolving to banish Lewis Noble from her thoughts for now, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
     
    “I wish I was old enough to attend,” Penelope said wistfully the next evening, as Victoria straightened the green velvet draping over her Marie Antoinette–style panniers. In her dress, she was nearly four feet wide. She never would have dared such a style when plump, but now it felt like a delicious tease. Her low-cut bodice displayed an ample though very reduced bosom framed in delicate lace. Most of the fabric in this costume went into the skirt.
    A tall blond wig covered her dark curls, giving her a feeling of invisibility even without the green mask attached to a stick that she could hold to her eyes. She had debated hiding her face more fully, but from whom? No one was trying to avoid her, and few in the crowd would even know her name.
    She nodded to the maid when a knock came at the door. When a male voice rumbled, Victoria stood with a cry. “Papa!”
    Tall, broad Rupert Courtnay strode toward her, resplendent in brocaded Louis XVI court dress. A curly white wig covered his graying, thinning hair.
    “You look a decade younger in that costume!” she teased, tugging a curl before hugging him.
    “You are almost as wide as you are tall, daughter,” he said, shaking his head over the elaborate dress.
    “I am sure others will be dressed as extravagantly,” she said, hoping she was right. The masquerade ball was hosted by an earl, after all.
    “I am sure most of the attendees will be digging into their attics,” her father said. “You will be the belle of the ball.”
    “I wouldn’t mind a little male attention. You’ll dance with me, won’t you, Father?”
    He frowned. “I understand you are young and frustrated, Victoria, but I thought you would remain in half-mourning for another six months.”
    “It’s a masquerade ball. No one will know me.”
    He pointed to the mask. “If you wish to be incognito, then that mask is insufficient. Let us trade.”
    She sighed and handed over her mask-on-a-stick. She didn’t like the half-domino style with ribbons that he handed her. They tended to compress her nose and make her sneeze.
    “Keep it on all night,” he cautioned her. “I don’t want you to be disgraced. This party is your chance to enter another level of fashionable society.”
    “I hardly think so, Father. Why, the earl never goes to London. The only other title I’ve heard mentioned is a Scottish baron.”
    “The Marquess of Hatbrook will be here.”
    She shrugged. “He is wed, and he has already attended your parties in London.”
    “I take it you’ve heard of no one who might interest you for a second husband?”
    Her thoughts jumped to the curly white-blond head of Lewis Noble. But he was just another inventor, for all his good looks and working muscle. A step up would be a marriage into the peerage. At the very least, she should find herself another baronet so she didn’t lose a title. When, of course, she was ready to wed again, which wouldn’t be any time soon.
    “Sussex isn’t the place to find a man who will want to run factories in Liverpool someday,” she pointed out.
    “Then I’ll have to live long enough for Penelope to find us a captain of industry.” His smile loosened the beauty mark he’d applied at the corner of his mouth.
    Penelope giggled. “Do you think I’ll marry at eighteen?”
    “I don’t see why not. You’re as cute as a merry lump of coal dancing in the grate.” Rupert pinched his niece’s cheek. “Now get yourself into bed. You