His Mistletoe Marchioness

by Georgie Lee

  A knock on the door made both Anne and Clara turn. Adam entered, as shame-faced as Anne had been when she’d confessed to helping throw Hugh and Clara together. Clara crossed the room, about to confront her brother and berate him for his hand in this mess when Hugh stepped in behind Adam.

  ‘What the devil is he doing here?’ Clara demanded, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from both Adam and Anne for her language. They would hear a great many more curses if that man was allowed to remain in her room much longer. They might even find themselves paying for the replacement of a vase or a few candlesticks.

  ‘Hugh would like to speak with you,’ Adam explained, more apologetic than demanding.

  Clara stared at Hugh with a look to drop a man. He didn’t flinch, but met her gaze, as apologetic as Adam, yet unwilling to shirk or shrink under her hard stare. Oh, but the man was infuriating. Even when he was wrong beyond measure he didn’t have the decency to behave like it. ‘I have nothing to say to him.’

  ‘Then Adam and I will leave you alone.’ Anne rushed to Adam, took him by the arm and pulled him from the room.

  ‘No, wait,’ Clara called, but it was too late. They were gone and the door shut behind them, leaving Clara to face Hugh alone. She would murder them when they were back at Winsome for continuing to be so troubling. She’d do it here, but she didn’t wish their dead bodies to cause any more of a scandal than she was already embroiled in. She fixed on Hugh with an anger to make the fire burn brighter. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘To apologise and to explain myself.’

  ‘You needn’t explain for I’ve already heard enough tonight and so has the rest of the house by now, I’m sure.’ He moved to protest, but she held up a silencing hand. ‘You always have a convenient excuse for all your poor behaviour, don’t you, and you expect me to believe it?’

  ‘I never lied to you Clara, and I’m not lying now when I tell you the child isn’t mine.’

  ‘Stop. Stop with the lies and deceits and the pretences to caring about me.’

  ‘I do care about you. I love you. I always have, ever since those days at Winsome when you used to sit across from me at dinner, unafraid to laugh at my stupid jokes or join in them with me. All those times you never looked down on me because I had a grand title and not one farthing to make it worth anything. Even back then when I was with you I could believe that there was a better future waiting for me, for us. You were beautiful in your simple dresses with nothing but flowers or ribbons to adorn your hair and you’ve only become more stunning since. I was a fool to give you up six years ago, but I was bound by duty to choose another. I thought in coming here that I could have a second chance at life, to put behind me for ever the mistakes I’d made in London and become again the respected man who’d first courted you and who’d held the esteem of many good people. And then I saw you again and I wanted more than your esteem or redemption, I wanted you and your heart. You believed in me when few others did and with you I could be myself. You have not lost me. I will find a way out of this predicament and back to you and we will be together. I promise it.’

  His unexpected pronouncement almost jolted Clara out of her anger. She lowered her hand to her sides, unable to do anything but stare at him in disbelief. He loved her, but that she should hear it now when all possibility of their happiness together was over infuriated her. She raised an accusing finger, not caring that it trembled with her rage and hurt. ‘How dare you speak to me of love. You don’t love me, you never have. I’ve never been anything to you except second best, a spare horse to keep in the running in case the one you’re betting on to save Everburgh and your precious legacy falls and stumbles. I won’t be taken advantage of like that ever again, do you hear me?’

  ‘I do and you have every right to believe that of me, but I swear to you by everything I have, my title and my lands, that it isn’t true. I love you.’

  ‘No, don’t say any more.’ Clara turned away from him, not wanting to hear these words while everything was crumbling, especially the façade he’d built in front of him these last few days to shield the true man beneath.

  ‘If you will believe in me and stand beside me, I will find a way to prove that the child is not mine and we can be together.’

  ‘No, I won’t. I gave you a second chance, Hugh, one I never should have extended and you ruined it. You broke my heart tonight the same way you did six years ago and I’m done with you. Go back to Lady Frances and your child. They need you more than I do.’

  * * *

  Hugh stared at Clara, her cheeks burning not with the humble embarrassment of a compliment, but with the fury of a woman who deserved to be angry. She was right. She had given him a second chance and he’d ruined it, not by what he’d done when they were together, but because of the mistakes he’d made before. It was clear to him that no matter what he did, no matter where he went or who he befriended, he would never shake off the years in London he’d spent frittering away his good name and reputation. With it had gone every hope of he and Clara ever being together. Of all the losses facing him this was the hardest to bear. He could meet every trouble and challenge that life lobbed at him, even the loss of Everburgh if she was by his side to support and help him, but she never would be and he had no one to blame but himself.

  Hugh bowed to Clara, unable to tear his eyes away from her as he prepared to leave. ‘I wish you all the love and happiness that you deserve. I hope you find it with a man who is truly worthy of you.’

  His head held high against the crushing disappointment weighing down his heart, he strode out of the room, closing the door behind him and on every dream he’d ever had about Clara.

  Outside the room, Adam and Anne stood together across the hallway, watching him, the pity on their faces as searing as the hate that had decorated Clara’s. Without a word, he strode down the hall to his room, carrying with him what was left of his dignity. When he reached the stairs he met Sir Nathaniel coming up from below. Melting flakes of snow dusted the shoulders of his blue coat and the top of his dark shoes were wet from the weather. He stopped at the sight of Hugh, his lips drawing down in a disappointment that had become an all-too-familiar sight tonight.

  ‘Bad show of things at Holyfield, Lady Frances making a scene like that,’ Sir Nathaniel mumbled.

  ‘Bad indeed.’ The story was working its way through the guests faster than Hugh had anticipated if Sir Nathaniel had already heard it.

  ‘That was no way to handle things, but of course, a gentleman should know better than to find himself in such a situation.’ Hugh wanted to protest that the child wasn’t his and that he was being trapped, but he wasn’t a gentleman to smear a lady’s reputation, even if the lady deserved a thorough smearing. ‘You will understand if I rescind my recommendation to the solicitors. I can’t have my reputation or theirs entangled in such a sordid story.’

  Hugh almost doubled over as if he’d been struck in the gut, but he forced himself to stand tall and to show this man no ill will for he was only doing what he thought best, like Adam, and heaven knew how many others. ‘I understand and I thank you for your willingness to extend it. I wish I had been worthy of your continued support.’

  With a terse nod, Sir Nathaniel made for his room, leaving Hugh alone in the darkness. If he could ride out for Everburgh tonight he would, but with Lady Frances’s accusation still hanging in the air, he had to remain. If he left, everyone would think he was abandoning his duty before the matter had been settled and it would tarnish him more than her outrageous proclamation already had. He almost wished he had been a gambler—a monetary debt would be easier to deal with and would confer on him a touch more honour than this debt of the flesh.

  With heavy steps, Hugh went to his room, eager to be alone where he could think in peace and concoct some way to get at the truth. There had to be a solution to all of this, there must be, just as there had been one for every trouble that had ever faced Everb
urgh. He only needed to find it and reveal it to everyone to reclaim his innocence, even if it was Clara he wished to prove it to more than society.

  He pushed open the door to his room and stopped cold.

  ‘Elizabeth, what are you doing in here?’ He swung the door shut behind him. He wasn’t ready to see her again. He needed time to collect his thoughts and her being here caught him on the back foot, a position he did not wish to be in for so important a matter.

  ‘We must speak and now is the best time to do it.’

  More than likely she’d crept in here hoping to make a grand exit when they were through and give even more credence to her claims about the child. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a footman or maid she’d paid to have them enter at the right moment and catch them. He would ask her to leave if he didn’t think it would create even more of a scene, but she was right, they did need to speak.

  ‘Whose child is it, Elizabeth?’ Hugh demanded, turning to the offence, hoping to catch her off guard as she must have hoped to catch him.

  ‘How can you say such a thing?’ Elizabeth blanched, having the gall to appear insulted. ‘You know it’s yours.’

  ‘Do I? You weren’t willing to accept me when I asked you before. Suddenly, marriage to me looks very good. It makes me think I’m not so much the father as a convenient gentleman to save you from your mistake.’ He curled his lip in disgust at how fast she’d changed her mind about marrying him when she was carrying some other man’s bastard, but he couldn’t prove it wasn’t his. There wasn’t a midwife in England who could tell him how far gone she really was or call the lady a liar when, during her travails, she named him as the father. Perhaps one of her maids could give evidence that there had been one or two courses or men since the last time Elizabeth and Hugh had been together. It was a stupid idea. He barely possessed the means to pay for solicitors to defend Everburgh, much less to engage the type of man who could slip a lady’s maid a few pounds in exchange for what would be little more than nefarious gossip. He had done a great many things to help himself and the lineage, but he wasn’t ready to stoop to such disgustingly low methods to free himself from this present entanglement.

  ‘You’re just as guilty as I am for what happened between us, don’t think I will take all the blame for it, nor will I be humiliated in society and labelled a harlot for a situation that you helped create.’

  Outside, the wind from the storm banged against the window in sharp whistles and whooshes. Hugh rolled his shoulders, the truth in her words as stinging as the cold night.

  Her hard eyes softened and she twisted the ribbon on her pelisse between her fingers. ‘I realise this is not the most ideal situation for either of us and perhaps I could have handled things a bit differently tonight, but when I saw you with Lady Kingston and I realised that I might be left to face the censure of society alone, and to have my child labelled a bastard, I lost my head.’

  ‘And now you’re all but forcing my hand,and you expect me to be glad of it?’

  ‘You and I got along very well together for a time, we could again and it could be a splendid match for both of us.’ She slid up to him and touched his arm, the rich perfume he’d once revelled in during the dark hours of night in London sickening today. She was a stunning woman, with her light hair and generous breasts, but in the six months since they’d last been together, whatever allure she held for him had faded. Their care for one another had been a shallow one more of convenience than of any deeper emotion and their time apart had killed it.

  ‘A splendid match for you is what you mean. You’ll gain a title much higher than the one you currently hold and your child, whosever it is, will get a legacy and inheritance far above anything that he would enjoy at present.’

  She snatched her hand off his arm, her smile twisting to a grimace. ‘Yes, I would gain a better title, but one beset by nothing but problems. I know about the lawsuit and how if you’re ruled against you’ll lose everything. Do you really think I’d pursue you if the child wasn’t yours simply to take on more troubles than I already have, to see myself sitting so high all the while knowing I have not a farthing to my name no matter how grand it might be? Do you really think that’s something worth scheming for?’

  Hugh peered down at her in disgust, his desire to do what was right and honourable tempered by her nasty words. If he made her a marchioness, she wouldn’t stand by him through all his challenges, but sneer at and ridicule him for his failures while dismissing his successes as nothing more than something he should have already had. Unlike Clara, she would not help him to see that there was hope even in the darkest of times, nor would she be a pillar of strength for him to rely on when the strain of carrying on seemed like too much. She would be the shrew she was now and some day, if he couldn’t give her what she believed was due a marchioness, she would come to hate him as much as Clara did. ‘Such loving and comforting words from a woman so desperate to be my wife.’

  She drew back, opening her mouth to offer some retort before seeming to think better of speaking and closing it again. She flashed him a simpering smile like the one that had first caught his notice in London. It no longer enticed him like it used to.

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so difficult or nasty, but a woman in my situation and condition is apt to not be herself.’ She ran her hand over her stomach, but he could not tell through the thickness of her skirt whether there really was a child beneath it. Then she took hold of his arm again, leaning in to him and looking up at him with false tenderness. ‘I’m sure that once this little issue with Everburgh is over, you will find a way to regain everything you need to be a proper marquess. You are so clever in that regard.’

  Her false flattery didn’t move him. ‘I’m not certain that the lawsuit will be decided in my favour. Thanks to your outburst last night, I lost the support of a man who could help me. Who knows how many others will follow his lead?’

  ‘Then we will do all we can as man and wife to regain their good opinion both here and in London. I know a number of men who can lend us the money we need to fight the lawsuit and who could help us entertain many influential men who can help us.’

  ‘We aren’t even married and already you want me to go into debt?’

  ‘I want you to succeed.’ She squeezed his arm to try to drive home the point and Hugh jerked it away from her.

  ‘I need time to consider the matter.’

  ‘There’s nothing to consider. You can’t leave me in this condition to face everyone’s scrutiny alone, nor will I have you abandon me for that woman you were with tonight.’

  ‘She, like many of the other allies I had in the lawsuit, is gone.’

  ‘Good. I’m glad I could show her what kind of man you really are before she found herself in the same unenviable position as me.’

  Hugh marvelled at the woman standing in front of him, the one he’d never seen before who was both vindictive and nasty, but in some ways she was right. She was naming him as the father of her child and he was hesitating in his duty to do right by her, leaving her to wonder what the future held for her and the baby. It, and her condition, could allow Hugh to excuse some of what she’d said, but her hard words, more than his doubts about the child, still made him hesitate in asking her to marry him. She’d shown him what a future with her would be like and it made him recoil. This wasn’t what he’d imagined for himself when he’d left drinking and London behind and yet it had followed him, like every other mistake he’d made in town.

  Hugh raked his fingers through his hair, unable to believe he was faced again with the decision of whether or not to marry a woman he did not love. For all the time he and Elizabeth had spent together, the word had never passed between them because both of them had recognised that it hadn’t existed. It had been there with Clara. He hadn’t intended to tell her tonight with her shooting daggers at him, but he hadn’t been able to hold back. He’d wanted Clara
to hear the truth even if she didn’t believe it, to comfort her with the peace of knowing that he had genuinely cared for her even if his sins had risen up to consume him. It was a peace he hadn’t been able to offer her last time and one she’d rejected tonight and all because of a lying woman.

  Now he must do his duty as a gentleman and do what was both right and expected of him. Perhaps, as with Hermione, he and Elizabeth would come to really care for each other. She might mature into a woman who could stand beside him, if not out of concern for him, but out of necessity for herself, for she’d already proven she was willing to work hard in that regard. When his troubles became hers perhaps she would find the strength of will to support him as he needed and to leave this waspish woman before him behind. It was the best he could hope for.

  He took Elizabeth’s hand and raised it to his chest. She didn’t clutch him as Clara had or eye him with the same anticipation and hope. Instead, there was a covetousness in her eyes that made him want to wince and let go, but he held on even while the words were rising up in his throat to choke him. He wanted the love he’d experienced with Clara, the one he’d seen between his parents, the sure thing that would support and carry him through these trying times, not the promise of what might be with another woman, a promise that he doubted would ever be realised. Once again, the desires of his heart no longer mattered. The only thing that mattered was what was best for Everburgh and the Delamare line although he was not certain the child was his. In offering for her, he was taking the chance that another man’s child would become the heir to Everburgh and that that man’s blood and not Hugh’s would benefit from every sacrifice and accomplishment he and his parents had ever made. He was glad his mother was not here to see it, for it did make him as bad as his grandfather.