Merry Misrule - St. Clair, Ellie Page 0,2
his arm and was on the opposite side of him.
“What do you think you are doing?” she asked, two splotches of red appearing on her cheeks. He wished they were from desire, but he came to the unfortunate conclusion that they were most likely caused by anger. He scratched his head.
“Well, we were underneath the mistletoe, and—”
She lifted a hand, and he flinched, for a moment anticipating a slap, but instead she held her finger in the air in admonishment.
“If you ever— and I mean ever— attempt to kiss me again, especially without my permission, then you will regret ever coming home. Do you understand me?”
She was rigid, practically shaking with fury, and Eli finally realized that whatever notion this woman held toward him, it was of the very worst sort.
“I understand,” he said softly, taking a step back, also realizing just how grossly he had misconstrued the situation. “And I am sorry — for this, and for whatever wrong I have caused you to suffer.”
For a moment, her anger dropped, but she seemed to steel it back up again.
“If only it were so simple,” she said, shaking her head. “But the fact that you don’t even remember me, let alone what happened — well, that says more than any apology ever could.”
He could do naught but watch helplessly as she stormed away down the hallway, her red skirts furiously snapping around her legs.
“Joanna?” A voice called out.
He whipped his head around as he saw his sister emerging from the drawing room, following the unknown woman down the hall.
“Jo—Eli?” She stopped when she saw him, looking back and forth between the woman’s retreating back and where he stood with his hands on his hips.
“Oh, Eli,” she tilted her head as she looked at him with dismay, “what did you do?”
“What do you mean, what did I do?” he said defensively. Why did everyone always think he had done something?
Probably because he usually had. He rubbed his brow, dismayed that nothing had changed here — especially his family’s regard toward him.
“Did you talk to Joanna?”
“Joanna?”
“Yes,” she said, pointing to the red dress that was now rounding the corner away from them. “Did you talk to her?”
“Perhaps,” he muttered. “But tell me — just who is Joanna?”
Now it was his sister’s mouth that fell open.
“You don’t remember Joanna?” she asked. “My closest friend, Joanna Merryton? The one who used to spend Christmas with us when we were home from finishing school? The one you tortured?”
“Tortured? I don’t recall ever torturing anyone. I know I played a few practical jokes, sure, but—”
Suddenly he realized just who she was talking about.
“Joanna? That woman is Joanna?”
It was his turn to be shocked.
“That can’t be the same Joanna. Your friend Joanna is… well, she was… plain. Pudgy. Pedestrian. This woman is stunning.”
From what he could remember, anyway.
“Yes.” Caroline crossed her arms over her chest. “She is. She is one of those women who took some time to grow into her looks.”
Had she ever. Her pudginess had developed into delicious curves. Her hair, which at the time had always been pulled back into tight braids around her head, now was shiny, sleek, polished. Her green eyes would have previously been hidden by spectacles. Those, it seemed, were now gone as well.
She had been awkward. Now she was astonishing.
He realized he was still staring down the hallway.
“Did I… did I do anything to her to cause her such disregard for me?”
“Do you truly have no memory of her at all?” Caroline asked, one eyebrow crooked.
She was partially right. He was lacking a few memories, but now wasn’t the time to share all of his failings with his sister.
“Er… they are somewhat foggy. Can you enlighten me?” he asked.
“Well, there was the time you pretended you were going to kiss her underneath the mistletoe and then held out the dog instead while all of your friends watched.”
Eli swallowed hard.
That could explain her hesitancy when he had pointed out where they had found themselves.
“And then there was the time that you placed coal in her stocking, replacing all of the gifts Mother had bought for her — gifts that would have been the first she had received in years.”
“No…”
“But worst of all, was the time when you stole the pocket watch her grandmother had given her, then gave it to Cecily Cummings for Christmas because you were sweet on her. Joanna went to Cecily and begged for its return, but Cecily refused.”
Eli’s own cheeks were warming now.
“I really did all