Mistletoe and Mayhem: A Regency Holiday Romance Anthology, page 61
The sound of the door latching caught her by surprise. She spun on her heel and discovered she and Julius were alone. He sauntered toward her with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.
“Julius, there are dozens of guests on the other side of that door.”
“No one will disturb us. Ned is keeping watch.” He gathered her in his arms, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all evening.”
She twined her own arms around his neck and lifted to her toes. He held her securely against his chest. “I’ve wanted the same,” she admitted.
Over the last few days, Bess had come to accept that she was a woman who took risks. She always had been, even when others attempted to stifle her nature. Passion flowed through her veins, as steady and constant as the River Thames. She couldn’t change who she was any more than she could reverse the river’s current, and she refused to pretend otherwise any longer.
Julius placed a sweet kiss on her lips before releasing her. “That must satisfy us for now. Have a seat on the sofa. I said I have a gift for you.”
With a groan of protest, she dropped her arms and trudged to the sofa. “I don’t have anything to give in return.”
He opened a drawer in the side table and aimed a smile at her. “When I am with you, what more could I want?”
She rolled her eyes. “You really are a silver-tongued devil, you know. It is unfair to ladies everywhere.”
“You didn’t find me charming when we first met.”
“I was in possession of my faculties back then,” she teased. “Although I am much happier now that I’ve lost them.”
He extracted a small leather box tied with a blue ribbon from the drawer, plopped on the sofa beside her, and offer it to her as if delivering it on a serving tray.
“What is it?” She shook it gingerly next to her ear. “It sounds like metal.”
He propped his arm across the back of the sofa and crossed his ankle over his knee. “You can guess all night or open it. Your choice.”
His relaxed posture suggested he meant it. It felt strange to be afforded power to make her own decisions, and it was intoxicating. She dropped the box on her lap and captured his face for a big smacking kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”
He laughed. “You haven’t opened it yet.”
“I know.” She grasped the edge of the ribbon and untied the bow. Inside the box, lying on a bed of red velvet, was a familiar cameo set in gold.
“I saw you admiring it yesterday when the peddler came around,” he said.
Gypsies had an encampment on the far reaches of Lord Seabrook’s estate. The family had been coming for years, according to Julius, and as long as the gypsies didn’t poach on the neighbors’ property and caused no trouble in the village, Lord Seabrook saw no reason to summon the magistrate.
Bess had asked the peddler where he acquired the piece, and he’d told a fanciful tale about Caesar having gifted it to Cleopatra. When she challenged his story, he narrowed his eyes and slipped the necklace into a pocket before she could examine it.
“Do you like it?” Julius asked.
She nodded and traced the lady’s milky white profile before flipping the pendant to view the back. It was a blank oval with no engraving. In her heart, she’d known it couldn’t be her mother’s necklace. It had been years since Bess’s father had stolen the piece from her jewelry box and vowed she would never see it again. She’d dared to defy him, so he punished her by taking away the only evidence her mother once existed.
He’d destroyed her mother’s portrait and sent her clothing to charity days after her death. Years of suppressed heartache and frustration swelled beneath Bess’s breastbone. Scalding tears flooded her eyes.
Julius inhaled sharply and sat upright. “Bess, have I done something wrong?”
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak for fear the ugliness of her past would spew from her like acid and erode the happiness of their last few days together.
He lovingly rubbed his palm in a circle on her back and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Sweetheart, something has upset you. Won’t you confide in me?”
She bolted from the sofa. “It’s not you, I promise. I-I need a moment.”
The footman posted outside jumped when she burst through the door. She darted around him in her haste to escape.
Chapter Eleven
Bess hurried toward the staircase, intent upon reaching her guest chamber to regain control of herself. She kept her gaze trained on the pale green and ivory Aubusson carpets lining the corridor as she passed other guests chatting with one another away from the noisy ballroom. When she reached the great hall doorway, she tried to catch a glimpse of Gemma, but a broad shouldered gentleman with tawny hair stood in the middle, blocking her view. He must have sensed her presence, because he turned.
“Elisabeth!”
Her wince was involuntary, a reaction to encountering something unpleasant.
“I’d heard you were a fellow guest,” Merrick said.
“Lord Aberglen, it appears you are better informed than I. I’ve not heard your name mentioned since season’s end.” And she preferred it that way.
The Earl and Countess of Aberglen were darlings of Society. Beloved by all. Lauded for their fashionable parties. Admired for their attractiveness and charming offspring. The unending adoration for the rogue was enough to make Bess nauseous. The saying about reaping what one sows was a lie. Liars like Merrick rarely received what they deserved.
“How do you know Lord and Lady Seabrook?” he asked.
She suppressed a sigh. Engaging in chitchat with the man who’d once toyed with her heart and humiliated her was too much to ask. “They are recent acquaintances.”
Merrick spoke in a conspiratorial whisper, “Lady Aberglen’s sister has come to meet Lord Treyhurst in the hope of bringing him up to scratch. The ladies in the family set their sights high, do they not?”
Bess almost rolled her eyes while he laughed at what he apparently thought made him seem clever. Had he always been arrogant or was she too blinded by the sheen of first love to see him clearly?
“My wife traveled to Everly Manor last week as her sister’s chaperone. I only arrived yesterday evening.” He flashed the winsome smile that set hearts aflutter in the ballrooms. It did nothing for her anymore. “I couldn’t bare to spend Christmas away from family.”
“You’ve brought your children to the house party?”
“A house party is no place for children. God’s blood, Elisabeth, think.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if it pained him to have to explain. “The children are under the care of their grandparents.”
“I see,” she murmured.
“May I speak with you in private?”
Without waiting for consent, he grasped her upper arm and propelled her along the corridor in the opposite direction from Julius. He dragged her into a room around the corner, releasing her before she gathered the wherewithal to react.
She crossed her arms and put distance between them. “Leave the door ajar.”
“Darling”—his laugh was mocking—“that ship has sailed.”
Her palm ached to slap the smugness from his chiseled face.
“I am a married man, or have you forgotten?” He echoed the words she’d uttered years earlier when he’d had the gall to suggest their relationship need not end due to a change in his marital status.
“Address me as Lady Hadley,” she snapped. “I, too, was married.”
“Indeed. I was sorry to hear of Lord Hadley’s passing. I understand the union resulted in no children?”
“Again, you are well informed. One might think you have been keeping abreast of my affairs.”
“You know how gossip makes the rounds,” he said.
The blackguard was probably congratulating himself on avoiding catastrophe by choosing another bride, but the lack of issue with Hadley was a result of her husband’s inability to father children. He had been honest with her before she agreed to marry him. A childhood illness left him infertile. He’d had no children with his first wife either.
“What do you want, Merrick?” He’d been a mere mister when he’d courted her, and in her frustration, his name slipped out. “You have less than a minute before I leave.”
He sobered and cleared his throat. “Sally spotted you with Lord Julius and his sisters in a sleigh yesterday. She said all the siblings left the house party. No one saw them all day.”
“How does this concern you or Lady Aberglen?”
“Sally believes seeing you is a sign it is time to mend the rift between us.” He shrugged, trying to appear sheepish. “Shall we? In the spirit of Christmas?”
Law. If agreeing would end the conversation… “It has been eight years,” she said, “but why not revive old grudges that are already forgotten? You are absolved of any wrong doing.” She flicked her fingers as if sprinkling him with holy water. “Now, go revel in your happy marriage with Lady Aberglen.”
Bess attempted to leave, but he blocked her escape. “You are still angry.”
Actually, she wasn’t. If he had come for her the night they planned to elope, her father wouldn’t have caught her outside looking for him. Father wouldn’t have arranged her hasty marriage to Hadley to save her reputation after she burst into tears in public when Merrick announced his betrothal one day after abandoning her. If Hadley in turn hadn’t been kind and encouraging, she wouldn’t have built a dear friendship with her cousin. She never would have been staying at Davensworth Cottage on a stormy night when Julius, her one true love, arrived on the doorstep.
She cocked her head, studying him. Merrick didn’t require punishment for justice to be served. It came in the form of her receiving what she deserved. Her life was better, richer, as a result of his betrayal.
She dropped her arms at her sides. “The truth is I am apathetic towards you.”
“You are lashing out. I understand; you are still hurt. I am sorry for the injury I caused.”
To believe any woman would nurse a wounded heart all this time was ludicrous and a testament to the scoundrel’s arrogance. “I’ll try to bear the pain,” she drawled.
He failed to recognize the sarcasm. “Perhaps it will help to hear that I did not set out to mislead you. I wanted to marry you, Elisabeth. I loved you.”
She sighed and glanced toward the exit. If she walked around him, would he follow her into the corridor? His gaze darted toward the doorway as if he read her mind.
“It was your father’s fault,” he blurted. “He called the day we were leaving for Gretna Green. He threatened to withhold your dowry and ruin me if I insisted on pursuing you.”
This, she could believe. “Are you implying you loved my assets and not me?”
“No! You dishonor me with your feckless accusation.” Once, she’d thought it adorable the way the ball at the end of his nose turned scarlet whenever he was upset. Now, she felt nothing but mild interest in the biology behind his red snout.
“I withdraw my accusation, my lord. May I go?”
“If anything, I loved you too much,” he snipped. “How could I damn you to a life of poverty?”
A snort proceeded her laughter. She covered her mouth, but it was too late.
“I am telling the truth.” Merrick threw his hands in the air for emphasis, as if strength of emotion verified his claim. “What choice did I have? I was third in line to inherit my uncle’s title. If I could predict the future, I would have stood my ground with your father. I set aside my own wants and desires to ensure your happiness.”
“It sounds like I should thank you.”
His bluster died a quick death. He blinked several times as if trying to decipher her sincerity. “Yes, well, you are welcome. One must practice gallantry to be deemed a gentleman.”
“Indeed.” She slanted her head for one last assessing glance. What had she ever found appealing about him? He was a shallow, arrogant, and petty man. She was ashamed to have ever believed Julius was anything like him.
“Very good then.” She skirted around him. “I will be off.”
“Elisabeth, if I may ask a favor.”
She owed him nothing, but curiosity got the better of her.
“Since you are a friend of the family,” he said, “Sally wonders if you would speak with Lord Treyhurst about her sister, Miss Mary Chambers-Wallace. Perhaps you could recommend her to him? Mary is a lady of quality with a sweet disposition. Invite her to tea and you will see for yourself.”
Finally, the motive for his faux apology made sense. Merrick was henpecked. If his sister-in-law was anything like Lady Aberglen, Julius’s brother should run in the opposite direction.
“Lord Treyhurst does not require my advice on marriage,” she said. “Lord and Lady Seabrook will provide all the guidance he needs to choose the perfect bride.”
“Wise.” Merrick tapped a finger against his temple and winked as if they shared a secret. “I will suggest Sally cozy up to the marchioness.”
“You do that.” Bess swept from the room and paused. Now, which direction led to Julius? She gathered her bearings and went left.
As she neared the ballroom, Julius shot into the corridor and came up short. He exhaled; the worry lines between his brows disappeared. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought I’d lost you.”
Heavens. She couldn’t adore him more. Flashing a bright smile meant only for him, she linked their arms. “You found me.”
A gong sounded from the ballroom.
“It is time for supper,” Julius said. “Do you need another moment?”
“Right now, this moment. It’s perfect.” She leaned her head against his shoulder as they strolled toward their place in line for the procession.
A gentleman pulled Julius aside to ask a question. Bess retreated to a few feet away while they discussed horses. She loved how animated Julius became when he spoke about a topic he found stimulating. He noticed she was no longer at his side and motioned for her to join them. She shook her head. “I will wait for you.”
Julius’s mother approached. Her towering height and regal bearing could be intimidating, but a smile softened her face. “You and my son appear to be having a merry Christmas.”
“It is the best Christmas I’ve ever had, my lady.”
“How splendid to hear.” Lady Seabrook flicked her gaze toward her son. “I see Julius has been waylaid. Did he present you with his gift?”
“Yes, and it is lovely.” Bess smiled, hoping she’d not hurt Julius’s feelings. The necklace was a thoughtful gift. “I asked him to keep the cameo safely tucked in his pocket until the festivities end.”
Lady Seabrook nodded in approval. “A sensible young woman. Lord Seabrook will be pleased to know Julius has partnered with a lady such as yourself.”
Bess assumed she was referring to their business venture, because no mother would speak casually about a son’s romantic affairs.
“I am looking forward to a long and prosperous future together,” Bess said.
“Thank heavens. This might be my best Christmas.” Lady Seabrook, whom Bess had been told rarely smiled, laughed. One could describe her as giddy. Too many glasses of mulled wine perhaps?
“If you will excuse me, Lady Hadley, I must allow the Duke of Foxhaven to escort me to supper before our guests grow restless.”
Julius returned to Bess’s side shortly after his mother left. Bess scrunched her nose when he met her gaze.
He chuckled. “What have I done wrong now?”
“You had me afraid of your mother with all your tales.” She linked their arms. “I find her delightful.”
Chapter Twelve
Julius stole another glance at Bess before spearing a Brussels sprout with his fork. She was engaged in pleasant conversation with his uncle seated on her right, and one would never know she’d been in tears less than an hour earlier. The situation was puzzling, and her refusal to confide in Julius came as a blow to his confidence.
Last night they had talked until dawn about everything—her favorite books, trips she’d taken with her husband, the harmless pranks her younger brothers had played on one another. Had Julius missed a clue that could have predicted her reaction to the necklace?
His sisters often claimed he was incapable of noticing subtle nuances, but their accusations were bollocks. He’d mastered the skill of reading others at Oxford when he and his classmates had gambled with homemade sweets and risked losing them on a hand of vingt-et-un.
With his sisters, he chose to ignore signs one or more of them was upset. Otherwise, he was dragged into a conflict that did not involve him. In the end, he always came out the loser when the quarreling sisters teamed up to accuse him of showing favoritism. He tried hard to read Bess, though. He wanted to learn the meaning behind every mannerism and champion her causes whenever she was wronged.
He slanted another look in her direction and was treated to a view of the back of her head. He suppressed a sigh of frustration.
“I’ve never seen Uncle Gunther say more than a few words to anyone,” his sister Mercedes said. “I think he has taken a liking to Lady Hadley.”
Julius’s older sister was seated on his left and hadn’t missed his growing agitation with their uncle monopolizing Bess’s attention. He was under no allusions Ammie had kept his secret, at least not from their eldest sister or her twin. There was a chance the two youngest didn’t know he was heels over arse for Bess, but he wouldn’t gamble on it.
He lowered his voice to minimize others overhearing. “If Gunther wasn’t twice her age and still chasing after Lady Kelynen’s skirts, I would be jealous.”
“Now Julius”—Mercedes performed a perfect imitation of their mother, complete with pinched mouth—“as you are aware, Uncle Gunther and the dowager viscountess enjoy a dear friendship and nothing more.”
