The Christmas Countess

by Adrienne Basso

  He did not say anything at first. She had always suspected that her brother suffered pangs of guilt because he had not been here to support her during this tumultuous time in her life. They had been close as children, but the passing of time and the physical distance between them had taken its toll on their relationship.

  Beyond a surface knowledge of his business and financial success, Rebecca realized she knew very little about the man her brother had become, knew almost nothing of his attitudes and opinions. As adults they were in essence strangers. Did he believe her parents had acted in her best interests? In the best interest of the child?

  Would he refuse her request for help or even worse, order her to drop the matter entirely? The silence went on for so long that Rebecca began to fear hearing his answer.

  “We have never spoken of your child, Rebecca.” Daniel‘s voice was rough with contained emotion. “Father wrote to me, first to tell me about the child and later to say it had not survived. Both letters contained very little details. Will you tell me what happened?”

  The request startled Rebecca, bringing forth a rush of emotions. The memories of her past were difficult to endure, wracked with pain, regret and sorrow. Yet if she wanted Daniel‘s help, he deserved to hear the truth.

  Fearing her legs would not hold her, she moved back, seating herself in her father‘s desk chair. Daniel remained on his feet.

  “We were very much in love, Philip and I. He was a wonderful man. Kind, intelligent, ambitious. Handsome. How I wish you could have known him. You would have liked him, Daniel, I am certain of it.”

  Her brother smiled, but made no comment. Rebecca continued.

  “I was over the moon when Philip asked me to be his wife and beyond delighted when Father gave us his blessing. Philip was just beginning his career as a barrister and his future success seemed assured. We became engaged and then rather reluctantly agreed with Father‘s strong opinion that it would be best to wait until Philip became more established, more financially secure before he took on the burden of a wife.

  “It was difficult waiting to be married. As much for me as for Philip, I believe. We missed each other dreadfully when we were apart and schemed constantly to have time alone together. We were clever, Philip and I, and succeeded more often than not. Yet beyond the love we shared, there was deep longing and passion between us and then one night, when we so boldly managed to be alone, things got…carried away.”

  “Did he pressure you? Force you?”

  Rebecca flinched. “Oh, no. It was nothing like that at all. We were mad for each other, equal in our delight of the…the physical expression of our love and commitment. I thought it was wondrous and blissful and beautiful.”

  Her cheeks heated with embarrassment, but Rebecca did not regret her words. She wanted her brother to know the depth of love and devotion she and Philip had felt for each other.

  “Unfortunately your bliss had consequences,” Daniel interjected.

  “Yes.” Rebecca‘s throat tightened as she remembered her disbelief when she realized she had fallen pregnant. Remembered too, the embarrassment she felt standing before her parents, feeling like a condemned prisoner confessing her crimes, telling them she was expecting a child.

  “Philip had been offered a very promising position with a law firm in Salisbury and we all agreed he should take it. He left Taunton before I realized my predicament, so I was forced to explain to Mother and Father that our agreement to wait for the marriage needed to be altered. Our wedding had to take place far sooner than we had planned.”

  “But there was no wedding,” Daniel said softly.

  “No. There was an accident. The roof of the building that housed Philip‘s offices collapsed in the middle of the afternoon. Most of the others were out that day, but Philip was working at his desk. They told me he was killed instantly.” She muffled a cry. “I was inconsolable, numb with grief. Losing Philip was a horror I could not comprehend and then there was the unborn child to consider.”

  “Who decided you should go to Great-Aunt Mildred?” Daniel asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the desk.

  “Mother, I think? Or perhaps it was Father? I honestly don‘t remember who first broached the suggestion to me. As the weeks passed, ‘twas obvious I could not remain here in Taunton in my condition. At the time, retreating to Cornwall and having Aunt Mildred care for me seemed a godsend.”

  “It was the only sensible choice,” Daniel agreed.

  “Was it? I trusted them; our parents and Aunt Mildred. Believed they would help me.” Rebecca blinked as the tears welled in her eyes. “Yet in the end they betrayed me.”

  Daniel sighed. “It was cruel to tell you the child had perished. Still, were there any other choices? Forgive me, Becca, for asking, but what had you planned to do with this baby? Did you really believe you would be able to keep it, to raise it as your own?”

  Rebecca shrugged helplessly. “I was in deep despair, Daniel, living day to day. I was incapable of thinking beyond the moment. We never openly discussed what would happen once the child arrived. I assumed the decision would be made soon after the baby was born. I also assumed I would be a part of that decision.” Her voice grew soft. “I broke the rules and knew I would pay dearly for my mistake. But I never expected to be betrayed by those I loved and trusted. Heavens, I was a fool.”

  “We have all been foolish at one time or another.”

  Rebecca bowed her head, appreciating her brother‘s efforts to make her feel better. “The past is gone. It does me no good to dwell on my heartache. However, I have been given a second chance, an opportunity to see and hold and love this child. I must find her. I must meet her. Please, will you help me?”

  A wary expression, quickly suppressed, flickered across Daniel‘s face. “I have lived outside of England for eight years, yet even I know of the Earl of Hampton. He is a powerful, wealthy man, with influential friends. It won‘t be easy.”

  “I don‘t expect it to be,” she answered, a sad, bitter smile forming on her lips. “All I know is that it shall be worth it.”

  ———

  Cameron Sinclair, Earl of Hampton, was enjoying a quiet afternoon at his gentleman‘s club, reading a fresh copy of The Times and drinking a glass of exceptionally fine port. Since his household was comprised and dominated by females—his mother, his sister and his daughter—he had found over the years that in order to maintain his sanity it was necessary to on occasion seek the exclusive company of men.

  “For you, my lord.”

  Puzzled, Cameron lowered his newspaper and lifted the note off the silver salver the servant extended toward him. Social invitations as well as letters of a business nature were sent to his London home. This was the first time he had received such a formal document at his club.

  Curious, he broke the seal, which he did not recognize, and read the note. Mr. Daniel Tremaine requests a private meeting with you on a matter most urgent and personal.

  The name was also unfamiliar to the earl. “Is the gentleman who gave you the note here?”

  “Yes, my lord.” The servant bowed low and discreetly pointed to a young man, conservatively and expensively dressed. He was tall, lean, with short dark hair and handsome angular features. Cameron judged him to be two or three years his junior. He did not recognize him, further deepening the mystery.

  “Is he a member of White‘s?” the earl asked.

  “No, my lord. He was admitted today as a guest of the Duke of Aylesford.”

  Cameron‘s brow rose with interest as he contemplated the information. The duke was a shrewd man, known for his successful business investments as well as his high social standards. There were not many who could count upon him for such a personal favor.

  “Tell Mr. Tremaine I will meet with him.” Cameron folded his newspaper and placed it on the nearby table. “Is there a room available where we can have some privacy?”

  “The corner study is currently unoccupied. I will escort the gentleman there and make sure yo
u are not disturbed.”

  “Excellent.”

  The earl strolled casually through the club, finding the snug corner study empty as the servant had promised. He waited but a moment for the other gentleman to join him.

  “I am Daniel Tremaine,” the man said, coming forward to offer his hand. “Thank you for seeing me, Lord Hampton.”

  Putting a pleasant expression on his face, Cameron shook hands. “Your note said it was urgent and private, yet you have the advantage, Mr. Tremaine. I do not recall making your acquaintance.”

  “Actually, we are related, though rather distantly. Fourth or fifth cousins, I believe.”

  “Ah,” Cameron replied in a noncommittal tone. Perhaps Tremaine wished to presume upon that exceedingly weak family connection for a favor, something the earl decided he would consider, if the request was reasonable. “I understand you are a guest of Aylesford‘s.”

  “Yes. The duke and I have joined together in a few business ventures that have proven lucrative for all parties.” The comment was not made in a boastful manner, but rather stated simply as a matter of fact.

  “I am most intrigued by successful business ventures,” Cameron responded with a congenial smile, appreciating a soft sell when it came to investments. “However, all proposals are first reviewed by my man of business. I can give you his name and address if you wish to send along a report that you would like me to consider.”

  A frown insinuated itself between Tremaine‘s brows. “I am not here to discuss business. The matter is personal, and truth be told, rather delicate. It concerns your daughter, Lily.”

  A tap came at the door, and a servant entered, bearing a tray with a wine decanter and two goblets. Tremaine declined a glass; Cameron did the same. The earl exchanged a glance with the servant, narrowing his eyes with impatience. Understanding the silent command, the servant nodded and quickly exited the room.

  “My daughter is six years old, Mr. Tremaine. You cannot possibly wish to make an offer for her.”

  “I know her age,” Tremaine responded in a brittle tone. “I also know that she is not your natural child.”

  Cameron stared at Tremaine, his gaze steady and sure. Tremaine stared back.

  “Nonsense,” Cameron stated firmly, because he did not know what else to say.

  “Hardly nonsense. ‘Tis the truth, and we both know it.”

  The silence was charged and heavy as the earl contemplated Tremaine with an unfriendly gaze. “Blackmail, sir? I thought you said your business ventures were lucrative. Is this the means by which you have built your fortune?”

  Tremaine did not even blink. “Strange, my lord, that you do not deny it.”

  Cameron did his best not to react. “To do so would only give further credence to your outrageous lie.”

  His expression inscrutable, Daniel Tremaine leaned closer. “Six years ago, in Cornwall, on the 26th of August, Mildred Blackwell gave a newly born infant girl into your care. She told you the babe‘s mother was unmarried, of genteel birth, and in need of assistance. For whatever reasons, you and your wife decided to help. However, when you brought the child to London the following spring, you declared the little girl, whom you had named Lily, was your daughter, born of your wife.”

  Cameron‘s chest tightened. It took every ounce of his hard-earned self-control to remain seated. Good God, did he know everything? “Why should any of this matter to you, Tremaine?”

  “Lily‘s natural mother is my sister.”

  For the first time, there was a crack of emotion on Tremaine‘s face. As he leaned back in his chair, he looked vulnerable for just an instant. Then all too soon the intent, determined expression returned in full force. Cameron was not surprised Tremaine was so successful in business. ‘Twas a useful talent to be able to contain and mask one‘s emotions at will.

  The earl cleared his throat. “What do you want?”

  “My sister, Rebecca, would like to meet her daughter.”

  The earl‘s angry, disbelieving reaction was swift, instinctive, protective. “You need to get one thing perfectly clear, Tremaine. Lily is my daughter. Not, your sister‘s daughter.”

  “Understood.”

  Drawing his frayed temper back under control, Cameron pulled down the cuffs of his tailored linen shirtsleeves, stalling for time. “Enlighten me. What does your sister expect to accomplish?”

  A light of doubt entered Tremaine‘s eyes. “She wants only to meet the child.”

  “Lily is six years old. ‘Tis a bit late for a burst of maternal instinct.”

  Tremaine‘s face clouded with anger. “I shall allow that insensitive remark to pass, my lord, but caution you to make no more. Rebecca was told the infant did not survive. She only recently discovered her child‘s fate.”

  “How?” Cameron asked in disbelief.

  “Mildred Blackwell was our great-aunt. She wrote a letter to my parents outlining the plan to give the baby to you. It was found among my father‘s personal papers.”

  The earl rose from his chair. “While not entirely un-sympathetic to your sister‘s plight, you must consider my position. I lost my wife three years ago. Christina adored our daughter and Lily was very close to her mother.

  “Though young, Christina‘s death was a frightening, painful time for her. She has adjusted, as children do, and now finds female guidance and love from her grandmother and my sister, Charlotte, who is unmarried and lives with us. I absolutely refuse to expose Lily to anything that might cause her confusion or distress. Above all else, I will protect my daughter.”

  Tremaine also stood. “Rebecca means her no harm.”

  Cameron frowned skeptically. “That is of little assurance to me.”

  “‘Tis the best I can offer.” Tremaine inclined his head. “That and my promise that Rebecca will not reveal her identity to your daughter.”

  Cameron‘s chest tightened with an unpleasant sensation. His initial instinct was to have Tremaine forcefully removed from the club, but the earl knew he must temper his emotions. While not of the nobility, Tremaine was clearly a formidable opponent. One who had money and resources, not to mention influential friends like the Duke of Aylesford.

  “I need time to consider your request,” Cameron snapped, annoyed that he had to compromise, yet knowing in the end he might have no other choice. “I shall let you know of my decision in a fortnight.”

  “No. I need an answer by the end of the week,” Tremaine countered. “I have made inquiries, my lord, and have heard you are a decent, honorable man. I pray that you will find compassion and sympathy in your heart for my sister‘s pain and suffering and grant her this simple wish.”

  Cameron sighed, deciding it probably would be better to have the matter settled sooner, rather than later. “I will contact you by Friday with my decision.”

  “Thank you.” Tremaine bowed respectfully and headed toward the door, but before he left he faced the earl one final time, his eyes glittering with purpose. “I appreciate that you have been rather suddenly thrust into a difficult position. One that no other man would envy. But as you ponder your decision, I would ask you also to remember one crucial fact, Lord Hampton. Mildred Blackwell‘s letter naming you as the man who was given this child is in my possession.”

  Chapter 2

  Cameron left White‘s in a foul humor. He practically stormed from the club, barely acknowledging the greetings of friends and acquaintances as he stood on the front steps and waited for his horse to be brought around. Once mounted, the earl began the ride home at as fast a pace as he dared, wishing all the while he was at one of his country estates, so he could race home and exercise away some of his edgy frustration.

  His marriage had been an arranged affair, a blending of families and wealth, but he had been very lucky. Within a few months of taking his vows, the earl had fallen deeply in love with his charming bride. And she with him. From that point on, their marriage had been passionate and loving and full of happiness. The only blight on their otherwise perfect life was
Christina‘s inability to bear a child.

  Sadly, she had no difficulty becoming pregnant; the problem was that she could not bring the babe to term. On the occasion of her fourth pregnancy, they had journeyed to one of his smaller estates in Devon. The countess‘s physician had advised that the country air, quiet daily routine and wholesome environment could prove to be the difference.

  Alas, he was wrong. Christina had miscarried the child late in her pregnancy and subsequently sank into a deep depression. Isolated and grieving, the couple had kept the news from their families. Receiving the letter from Mildred Blackwell, a distant relation, requesting that they consider aiding her in finding a home for an illegitimate baby had seemed providential.

  The change in Christina had been instantaneous. The sadness lifted and she eagerly embraced the notion of taking the infant girl into their care. Cameron was elated with anything that made his wife happy, and thus they became parents.

  Ironically, they had not set out to deliberately deceive anyone that the baby girl was not their natural child. There were few servants at the Devon estate, fewer still who knew the countess had miscarried her child. The initial sad news had not been shared with the family and by the time they brought Lily to London in the spring they no longer thought of how she had become their daughter.

  Everyone commented on the baby‘s striking resemblance to Christina and it quickly became a notion that neither the earl nor countess saw fit to correct. Even with their closest family members.

  Perhaps that might have changed over time, but Christina became ill and the focus shifted away from the joy and excitement of the new baby. The illness lingered, worsened. As Christina‘s health steadily declined, it was the presence of Lily that kept them all sane, that brought the only joy and laughter in the household. And when Christina died—Cameron closed his eyes, as if shutting them could miraculously release him from the persistent pain of those three-year-old memories.