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It Must've Been the Mistletoe by L.P. Dover (6)

Seven

Adeline

Watching our guests arrive and climb out of their carriages left me absolutely fascinated. The men were dressed in tail coats and top hats, while the women wore an array of colored gowns with cinched waists and large hoop skirts.

My nerves got the best of me as I noticed the number of people arriving. I’d never been the center of attention at a party. Granted, a part of it did make me excited; it wasn’t every day I could live in history. The sheer detail of my dream was staggering. It was all so real.

I walked downstairs, and a familiar curly, brown-haired woman caught my attention as she turned the corner to the kitchen, wearing the same maid outfit as Helen. My grandmother waved for me to join her in the parlor, standing in a group of women, but I held up a hand and rushed into the kitchen. There was food everywhere, and only one woman by the stove. Her back was to me, but there was no mistaking who it was.

“Margaret?” I called out.

She spun around and smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Why hello, Adeline. How are you enjoying 1865?”

“I should drink wine more often, if this is the result.” I glanced around the kitchen. “It’s actually pretty cool. I never thought I could dream up my dead relatives.”

She giggled. “Jessica told me the 1860s were your favorite. I’m a history fanatic as well.”

“I’m surprised she’s not here in my dream,” I added. Maybe if I thought of her enough, she’d appear.

Margaret shook her head. “She doesn’t belong here. This is your dream. You’re the one who has always wanted to live in the past. I’m sure you can handle the way of life here.”

The wood stove behind her reminded me that the house didn’t have electricity. Then again, nobody did right after the Civil War. It was going to take some getting used to. “Hopefully, I can live without my flat iron,” I teased, earning a smile from Margaret. “I have a question though.” Her brows lifted. “Why does everyone here think I’m Roger and Annaliese’s daughter? Adeline-Jane died in a carriage accident.”

Margaret nodded. “She did. Sadly, she never made it to Asheville. But you did. They don’t know the difference. You can be who you want to be here.”

Thinking about it all made my brain hurt. “This is so freaking weird. I can’t even wrap my head around it. It’s a dream for Christ’s sake.” I walked around the kitchen. Everything felt so real. “I keep waiting to wake up any minute.”

She walked over to me and touched my arm. “It’s not time for that, my dear. Didn’t you want to find your true love?”

I snorted. “Not like it matters. I’m in a dream. As soon as I wake up, it’ll all be over.”

Her grin widened. “Maybe. All I can say is enjoy the time you have here. Not many people get this chance.”

“Adeline,” my great-grandmother called out. I looked over at the kitchen door and when I turned back to Margaret, she was gone. I grabbed a slice of apple off the fruit tray. “I’m losing my mind.”

My great-grandmother opened the kitchen door, her lips pursed. “It’s not polite to keep our guests waiting. Come on. Your aunt and uncles are here to meet you, along with your cousins.”

Helen, and who I assumed to be was Evelyn, came into the kitchen and grabbed the plates of food. I followed my grandmother out into the foyer. The whole house was filled with people, several of whom I recognized from some of the pictures I had back home. It was surreal seeing them all in the flesh.

Once introductions were made, I got a good look at a man standing by the front door, greeting everyone as they came in. I knew upon first look it was Andrew Hamilton, my fifth great-grandfather. It was uncanny how much he looked like my grandpa, with white hair, a square jaw, and a tall, stocky build.

My great-grandmother joined him at the door and waved me over. Andrew smiled down at me and pulled me into his arms. “You look just like your mother. I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

“Same to you,” I whispered, hugging him back. I knew I didn’t belong there, but it sure felt like I did.

Letting me go, he stepped back and beamed. “There are many who want to meet you tonight, young lady.” He nodded toward the line of guests standing at the door. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, my stomach in knots. I stood with them and greeted the guests as they came in. Andrew would occasionally grin at me, nodding in approval. Even his smile reminded me of my grandfather, which made my heart ache. I missed him more than anything.

Once the line had died down, my great-grandfather gently grasped my elbow. “There’s someone I want you to meet. He arrived earlier, before you joined me at the door.”

He nodded toward the parlor, where a young man stared at us. He looked to be around my age, maybe a year or two younger. His dark blond hair was slicked back, and his suit fit him perfectly. Judging by the arrogant grin on his face, he came from money.

My great-grandfather leaned toward my ear. “His name is James Ferguson. He comes from a wealthy background, and his father’s a good friend of mine.” Then he cleared his throat. “But of course, money doesn’t always make a good husband.”

“Or a good wife,” my great-grandmother cut in.

Their sentiments echoed what I’d just told my students the day before. The Hamilton’s hadn’t wanted my great-grandfather marrying someone beneath him, but he chose love over society.

Andrew walked me around the various rooms and introduced me to over a dozen men. But to be honest, I was more interested in the home décor than the potential suitors. The library was magnificent, with its floor to ceiling shelves of books, dark green walls, and the smell of old paper. But the sitting room was my favorite of all. The walls were blue with gold designs to match the gold draperies over the windows. The couch and chairs were a deep, royal blue, surrounding a magnificent, square oak table. It was the perfect set up.

We arrived in the parlor and James met my gaze, his stride prideful as he started toward us. He was extremely good-looking, but I could already sense his cockiness before he even opened his mouth. He bowed his head at my great-grandfather. “Hello, Mr. Hamilton.” When he lifted his head, he turned his blue eyes my way, then back to my great-grandfather. “I was wondering if I could have a few minutes with your granddaughter.”

Andrew glanced down at me and I nodded. “Of course. Adeline, this is Mr. James Ferguson,” he said, waving his hand between us, “Mr. Ferguson, I’d like you to meet Ms. Adeline Hamilton.”

He reached for my hand and chastely kissed the back of it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hamilton. Would you care to accompany me?” He held out his arm and I took it, trying my best to be polite.

“I’d be happy to.”

There were other men in the house who stared at us as we walked from room to room. I felt like a piece of meat on display at a butcher shop. I knew what James was doing. It was evident in the way he held his head high, parading me around.

“What do you do, Mr. Ferguson?” I asked.

“My father owns a steel factory, Ms. Hamilton. One day soon, it’ll be mine.”

“Well, isn’t that nice.”

“It is,” he said, agreeing with a nod. “It’s a lot of responsibility though. If it weren’t for the company, we never would’ve been able to build the railroad. It’s because of us, our city is able to receive the supplies we need.”

“Sounds like the Ferguson’s are important people.” I tried my best not to roll my eyes.

His head lifted. “We are. That’s why it’s pertinent for me to make a good match. And I think you’ll fit in just perfectly.”

An exasperated laugh escaped my lips. Everyone in the room froze and stared at us. Mr. Ferguson looked appalled, like there was something wrong with me. Clearing my throat, I slid out of his hold. “How do you know I’ll fit in with your family?” I asked, taking care to whisper the words. “You don’t even know me.” Even if it was just a dream, I wasn’t going to fall for the first handsome man to spout pretty words. Maybe that was why I was single. I didn’t want to be anyone’s trophy bride.

Mr. Ferguson appeared flustered, his gaze darting around the room. He leaned in close. “You’re beautiful, and a Hamilton. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other later.”

Plastering on a smile, I peered over his shoulder, pretending someone needed me. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Ferguson, but I must be going.” He called my name as I hurried off, but I wasn’t about to look back.

Turning the corner into the adjacent room, I ran right into the arms of a man. His hands wrapped around my bare arms and I gasped. “Oh my. I am so sorry.” When I met his gaze, my breath caught. His chocolate-colored hair was gelled to perfection, and he had a set of smoldering, gray eyes. There was something about him that drew me in. It was as if I’d met him before.

His hands slid down my arms and he stepped back, lips pulling to the side in a sly grin. “Running away a bit fast, weren’t you?”

I glanced over my shoulder at Mr. Ferguson who, judging by his scowl, didn’t like my attention turned on another man. “He’s not exactly my type.”

The deep chuckle that escaped his lips made my stomach flutter. “I’d say not. I think he knows it too. The look on his face when you walked away was priceless.”

Clearing my throat, I couldn’t look away from his mesmerizing gaze. “I’m sorry, but you look familiar; however, I can’t place your face.”

About that time, my great-grandfather walked up, setting a hand on his shoulder. “I see you two have met. Adeline, this is Mr. William Blair. He just moved into town.”

So that was why I recognized him. I’d seen pictures of him before, and he looked exactly like the William Blair of my time. No wonder I was dreaming about him. Jessica had me all nervous about meeting him, and here he was, in my dream.

William reached for my hand and kissed it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Adeline.”

“Likewise.” I did my best curtsy, voice shaking. There was something seriously wrong with me. I’d never felt so flustered around a man before. My great-grandfather grinned at us both and walked off.

William’s focus landed on Mr. Ferguson, who still fumed in his corner of the other room. “How about we take a walk outside? It’s getting a little too crowded in here.”

“I couldn’t agree more. It feels like everyone’s staring.”

Sliding his coat off, he wrapped it around my shoulders. Scents of sandalwood and cedar swarmed around me. It was very masculine and alluring. “It’s because they are,” he murmured. “You’re the highlight of the party.”

I scoffed. “Don’t remind me.”

He nodded toward the door. “Come on, let’s take a walk.” He offered his arm and led me outside. A blast of chilly air swept past us when the door opened. It smelled much cleaner than the air back in my time. However, all I could focus on was William’s scent, and how warm his coat kept me.

As we strolled around the front porch, the view of the mountains was the same, no matter what century—majestic and beautiful. The front porch had always been my favorite part of the house.

“You don’t speak like all the other ladies,” William pointed out curiously.

Leaning against the giant, white column, I faced him. “I’m different.”

He mirrored my stance. “I see that. Maybe that’s why everyone’s so taken with you.”

My heart skipped a beat and my breath hitched. What was it about this man that made me feel alive? “My grandparents arranged this party, solely so I could find a man. But here’s a secret . . . I’m not going to marry just anyone.”

His gaze raked down my body. “You don’t take me as the kind of woman who needs a man to survive.”

That made me laugh. “Thank you for noticing.” I glanced through the window at some of the other young ladies who were no doubt searching for their own prospective husbands. “I’m not like those young women in there, desperate to find a man for survival. Little do they know, there’s an entire world they can explore. They don’t need a husband to do any of it.”

“You’re right. Women are capable of anything. Maybe there’s a man out there who would love to explore with you.”

I snorted. “I’m definitely not going to meet him in there. All those men are younger than me, and clearly need more time to grow up.”

William shook his head. “You’re what . . . thirty?”

My eyes narrowed. “Good guess.” From the looks of him, he had to be a couple years older. “And you are?”

“Thirty-three,” he answered, looking amused.

A small silence blanketed the area as we stared at one another. “So, you just moved into town. Where did you live before?”

Turning his attention to the snowy mountains, he released a heavy sigh. “Here and there. My family wants me to help with their real estate business. We own a lot of land in both North and South Carolina.”

Eyes wide, I sucked in a breath. “Blair Realty?”

“How did you know?” he asked, staring at me in shock. “It hasn’t been made public yet.”

I bit my lip. “I must’ve overheard it.” Blair Realty would become fully established in 1866. I remembered seeing the custom wooden sign Trent had made as a gift for his father. Clearing my throat, I walked past him to the other end of the porch and changed the subject. “So, William, do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“A brother. But he’s not in town right now.”

I turned around and faced him. “Older or younger?”

“Younger. Any siblings for you?”

I shook my head. “Only child. I always wanted a sister. Although, I do have a friend who’s close enough to be considered one. I wish she could be here right now.” Taking a deep breath, I pointed out toward the field, my nerves making me ramble. “If it weren’t dark, I’d say we could walk around the pond. It’s so beautiful out there.”

William closed the distance, his arm brushing against mine as he followed my line of sight. “You can always take me for a tour. I mean, unless you’ll be busy with Mr. Ferguson,” he teased.

I playfully smacked his arm, shocked at my reaction. I was finding reasons to touch him. “Definitely not.” I laughed. “But it’s a date.”

His grin made my insides tingle. “Good. I would say we could do it tomorrow, but we have the baking raffle at the town hall.”

“Don’t remind me,” I said, groaning.

He burst out laughing. “You don’t sound happy about it.”

“What’s there to be happy about? I have to cook a meal for a man I don’t know, and then he gets to be my date to the Christmas party. It’s definitely one-sided.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll pick your basket.”

“I doubt I’ll be that lucky, but I can always wish. You’re the only one here who doesn’t seem like a pompous ass.”

His bark of laughter made me smile. “Glad you approve. I’ll pray that I get your basket.” The wind whipped by us and I shivered. “We should probably get you inside and out of the cold. The party’s almost over.” I didn’t realize how long we’d been away from the party. People had started saying their goodbyes and loading into their carriages.

Mr. Ferguson marched out onto the porch and completely ignored William as he reached for my hand, kissing it gently. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Adeline. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night for the raffle.” Smugly, he glanced over at William and then back to me.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Ferguson. Have a good night,” I said politely.

He waited for a second, maybe hoping I’d say more, but I wasn’t about to. Turning on his heel, he walked down the porch stairs to where Helen’s husband, Jonathan, had his horse and carriage ready.

“I don’t think he’s ready to accept defeat,” William mentioned.

“Obviously not. Then again, men always want what they can’t have.”

William walked me inside and I handed him his coat. “That’s why I always make it a point to get what I want,” he said, his voice low and deep. He did seem like the kind of man who never settled for anything other than what he deemed best. Everything inside of me trembled as he smiled.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I whispered breathlessly.

He slipped on his coat, his gray eyes boring into mine. “Until then.”