The Widow's Christmas Surprise

by Jenna Jaxon

  Please meet me in the blue receiving room in half an hour.

  Hugh Granger

  Relief poured through her like melted snow, cooling her heightened senses. She slumped back onto the bed and pulled the covers around her, a smile stealing over her face. At last she might be able to explain to Mr. Granger both what had happened this morning and what her feelings were toward him. That both explanations were somewhat entwined might make the telling difficult, but she would make him see that she had to act as she had this morning because of her affection for him.

  The mantel clock chimed four. Good heavens, he’d only given her half an hour to meet him. That was barely enough time to dress. “Hatley!”

  Her maid reappeared and assisted with a hasty toilette. Inwardly, Maria bemoaned for the first time that she could not wear anything brighter than the lavender afternoon gown with gold medallions scattered over it she had now donned. Blue had always been her best color, but this would have to do for propriety’s sake. Admittedly, it was her most becoming ensemble, with matching silk slippers and gold locket.

  Taking a moment to calm herself, Maria sent up a prayer that everything would come right with this meeting. If Mr. Granger accepted her explanation and her declaration, then they could hopefully move forward to an understanding that would be divulged to the world as soon as her mourning period had ended. Jane would be sorely disappointed that her cousin hadn’t made a better match, but Maria had decided she would not think about anyone’s wishes but her own. Jane could make decisions for her own life, not for Maria’s, especially since they apparently had very different ideas about love and marriage. In the end, Jane would wish her happy, and that was all that mattered.

  Hurrying down the main staircase, Maria automatically scanned the area at the bottom for sight of Lord Wetherby. She fervently hoped that gentleman was firmly ensconced in his bed with a handkerchief tied over his wounded face. At any rate, he did not seem to be haunting this part of the house, so she continued down the corridor toward the front of the house. The blue receiving room was located immediately to the right of the entryway and used only for visitors. As no one was expected until Wednesday, the room would be perfect for their need for privacy in this interview.

  The door was ajar. Maria put a tentative hand on the latch and pushed it lightly, then stuck her head around the dark paneled door. A fire burned brightly, casting a glow in the room where daylight was fading. Mr. Granger leaned against the mantelpiece, staring intently into the fire, every line of his lean figure a study in elegance. He’d changed into a dark gray jacket, cut excellently to accentuate his broad chest and narrow waist. At the creak of the door, he turned, his waistcoat, blue and gray striped, catching the light, brightening his blue eyes almost to azure. He straightened, his gaze riveted to her face.

  Maria’s heart thumped loudly and her hands grew damp. She continued into the room, then closed the door all but about two inches. That should serve for propriety’s sake. With measured steps more sedate than usual, she headed toward him, thrilled to meet him alone for the first time in a week.

  “Thank you for seeing me, my lady.” His voice sounded so pleasantly on the ear. Who would not wish to listen to him speak at every opportunity?

  “I am very pleased to do so, Mr. Granger.” How to begin her confession? Unsure now that she was before him, she shifted from one foot to the other.

  “Won’t you be seated, my lady?” He motioned to the small blue jacquard sofa in the center of the room.

  “Of course.” Self-conscious of his scrutiny, she shuffled to the couch, unable to pick up her feet properly. This would never do. She lowered herself onto the cushion at one end, and put her hands in her lap.

  “I trust you have recovered from your ordeal this morning?” He seated himself on the opposite end of the sofa.

  An even tone, no touch of derision or smugness. That made her way easier. “Yes, I have, thank you. And I wanted to explain to you what actually happened, Mr. Granger. There were some things that were . . . left out of my story when we were in the woods.”

  “I suspected as much at the time, my lady.” His gaze slipped to his hands, fisted in his lap. “I assume you wish to tell me now that there was no bird involved.”

  “No, no bird of any kind.” A stupid story, but it had served in the spur of the moment. “I did prick my finger on a holly leaf. That much is true. Lord Wetherby gave me his handkerchief and helped wipe the blood from it.” The memory of his lips on her hand made her shudder.

  A moment later his hand grasped hers. “What did he do, Maria?”

  The use of her Christian name startled her, for she’d not given him permission to use it. Not that she objected at all. But was he trying to take advantage of her, or put her at ease? She’d not be easy about the situation until he knew everything. The tale must be finished, despite the consequences. “He kissed my finger, my palm, then my mouth.”

  His grip on her hand tightened and his mouth grew taut. “And you allowed this advance?”

  “Of course I didn’t allow it.” Appalled, she snatched her hand away. Did he truly think she had welcomed such liberties from Lord Wetherby? The numbskull. “I told him to stop, but in case you haven’t seen his lordship recently, he’s a big, strong man. I tried to push him away several times, but I might as well have been pushing away that wall for all the good it did me.”

  “I beg your pardon, my lady.” Mr. Granger’s face had gone from pale white to red. “I do not mean to infer that you would do such a thing, unless you had some affection for Lord Wetherby, then I would assume—”

  “Why would you even think that?” What did Mr. Granger think of her, after all? “If you remember, last week I was kissing you in your office.” She drew herself up, and peered at him. “Do you believe me to be a woman who goes around kissing men indiscriminately?”

  “Good lord, no.” He scrubbed his hand down his face, drawing a deep breath. “I sincerely apologize, my lady. I just needed to make sure that Lord Wetherby wasn’t under the impression that you reciprocated his interest.”

  Somewhat placated, Maria settled back on the sofa. “No, there was no chance he would have thought that.”

  Mr. Granger nodded gravely, then cocked his head. “So how did you manage to escape him? Not a bird to the rescue, I believe.”

  Shaking her head, Maria grinned at him. “No, I simply used his body against him.”

  “I beg your pardon?” A frown instantly formed on Mr. Granger’s face.

  “He had me bent over his arm so far that the only thing keeping us upright were my feet on the ground. So I lifted them up and down we went.” One of the few times in her life that her wits had served her so well, Maria was rather proud of her solution to the situation.

  “Bravo, my lady.” His frown turned into a grin to rival her own. “Very neatly done.”

  “Thank you.” Now she wished he would take her hand again.

  “So why didn’t you tell us this at the time?”

  With a sigh, she squeezed her hands together, put her feet firmly on the floor, and launched into the explanation he should have figured out for himself by now. “Had I told you this, in front of the others and Lord Wetherby, I was very much afraid you would have done something rash, such as pummel his lordship senseless.” She laid her hand on his and squeezed it. “I know you are dancing close enough to scandal as it is. You need to keep your position here until the situation with your brother is resolved, one way or the other. Beating Lord Wetherby to death would surely get you the sack and worse.”

  Mr. Granger chuckled and lay his hand over hers. “Thank you for that kindness. In the heat of that moment, I might very well have done something rash.”

  “Also, to have had such an encounter spoken of might have served as compromising enough that I could be forced to marry Lord Wetherby, although I suspect he would have denied the whole thing. Still, my reputation, which is not as sterling as it could be, given the circumstances of my late husband’s death
, could have suffered another blow from which it might not have recovered. Which in turn means my daughter might not be received nor be able to make a good marriage when the time comes.” Maria shrugged. “So I opted to tell a little white lie which would serve to scotch any scandal and smooth things over within the family.”

  “I am overjoyed that you have such a good head on your shoulders.” Gazing into her eyes, he took her hands in his. “I am terribly sorry if I have hurt you in any way over this incident. That was never my intention.”

  The warmth from his hands rivaled the heat from the blazing fire. “I never thought it was.”

  “I just keep thinking about . . .”

  “I can’t stop thinking about . . .”

  They spoke at the same time and stopped, laughing together.

  “What were you saying?” Eyes bright in the flickering light, Mr. Granger seemed to be holding his breath.

  Suddenly shy, Maria glanced away from his hot gaze. “I have not stopped thinking about the kiss last week.”

  “I have not forgotten it either. Unfortunately, at the time, I was not able to make known to you my hopes for a closer acquaintance with you.” His voice had lowered to a sultry baritone, sending a sharp wave of desire through her. “I have no right to do so, as you well know my situation with regard to my brother. There is the very real possibility that, in the very near future, I will have no home save the steward’s house here. Therefore, I cannot offer for your hand as I would very much like to do.”

  Blowing out the breath she had been holding, Maria gripped his hands, her thoughts racing. Everything he had said was true. His circumstances were as precarious as hers in some respects, as Jane would certainly point out quickly. And still, the thrill of hearing the words, that he wanted to make her an offer of marriage, could not be denied.

  “Mr. Granger, I am aware of both your circumstances and of the great honor you have alluded to, in even considering asking for my hand.” She glanced down at their intertwined hands, his much larger and stronger than hers. A strong man with whom she could make a life, who could protect and love her and her daughter. “However, I am not quite certain you are aware of my feelings toward you.” She raised her head to find his eyes trained on her, his mouth a straight, thin line.

  Abruptly her hands were empty, and Mr. Granger had risen and strode across the room. “I see, my lady.”

  She rose and stalked after him. “Apparently, you do not, Hugh.”

  He whirled toward her. “Why did you call me that?”

  “You called me by my first name earlier, to startle me into telling you what you wanted to know. I did it to get your attention.”

  Hands tucked quickly behind his back, he looked even taller and more imposing. As he so rightly knew he would. “You have it, Lady Kersey.”

  “Tsk, tsk. Will you call me Lady Kersey when we are married?”

  He blinked. “When we are married?”

  “Because I should actually be called Lady Maria Granger.” She had worked that out days ago, when thinking about that first kiss. “You were trying to propose to me just now, were you not?” Stepping toward him, Maria stopped when she stood toe-to-toe with him.

  “I was telling you I couldn’t propose to you, my lady.” For once Hugh looked uncertain.

  “What you said was that you wanted to ask for my hand in marriage, but you thought your circumstances prevented it.” Taking his hand, Maria laced their fingers together. “I don’t agree, although I understand your reservations.”

  “If you do, then you must see that to marry now would be impossible.” Yet he raised her hand to press a kiss upon the back, with lips that were warmer than the summer sun.

  “Imprudent, perhaps. Especially as I am still in mourning.” Although if she put her mind to it, they might be able to marry before the year was up. She would have to ask Jane if that was the law or merely a custom. “Even so, we could, discreetly, contract a betrothal.”

  “My lady—”

  “Maria, if you please.” She gazed up at him, reveling at the joy that now shone in his eyes. “You did begin it, and I rather prefer that mode of address, Mr. Granger.”

  “Hugh, please, Maria.” He cupped her face in his hand, running his thumb down her cheek, his touch silky, like a butterfly’s wing. “I am honored and grateful and humbled that you would agree to make me the happiest man in the world, but we cannot forget the storm that is brewing. Every day my brother’s hold on life must grow weaker. That he has lived thus long is nothing short of a miracle. But one that will not last. When he dies, my family name may be embroiled in a scandal to which I would not want you linked.”

  “Does it matter that I would not care? Let me be at your side, as a wife should be, for better or for worse.” She’d given her pledge to do that twice before. With William there had not been time for either. And in her marriage to Alan, the worst had been a burden she had to bear alone. She’d never had the chance to stand together with the man she loved and face down whatever adversity Fate had deigned to throw at them. “Ask me so that I may be able to say yes.”

  “My dearest one, if I have any conscience at all, I cannot do so.”

  “What?” Tears pricked Maria’s eyes.

  “At least I cannot ask you now.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. “I am sorry, but I will not ensnare you into circumstances from which you will not easily be able to extricate yourself should you wish to.”

  “But I will not wish to.” His jacket muffled her voice, but her position allowed her to revel in his closeness. Despite the ache in her heart.

  “Even if you believe that, it will do us no harm to wait to announce our intentions. As you say, your mourning period will not be over for some months. By that time my brother’s situation will likely be resolved one way or the other.” He kissed the top of her head. “And we shall know then what we face.”

  Maria sighed. She would much rather have this all settled now, but she was coming to realize that Hugh had a stubborn streak. Not the worst trait for a man to have, but one she would need to get used to. “Compromise” would likely be a watchword for their marriage. And it now seemed more likely that their marriage would take place, she could relax and get to know Hugh better. “I think we should seal this with a kiss.”

  “You do, my lady?” Smiling, he stepped back from her.

  “Isn’t that customary?” She knew very well it was not, but if she couldn’t be formally betrothed, she could at least have a little fun until they could be married.

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Then let it be our custom.” She reached up on tiptoe to slide her arms around his neck.

  “I have no objection to that, my dear.” He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers.

  No danger of this kiss being a fleeting touch. Without doubt Hugh Granger had definitely taken the helm, controlling what she suspected would be a thorough exploration of her mouth. He tilted their heads slightly so their lips molded together, making everything suddenly so much easier. His gentle pressure encouraged her to press back, hoping he would ask for more still. One thing Maria had to admit, she had enjoyed kissing Alan. He’d also taught her quite a lot. If she missed anything about him, it was his kisses. Now here was a man who also knew what he was about when kissing a woman. She just hoped he intended to show her.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Hugh slid his hands up to cup her head, cradling it in them, angling her mouth as his tongue sought entry to her. Oh, so willingly, she opened her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His slow exploration set her pulse, already racing, to a speed so high she felt light-headed. Still, she’d rather swoon in his arms than have him stop.

  The sudden creaking of the door froze them, neither breathing, but listening. Maria hoped against hope that the door had simply caught a draft and blew inward on its own.

  The subtle clearing of a throat told her that no, not a draft but a footman had discovered her and Hugh in a very compromising pos
ition.

  Hugh carefully withdrew, set her neatly on her feet, and they turned to meet the stricken face of Saunders and a tall, imposing gentleman whose hat and coat had not yet been taken. The gentleman’s scowl was as dark as the night, his whole countenance glowering at them.

  “Lord Kinellan is here to see Lady John, my lady,” Saunders announced, then scurried from the room, leaving the three of them in the deathly silence.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Lady Kersey.” Lord Kinellan bowed and glared at Hugh. “You are the grieving widow Lady John has been chaperoning, I believe. I see now why she wrote to me that she must remain as your companion for an unknown period of time.”

  Her cheeks aflame, Maria had to ignore her own discomfort in order to keep a check on Hugh. That belligerent look from this morning’s disaster was back on his face. She placed a restraining hand on his. “One moment, Mr. Granger. Allow me to introduce you before you begin to cudgel one another.”

  Forcing a smile, she stared into Lord Kinellan’s cold eyes. “My lord, may I present Mr. Hugh Granger, the steward for the Kersey properties and . . .” She risked a glance at Hugh, who shook his head slightly. Drat the man. If she could announce a betrothal it might lessen the censure she was certain would follow shortly. “And my very dear friend. Mr. Granger, this is Lord Kinellan—”

  “Gareth, eighth Marquess of Kinellan.” The supercilious lord was certainly full of himself.

  “And my cousin Jane’s particular friend.” Maria glared at him and continued. “She has had to put off her visit to his lordship’s estate in Scotland ever since the spring, as she was helping me with my copious troubles.”