The Christmas Countess

by Adrienne Basso

  She accepted it routinely, yet this close she had to look up at him to meet his gaze. He continued to stare at her and she found the sensation disconcerting. He took a step closer and her breathing deepened. His eyes darkened with emotion and for one wild moment she thought he meant to try and seduce her.

  Which was utterly ridiculous. She was most certainly the last person on earth the earl would find appealing. Still, his nearness shattered the calm she was struggling to achieve.

  “Are you afraid of me?” he asked.

  She laughed softly, pride forcing her to lift her head higher and stare steadily back at him. “I do not fear you, my lord.”

  “Then you don‘t like me very much.”

  “Nonsense,” she answered, tempted to tell him that a part of her liked him far too much indeed. Rebecca lifted the glass to her lips to prevent herself from blurting out that humiliating fact.

  “Tell me what is wrong.”

  “If I tell you, it will anger you and I do not wish to argue.” Especially when I know I will not win! “Let me say only that I am struggling to accept the fact that you are in control of how Lily is being raised. Especially since we cannot seem to agree on the proper way for her to behave. In fairness, I presume you will concede it is a difficult situation for me, but let us leave at that, please.”

  He gave her a perplexed glance. “You will no doubt be pleased to learn my opinion has recently undergone a change.”

  “Really?” Rebecca studied the contents of her wine goblet, surprised to see half the liquid gone.

  He poured more wine in their glasses.

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said, even as she told herself firmly she would not drink it.

  “Cameron,” he said.

  “Pardon?”

  The earl studied her over the rim of his wineglass. “My name is Cameron. I would like you to call me that when we are alone.”

  Rebecca‘s brow rose suspiciously. It seemed far too intimate a gesture and not at all in keeping with his character. “Why?”

  “It pleases me.” He took a swallow of his wine and she did the same, stopping abruptly when she realized what she was doing. “My sister asked me earlier this evening about you and your brother. How I knew the two of you? How you had come to be invited to the Christmas celebration this year?”

  Rebecca went very still. “What did you say?”

  “As little as possible.”

  “I am sure that was best,” she said, her face growing warm.

  “Her inquiries were innocent, to be expected, I suppose. Yet I confess to worrying that someday, somehow the truth about Lily will come out,” he admitted. “‘Twould be disastrous.”

  “Secrets of such magnitude are difficult to keep,” she said slowly, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “But it is possible. It helps also that there are so few who know the truth. There are only three of us; you, me and Daniel.”

  “Hmm.”

  A dark heaviness pressed against Rebecca. More than anything she wanted Lily to know the truth, but the risk seemed too great, the consequences too high. If others in society learned she was a bastard, even Lord Hampton‘s position and influence would not fully protect the little girl.

  “Do you want us to leave? Has the chance of exposure become too great?” she asked, her heart thumping with fear. To go now after having a brief taste of being with her child would be agony, but if it was necessary, Rebecca was prepared to make the sacrifice.

  He gave her an alert glance. “Would you go?”

  “Reluctantly.” The moment the word was spoken, Rebecca was swamped in a feeling of bleakness, a sorrow almost beyond tears. “Today was a wonderful day. I did not realize, but I have not truly celebrated the Christmas season for many years. Six to be precise.”

  She saw he seemed to grasp the significance of the number.

  “Lily enjoyed herself too.”

  “She did. I saw her briefly this evening before I came down for supper.” Rebecca smiled as she recalled the conversation. “For some reason, she seemed very interested in the dessert at dinner tonight. She mentioned several times that a raspberry trifle would be served, which she informed me was her very favorite. I‘m not sure why, but she did not have any with her meal, so I promised to ask Cook if she would set a portion aside for Lily to eat tomorrow.”

  “Oh, she did?”

  “Why are you scowling? Did I do something wrong?”

  He stared at her quizzically. “Did Lily happen to mention why she did not eat the dessert?”

  “No.”

  “She is too clever by half. Regrettably I must admit you were right about Lily‘s behavior.” He lowered his head and stared into his empty wine goblet with a brooding expression. “I heard her this afternoon with one of the housemaids. Molly was kind enough to entertain her, but when Lily did not get her own way the situation rapidly deteriorated. It was not pretty.”

  Rebecca could only imagine the tantrum. “She can be willful. And demanding.”

  “She was incorrigible. And rude. And certainly old enough to know better.”

  A light of understanding dawned on Rebecca. “So you punished her by denying her dessert this evening.”

  “That was the plan. First I had to wait until the raging tears had degenerated into sobs and hiccups before meting out my verdict. Yet she managed to neatly outfox me.”

  “Well, she hasn‘t gotten her trifle yet. Nor will she, now that I know the situation.”

  “Don‘t be too sure,” he responded. “You are not the only one she can ask.”

  “She is clever. But at her core, she is a good child, with a kind and generous heart,” Rebecca said, feeling strange at assuming the role of champion and protector. “What Lily needs is practical guidance and a firm hand.”

  Cameron darted a worried glance at her. “Is Mrs. James up to the task?”

  “I don‘t know.”

  “Would you speak with her? I have never before questioned her methods of dealing with Lily, but I‘d like your opinion of Mrs. James‘s abilities and temperament.”

  “I am honored that you would consider my opinion on the matter and would be more than pleased to do as you ask. Though from my observations, I will say that Mrs. James seems perfectly adequate; a competent and caring woman.”

  Rebecca set down her wineglass to prevent herself from drinking any more, though she acknowledged the alcohol was responsible for her honest bravado in their conversation.

  “Forgive my blunt manner, but from what I have observed, you are the problem, not Mrs. James. Lily knows she can get away with most things because no matter how awful she acts, you will protect her from any substantial punishment.”

  “I did make an attempt to change that perception by being firm with her today.” Cameron‘s voice roughened with misery. “And all I can say is that it was bloody difficult punishing her.”

  She saw the despondency in the earl‘s eyes and it gave her pause. His confusion was complete, his frustration genuine.

  Rebecca settled a gentle hand on Cameron‘s arm and leaned closer. “Lily worships you and loves you unconditionally. I know ‘tis hard to disillusion someone when they hold you in such great esteem, but in this case it must be done.”

  “Am I so pathetic that I need the approval of a six-year-old girl?”

  Rebecca squelched the impulse to wrap her arms around him, denying her instinct to soothe and ease his mind. But something in her expression must have alerted him to her feelings of empathy. He moved closer, no longer standing a respectable distance from her.

  Rebecca‘s maternal instincts to comfort vanished, replaced by a sexual awareness. With each breath she drew in the scent of him, the tartness of his subtle cologne, the intoxicating aroma that was so unique to him. Her entire body suddenly ached, almost as if the intense emotions of the past few days were bubbling to the surface.

  The subtle power of the earl‘s hard, masculine essence surrounded her, enveloped her. Rebecca felt her body leaning toward him, in ant
icipation of what would come next. A tension simmered between them.

  “Rebecca.”

  She gazed up at him. His face lowered toward hers, his hand slid to the back of her neck. He brushed against her mouth with his own very gently, a soft, wisp of lips touching lips. It felt warm and firm. It felt wonderful.

  She felt his hand go around her waist, gripping her flesh with a force that should have caused her discomfort but felt secure instead. He kissed her again, angling his head and pressing strongly.

  All question of right and wrong fled from Rebecca‘s conscience as she parted her lips and allowed his tongue to caress the softness of her mouth. She stayed quietly in his embrace, feeling a delicate warm glow start in the pit of her stomach.

  Their tongues twined, playfully, erotically. It felt so achingly good. She spread her hand over his chest and let herself go, let herself enjoy the moment, savor the sensation. How long had it been since she had felt wanted? Desired? A long time. A very long time.

  He was so careful, so gentle. Her body hummed with the desire for more. She heard herself moan. Rebecca was filled with the urge to press her entire body against him, but she held back. She feared this could so easily escalate into unbridled passion.

  Boldly she ran her tongue over his bottom lip, lingering for a moment. Then slowly, almost regretfully, she pulled herself away.

  Their final kiss ended with a soft murmur. He ran his lips across her cheekbones, down her jawline to her throat, pausing for an instant on the vulnerable spot along the curve of her neck.

  And then his touch was gone.

  Their arms dropped, nearly at the same time, as they each took a step back, a step away. For a long moment Rebecca just stood there, stunned by the kisses. Cameron stared down at her and made a sound that was midway between a laugh and a groan. His breath came quick and hard as his eyes bore into her.

  She forced herself to hold his gaze, even as it made her tremble. He blinked and in that moment she glimpsed his puzzled vulnerability, his equal amazement at what had just happened between them.

  Acting instinctively, Rebecca put her hand on his cheek. Cameron pressed his head against her palm. She raised herself on her toes, leaned in toward him and then surprised herself by pressing her lips against his other cheek.

  “Good night, Cameron,” she whispered.

  Turning, she left the room, her heart and mind in a whirl. Lord only knew what complications would emerge from this new twist in their relationship!

  She let out a slight, nervous laugh and climbed the staircase to her bedchamber. It was time to retire, time to reflect and regroup. She did not regret the kisses precisely, for it had been wonderful and something they both clearly wanted. Yet Rebecca could not deny that in hindsight, it might have been better to have stayed at odds with each other.

  Chapter 11

  Hell and damnation, what have I just done?

  Cameron stared about the empty room and groaned. Of all the idiotic, undisciplined, insane things! He was embarrassed and angry with himself as he realized for all the momentary pleasure it had brought him, kissing Rebecca Tremaine had been an extremely bad idea.

  He scratched his head, at a loss to comprehend why she had captivated him so thoroughly. Was it the forbidden aspect of the association, the knowledge that he wanted her so intensely simply because he knew it was unwise, almost dangerous to get involved? Was he honestly that shallow a man, that narrow a thinker?

  True, he had not been with a woman since Christina, which would account for his sexual response. Frankly, he had not been interested in other women. Not respectable, decent women. After experiencing a loving, monogamous relationship, the idea of bed hopping among those women of society willing and eager to engage in an affair held no appeal for him. Likewise, the idea of keeping a mistress smacked of a business arrangement, devoid of emotional commitment.

  He missed the physical release of a passionate sexual encounter, but had learned to adjust. Yet Rebecca‘s kiss had breached his defenses; her kiss had somehow unleashed his sexual desire, yet it was more than sex. She had awakened within him all the tender, vulnerable feelings he thought had been buried with his wife.

  What in the hell had ever possessed him to kiss her?

  Impulse? Opportunity?

  He had been aroused by her nearness, but had managed to ignore it on other occasions. What was so different about tonight? She had looked fetching, of course, but then she always did. It had been fun trouncing Lord Bailey and his partner at cards. He and Rebecca had played well together, synchronized in strategy, near equals in skill. Had that created the connection?

  Perhaps it had been the way she took the news about Lily, with sympathy and understanding of his dilemma? She had not tossed his mistaken attitude back at him with a superior air, claiming she knew the truth all along, berating him for not seeing it sooner. She had been kind and gracious.

  And in return he had acted upon his base impulse and kissed her. Worse, he knew he should not and yet he had done it anyway. To his discredit.

  Frowning, Cameron shifted to relieve the growing discomfort in his trousers. This unwanted desire for her was bloody unacceptable. Yet even more volatile was confirming that she felt the same degree of attraction for him.

  The fervor of her response was something he needed to push firmly from his memory. And when the kisses had ended, instead of slapping his face, she had offered him comfort and understanding in a gesture nearly as intimate as the kiss they had shared. That almost bothered him more.

  Cameron tossed back the wine remaining in his goblet, but refrained from refilling it. Alcohol was not the answer. Besides, his wits were befuddled enough.

  As much as he wanted to deny it, he did admire Rebecca. She had character and principles. A quick mind and a sharp wit. She did not find it imperative to fill silences with nervous chatter or silly questions as so many other women he knew did. There was also a quiet patience and self-possession in her manner he found restful and comforting.

  Cameron headed toward the fireplace, his eyes drawn to Christina‘s portrait. In many ways their life together seemed like a very distant memory. Had it truly been three years since her death?

  The sharpest pain of loss had dulled, thankfully overtaken by a recollection of the happy times they had shared. Cameron felt grateful he could still recall Christina‘s musical voice, her merry laugh, her loving touch. He remembered too, her generous spirit. There was no doubt in his mind that she would want him to move forward with his life, that she would want him to be happy.

  With Rebecca Tremaine? Christ, where had that thought sprung from? A life with Rebecca. Was it possible they would find happiness together given the peculiar circumstances that formed their initial connection or would it be a disaster?

  Heaven help him, he simply did not know.

  He should return to his guests, yet Cameron remained near the fireplace, one arm resting across the mantel, the other hand deep in his pocket. His expression was perturbed, as he was reminded of those kisses, something he should forget. Or better still, something that never should have occurred.

  He heard someone enter. For a moment his heart raced, thinking Rebecca had returned. But it was his mother who stood in the doorway.

  “Oh, here you are, Cameron. I was wondering where you had gone.” The dowager countess peered about the room as though she expected to see another person. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, of course.” Cameron picked up the poker and stirred the fire, angling himself so his face, and other parts of his anatomy, were concealed in the shadows.

  “First Charlotte disappears and then you. I‘m not sure what to make of it.”

  Cameron cleared his throat. “I apologize, Mother. There was an urgent matter that needed my attention. As all of our guests seemed occupied, I did not think it rude to leave for a few moments.”

  “It seemed that you were gone for more than a few minutes.” The dowager countess crossed to the fireplace and held out her han
ds to capture the warmth. “I noticed Miss Tremaine in the hall on my way here. I presume she was your important business?”

  Cameron‘s eyes darkened. The last thing he needed was his mother‘s involvement. She had broadly hinted for the past year that he needed to think about marrying again. It was his duty, to his family and his title. As much as they all loved and adored Lily, she would be unable to inherit the earldom or any of the entailed property. For that, a son was required.

  “I had but a brief word with Miss Tremaine,” Cameron said. “And I presume Charlotte has taken herself off to bed. You know how company tires her.”

  “I am not certain of that at all. Your sister has been acting a bit oddly. Surely you have seen it too? Did you notice her gown this evening? And her hairstyle? Something is definitely different and it is more than just the absence of her spinster‘s cap. It troubles me.”

  Cameron sighed wearily. “I am unaware of any significant changes.”

  His mother eyed him sharply. “Then clearly you have other matters on your mind. One would have to be blind not to notice Charlotte‘s transformation.”

  Cameron gave the fire one final jab, then replaced the poker. His mother was not by nature a meddle-some woman. She had shown a marked, though not overbearing, interest in her children when they were younger and offered counsel as they grew older. No matter what their age, she had championed them in times of crisis.

  She had not, nor did she appear, interested in dictating the course of their lives as they became adults. Cameron sincerely hoped that was not about to change.

  “I will make certain to compliment Charlotte on her looks the next time I see her,” he said.

  “I doubt ‘tis you she is trying to impress. I have noted that she seems to be spending a great deal of time with Mr. Tremaine.” He heard her skirts rustle as she came near. She sent him a significant glance. “What can you tell me of him?”

  Cameron held back a grimace. What was going on with the women in his family? First his sister and now his mother. Why was everyone so bloody interested in Daniel Tremaine?