The Christmas Heiress

by Adrienne Basso

  "Happy now?"

  "Ecstatic."

  They stared each other down for a long moment, each stubborn in their conviction that they were right.

  Finally, Lord Reginald broke. "For pity's sake, it's Christmas Eve, Charlotte. Can't a man have a little fun?"

  "If you only smoked on Christmas Eve I would not complain. But we both know you indulge yourself whenever the mood strikes, regardless of the fact that you promised me last Christmas you would quit."

  Lord Reginald lowered his gaze. "I tried. 'Tis not easy."

  Charlotte eyed her grandfather uncertainly. "I understand, but you really must make more of an effort."

  "Temptations abound, especially in this house. Worthington provides the finest cigarillos for his guests. Imports them from Cuba."

  "So do you."

  "Yes, but here I can get my hands on a cigar whenever I want one. Back home they are always mysteriously disappearing," Lord Reginald said, sending a sidelong glance at Charlotte. "Though it is hardly difficult to deduce who has been taking them."

  "I care about your health," Charlotte admitted. "And I do understand that sometimes the flesh is weak, even for those with a strong will. So I hide your cigars, hoping it will be easier for you to resist temptation if you are not confronting a full cigar box each day."

  Lord Reginald let out a grunt. "What can a girl of your tender years know about temptations and weakness of the flesh?"

  "You'd be surprised," Charlotte muttered, then blushed, knowing she would be mortified if her grandfather ever learned how weak her flesh had indeed been. With the earl.

  Fortunately, Lord Reginald was too busy lamenting the loss of his cigar to take notice of her remark. He cast one final, sad frown at the pavement below, then closed the window. "Though I firmly believe you enjoyed it immensely, I somehow do not think you barged in here solely to lecture me about my smoking."

  Belatedly, Charlotte realized it was imprudent of her to have made such a fuss over the cigar when she had such a big favor to ask of him, especially considering that her plan to follow Jonathan and Miss Montgomery had no chance of success without her grandfather's assistance. Quickly, she explained what had occurred, concluding her tale with a heartfelt plea for Lord Reginald's help.

  The older man whistled with surprise when she was finished. "Poor Jonathan. He must be besotted indeed to act with such little sense. Running off with his mother's paid companion? Why, 'tis nearly as bad as taking off with the family governess. Darn decent of Worthington to follow after his brother, though, to try and set things to rights. But this is a family matter. I don't know why you should be involved."

  "I feel responsible, since I was the one who secretly conveyed their messages. I must now do what I can to rectify the situation."

  Lord Reginald walked closer to the fireplace, mumbling and shaking his head. But Charlotte concluded her determination must have shown on her face, for he did not dismiss her outright.

  "It will be a very unpleasant shock for the countess," Lord Reginald mused. "And I suppose if I refuse to help, I'll have to live with your sulking behavior for the next three months. Or longer."

  Charlotte sniffed. "Grandpapa, I do not sulk."

  "Not often, since you always seem to get your own way," he replied almost cheerfully. "But when you are crossed, you are like a bear with a thorn in its paw."

  "Then you will help? If only to avoid my appalling behavior?"

  He narrowed his gaze and dropped into a chair. Charlotte hesitated, wondering how much she should confide in him. She did feel a great responsibility for this mess, and was compelled to do what she could to fix it, but her need to help Edward came from a place deep in her heart, not her conscience.

  "Oh, Grandpapa. The earl cannot do this alone, and I am unable to assist him unless you aid me."

  The frown on Lord Reginald's face broke. "I might be able to distract the countess for a few hours, but, Charlotte, you know we will never be able to keep this from the servants. Nothing escapes their notice. They have a network of information that would do the Home Office proud."

  Charlotte's pulse leapt. He was going to help her! Thank goodness! "Thus far, none of the servants are aware that anything is amiss. My maid thinks that I have gone out for an early-morning ride. I want you to tell her that I have succumbed to a nasty cough and have taken to my bed.

  "Then inform my maid and the countess that at your request, Miss Montgomery is kindly sitting with me. Jones is terrified of catching any sort of i11- ness. She will not enter my bedchamber until she is told that I am recovered enough to no longer be contagious."

  Lord Reginald stood and strolled to the corner of the room. He splashed his face with water from the basin on his nightstand, then slowly dried himself with a soft towel. "The countess will not appreciate me spiriting Miss Montgomery away the day of her big party, when her companion is needed most."

  Charlotte nodded. "I agree she will be upset, but above all, the countess is a hostess and will go to extreme lengths to accommodate her guests. Especially those she likes. Charm her, Grandpapa. She will not be happy about it, but she will allow it. I am certain if you ask Lady Haddon, she will step in and appease the countess and perform some of the tasks required of Miss Montgomery."

  "But what shall I say if Lady Haddon volunteers to take Miss Montgomery's place at your sickbed?"

  Charlotte's eyes widened with dismay. It was just the sort of generous offer Lady Haddon would make. How wise of Lord Reginald to realize it. "If Lady Haddon tries to interfere, tell her I am very much afraid she will pass along my illness to her children. That should keep her out of the sick room."

  "And the earl and his brother? How is their disappearance to be explained?"

  "The earl will pen a note to his mother saying he and his brother have important business to attend to off the estate. That will also account for the missing carriages."

  Lord Reginald appeared impressed. "It seems you have thought of everything."

  Charlotte grimaced. "Far from it. It's a house of cards, Grandpapa, and I shudder to think how many different things can go wrong. That is why I need you to keep the pretense going as long as possible."

  "When will you return?"

  "By afternoon, I hope." Charlotte glanced at the window. Sunlight crept through the curtains and brightened the whole room. It was past time they set out on their mission.

  "I am not keen at the thought of you and Worthington alone together in a lumbering carriage for hours."

  Charlotte's heart thudded. She had not thought about the time she would spend alone in Edward's company. "The earl is a gentleman. You have nothing to fear."

  "The earl is a man and it has not escaped my notice that he finds you very attractive." Lord Reginald cocked his head to one side and looked at her thoughtfully. With effort, Charlotte managed not to squirm.

  "There will hardly be time for improprieties, Grandpapa, as we race through the countryside in pursuit of Jonathan and Miss Montgomery."

  A faint smile touched Lord Reginald's mouth. "But what of your reputation, Charlotte?"

  "My reputation is in your hands, Grandpapa. I know you will faithfully protect it, along with Miss Montgomery's. No one must know what has occurred, especially the countess. The only chance we have of putting this mess to rights depends on complete secrecy."

  "I understand." Lord Reginald patted her on the arm. "Try not to despair, my dear. The task ahead of you is daunting, but you must have faith that all will come right in the end. After all, Christmas is the time for miracles."

  CHAPTER 19

  Twenty minutes later, Charlotte found herself, as planned, standing amid the tall oak trees at the end of the long front drive of the manor house, stamping her feet in the packed snow to ward off the chill. But she was not alone. Unfortunately, she had picked up an unexpected escort when she slipped out the side entrance of the manor house.

  One of the household's dogs, a big shaggy retriever with long ears and a panting tongue t
hat hung out the side of his mouth, had followed her down the drive, his tail wagging. She had made the fatal mistake of petting him and rubbing behind his ears, and though she had repeatedly tried to shoo him back to the house or the stables, he showed no inclination of leaving her side.

  "Foolish animal," she muttered under her breath. "No doubt you are a male dog."

  At the sound of her voice, the large dog thumped his tail with enthusiasm and leaned against her, sitting so close he was practically on her foot. Unable to resist his blatant devotion, and soulful brown eyes, Charlotte stroked his silky head. It had a peculiar, calming effect on her nerves.

  The faint sound of carriage wheels made her stiffen and listen hard. Hackles rising, the dog stood and growled. Charlotte stayed hidden among the clump of trees until she heard the earl's familiar voice call out, "Are you there, Charlotte?"

  "Yes, but we have a slight problem." Her furry companion bounded toward the coach, barking with excitement.

  "Bloody hell, why did you bring one of the dogs with you?"

  "He brought himself," Charlotte protested. "And I cannot get him to leave."

  "Home, Ranger," the earl commanded. "Home."

  The retriever obediently ran a few steps toward the manor house, then stopped and turned, as if waiting for his human companions to join him. She heard the earl swear again beneath his breath. "Home," he repeated, in a deep, commanding tone.

  With a loud whine, the dog gazed wistfully toward Charlotte. Then dipping his head low, he turned and started trotting slowly down the drive, toward the house, as commanded.

  Emerging from the trees, Charlotte quickly set her right foot on the edge of the carriage wheel and hoisted herself inside. The earl caught her before she pitched herself into his lap, but she waved off his assistance. "Hurry and drive away before your dog decides to turn around and follow us."

  The carriage lunged forward. Charlotte shrieked, but held on to her balance, if not her dignity. Once she had righted herself and placed the warm fur lap blanket around her legs, she glanced around.

  It was hardly the most elegant coach Charlotte had ever seen. Small, sleek and built for two, the half-open vehicle was painted a glossy black with high yellow wheels, that had an old-fashioned look to them. But the seats were well-padded and upholstered in soft leather and the carriage was drawn by an exquisite set of matched grays who were spirited and primed for the journey.

  Obviously the earl had chosen the vehicle for its speed, but also because he could drive it himself, thus keeping their outing a secret from the staff. They took a sharp turn, yet stayed in the center of the road and Charlotte was relieved to note Edward's expert handling of the ribbons.

  "I assume that since you are here Lord Reginald has agreed to help us," Edward said, meeting her gaze briefly. "I suspect it was not too difficult for you to convince him."

  Charlotte bit her bottom lip, unsure how to interpret that remark. Was the earl implying her powers of persuasion were excellent or did he believe her grandfather was easily susceptible to her wishes? Charlotte decided she would give the earl the benefit of the doubt and believe the former.

  "Though he was not completely in favor of me accompanying you, he eventually agreed it was the correct decision," she replied. "Grandpapa admires your dedication to your family, Edward, and was pleased to help in any way possible."

  The earl's handsome face looked pensive. "It was good of him, though I admit to feeling more of a twinge of guilt, knowing he will have the harder task, trying to deal with my mother all day."

  ,,it will not be easy, but Grandpapa will do his best."

  The earl gave her a lopsided smile and Charlotte was struck with a wave of melancholy, very aware that this journey to find Jonathan and Miss Montgomery was a big gamble that might all be for naught.

  "Are you hungry?" Edward's question cut through her gloomy thoughts.

  "A little, but there is hardly time to stop for a meal," Charlotte replied, wishing her stomach would not grumble so loudly.

  Edward's widening smile let her know he had heard her hunger pangs. "There is a hamper on the floor, wedged on the other side of my boot. Can you reach it?"

  "I believe so." Charlotte bent over his lap and grabbed on to the wicker handle. The close bodily contact, even through their layers of clothing, felt unbearably sensuous. Like a fine wine, it was a heady pleasure to be so near Edward.

  "Do you need any help?"

  At the sound of his voice, a sudden thrill shot through her stomach and Charlotte nearly dropped the basket. "I think I've got it," she mumbled. Tugging hard, she managed to pull it up and place it on the seat between them. "Where did you get it?"

  "From Cook."

  Charlotte's head snapped around. "What?"

  The earl shrugged. "When she noticed there were no dirty breakfast dishes, she insisted on packing the hamper."

  "Does she know where we are going?" Charlotte asked in alarm.

  "Of course not." Edward shrugged. "She believes

  I have gone out with Jonathan on an important errand, remember?"

  Relieved their secret was still safe, Charlotte removed her gloves and rummaged through the basket, extracting a muffin that was still warm. Deciding it would be too messy, and too much of a bother, she did not reach for the butter or jam in the small crockery pots and bit into the tasty morsel. After finishing her second muffin, she realized she was being terribly rude, stuffing herself so gluttonously without even offering any food to the earl.

  "Shall I take the ribbons while you eat?" she suggested.

  His brow raised. "Have you ever driven a carriage?"

  "I had a pony cart when I was a little girl," Charlotte replied. "I'm sure once we hit a long stretch of straight road, I can manage the team."

  The earl shook his head. "These are not the pair to learn upon. They are far too high-spirited. I am hungry, but I can wait until we stop to water the horses." He stretched his legs forward as far as the coach would allow. "Unless you would like to feed me?"

  Charlotte nearly choked on the piece of apple she was contentedly chewing. Feed him! The suggestion brought to mind all sorts of inappropriate sensual images. My gracious, what sort of sexual deviant had she become when the most innocent of remarks set her body humming with awareness?

  Resolutely shutting out the pictures, Charlotte broke a fresh muffin in half. "Butter or jam?" she asked tersely.

  `Jam, please."

  Holding the broken muffin over the basket with one hand, she reached inside with the other, scooped some jam onto a knife, then spread it onto the larger muffin piece. She waited for him to transfer the reins to his left hand, so he could hold the food in his right, but the sly smile she could clearly see on Edward's face let her know she would be waiting a long time indeed.

  Calmly, or at least as calmly as she could manage, Charlotte raised her hand to his mouth. Edward leaned his head forward and slowly accepted her offering. His lips closed over her fingertips, deliberately she was certain, and every nerve in her body was set afire.

  Forcing herself to ignore the sensations, Charlotte pulled her hand away, slathered the second half of the muffin with jam and waited for the earl to swallow. The moment he had, she unceremoniously shoved the rest of the muffin into his mouth.

  For an instant she feared he might gag on it, but somehow the earl managed to chew and swallow the muffin without coughing. She watched him closely, to ensure he was all right, holding the bottle of unopened wine in one hand, in case he needed something to clear his throat.

  "Drink?" she asked, raising the bottle.

  The earl shook his head roughly, declining the offer. Charlotte continued to watch him. His cheek was clean-shaven. She wondered idly if his valet had been summoned and used the razor or if Edward had done it himself. For all his regal aristocracy, the earl was not an arrogant, or spoiled man. He could and did fend for himself and she admired his self-reliance.

  Charlotte's gaze shifted to the corner of his mouth where a str
ay drop of strawberry jam glis teased. Resisting the most absurd urge to lean over and lick away the drop, Charlotte pulled a napkin from the basket and vigorously rubbed the earl's face.

  He winced slightly and pulled away. "No need to rub my face raw," he exclaimed. "There must be gentler ways to clean it."

  "Then we truly would end up in a ditch," Charlotte remarked dryly. She sighed and looked away.

  The earl cleared his throat and muttered under his breath. "That was not what I meant, but it is a delightful image. I'm flattered, Charlotte."

  She felt heat flood into her face. Needing to change the subject, she started asking questions about their route and Edward's opinion on where his brother might have stopped to be married.

  "Do you think they are heading for Scotland?" Charlotte inquired, having always heard that Gretna Green was the place were most eloping couples traveled.

  "It's possible, but Jonathan seems to have planned this for some time. I think he might have bought a special license so as to avoid being married over the anvil." A muscle ticked along the earl's square jaw. "Though it will make but a small difference. A scandal is a scandal. The marriage will still be viewed as an unfortunate mistake, a grave error in judgement by nearly everyone, including my mother."

  Charlotte winced. "This is how people in love act, Edward. With passion, with boldness-"

  "With idiocy," he muttered.

  'Jonathan is a very determined man and he has realized that he cannot live happily without Miss Montgomery."

  Edward rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Could he not have fallen in love with a suitable young woman?"

  "Now who is acting like an idiot?" Charlotte exclaimed. Her words cut sharply through the air. "We do not choose whom we love."

  "I cede the point, but is it so unreasonable to have expected my brother to have approached his marriage in a more practical, sensible manner?"

  Charlotte's defiance melted away. "Being in love can cloud your judgement."

  "Or fog it completely." Edward shifted the ribbons and slowed the horses as they approached a sharp curve. "It has taken my mother six years to reach an uneasy truce with me and now Jonathan has eloped with her companion. Will my family never be at peace? Must we always be at odds with each other?"