Christmas Delights

by Heather Hiestand

  “He wants to protect his interests, one way or another. But you want to marry for love.”

  “If a man isn’t willing to do anything for you, is it really love?”

  “Don’t you want a man who is strong?” Rose asked. “I’d rather have a man know what he wants—to be ruthless, even—in pursuing his interests. It shows character.”

  “I am my father’s daughter. I suppose I want to be the ruthless one, accomplishing what I want.” She dropped the cloak with a sigh. It did have a soot stain. “This will need a vinegar wash.” The maid took it and placed it on the bed with the other washables.

  “Lewis is quite strong-willed for a relatively quiet person.” Rose tossed a yellowing chemise into the same pile of clothing.

  “I have noticed,” she admitted. “I will have to bring the baron up to snuff if my father insists.”

  “If you love Lewis, you shouldn’t marry someone else,” Rose ventured.

  “He loves someone else,” Victoria said. “Alys.”

  Rose wrinkled her nose. “He doesn’t; he’s just been romantic about her, to protect his heart. And keep himself free of entanglements, I expect. Men are like that, you know, when they aren’t ready. They swing between indifference and ruthlessness.”

  “Perhaps you are right. My relationship with my late husband was almost tepid in comparison to what I feel for Lewis.”

  “You think your husband was indifferent to you?” Rose shook her head.

  Victoria winced. “He died so easily. I suppose it wasn’t his fault, but I did wonder, you know, if I wasn’t worth living for.”

  “That’s a terrible thought,” Rose said. She put an unblemished velvet gown aside. “I admit I’ve wondered myself if any man would ever really love me. I know I wasn’t even worthy of it in the past. I was a bad sister.”

  “You mustn’t be so hard on yourself,” Victoria exclaimed.

  “No, it’s true. My foolishness led to my older sister’s ruin. All of our lives changed. None of us could take advantage of being related to a marquess because of our sinful behavior. He never really took my sister, and therefore any of us, into fashionable society.”

  “How do you see my father? As a consolation prize?” How would her proud father deal with that?

  “Not at all.” Rose leaned forward and took her hand. “I like him very much. Oh, I know he’s older, and not exactly good society, but I love his stern, mysterious air, his decisiveness. And yet he doesn’t seem to have a temper.”

  “He’s too good at getting his own way to resort to temper,” Victoria said.

  “I like that, because I do have one,” Rose said. Her smile revealed a dimple in one cheek. “I want a man who isn’t afraid to know what he wants. It makes me . . . well, fluttery, I suppose.”

  “My father gives you the flutters? That’s something.” Victoria contemplated Rose. “That is what Lewis gives me.” At the very least.

  Rose squeezed her hand. “Let us help each other, then. If your father marries me, maybe you can have Lewis on his terms instead of your father’s. I’ll do what I can to keep you in front of him. I’ll blackmail him into attending parties. You just have to be patient. If I marry your father, you could be engaged to Lewis in a year or so, don’t you think?”

  Victoria forced herself to nod, while quaking at the mere thought of that word. A year. “What if he meets someone else first?”

  “He wouldn’t even be at this house party if it wasn’t for that dratted submarine. He doesn’t see himself the way women see him. He’s being paid to be here by the earl and doesn’t realize he’s as much a prime marital candidate as anyone else. You knew that, didn’t you?”

  Victoria took her hand from Rose and twisted her fingers together. “I suppose I did.”

  “I don’t imagine he meets very many respectable ladies. Not with his head always buried in an engine.”

  “Does he meet unrespectable ones?” Victoria squeaked.

  “How would I know?” Rose asked. “No one would tell me, and there is nothing to overhear down here. If I lived in Battersea, it might be different.”

  Victoria looked at the clock. “It is past time to dress for dinner.”

  “I will let you dress, then.” Rose patted her hand again. “I will wait downstairs in the drawing room. Some of the family might be down there by now.”

  Victoria was seated between her father and the Baron of Alix at dinner again. Rose sat on her father’s other side, which meant Victoria only had to speak to the baron; her father had no interest in conversing.

  She kept half an ear on Rose’s conversation, curious to see how she would behave. She spoke well on a variety of general topics without being overly silly. Could Rose, at twenty-one, manage to hold her father’s attention? Surprisingly, yes. Victoria herself sometimes thought she was boring him. But then, she’d had little stimulation since Sir Humphrey’s death, and before that she’d only been interested in wedding plans. Perhaps she’d been as dull as the expression on her father’s face warranted. She’d learned a great deal from listening to conversations with his business associates over dinner, however.

  She sighed and glanced across the table, where Lewis often sat. Tonight, though, he had taken a tray in his room.

  “You are rather quiet,” the baron said. The candlelight reflected in his warm brown eyes, making them glow. He had fine looks. Thick, dark hair, a narrow face, a very patrician nose. A good figure, too, though rather on the lean side. She hadn’t known she liked well-developed muscles until she’d seen Lewis without a shirt on. Still, John had an appearance that would please any woman. His mouth tilted slightly when he spoke, and a full lower lip gave him a sensual air. She sighed. Perhaps she simply preferred blond men.

  She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Simply taking in the sight of you in that magnificent tie.”

  He self-consciously touched the gleaming black silk dotted with a diamond pin. “I am fancy tonight, eh?”

  “You look magnificent,” she assured him.

  They continued in a similar flirtatious vein throughout dinner. During her brief exchanges with her father, he seemed approving. When they finished their meal, John offered her his arm and escorted her to the drawing room, then went back to join the men for their cigars.

  She expected to end the evening with further flirtation with John and was very surprised to see Lewis, dressed more casually than the other men in a black suit and a green and red tartan vest, in the doorway, with the earl at his side.

  Lewis found his eyes going directly to Victoria as the men entered the drawing room. He had joined them in the hallway because he wanted a word with the earl. His legs were rubbery, but he thought he could do well enough if the coughing stayed at a minimum.

  They found seats in a loose circle and began to talk about the submarine disaster. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Victoria sit down on the sofa next to his chair. The baron joined her. She wasn’t wasting time. The man was clearly besotted with her, and he wondered if she realized that.

  What would happen if the baron proposed? Not his problem. Victoria had to make her own decisions. Then he noticed another interesting pairing: Rupert Courtnay had actually gone to join his cousin Rose at the piano.

  The sound of metal ringing against glass caught his attention, and he turned to see Frederick Dickondell, the patriarch of the clan, with the countess. He bowed slightly to the crowd as conversation diminished.

  Lewis winced.

  “Not another engagement,” Victoria muttered. “Is there a prize for house parties with the most romantic couplings?”

  The baron was smiling at Victoria. Lewis wanted to punch him in the face. Smarmy bastard. Did he think she was giving out hints? If so, it was more likely to be to him, seated on the other side. Did the baron ever wonder why she’d started to pay attention to him so suddenly?

  Frederick Dickondell began to speak again. “Come forward, my dear son Samuel and Maud. I would like to announce the felicitous occasion of the
ir engagement.”

  The crowed clapped politely, with a few weak “hear, hears,” but it was obvious no one really cared. The third Dickondell engagement could not hold their attention, particularly when the young man in question was marrying his own second cousin, who had lived with the family for years.

  Lewis could not help remembering the lack of excitement at his proposal to his cousin when he had lived with the family for some time. He understood why no one would care. Nothing to gossip about, really. No desperate secrets to uncover. Why had Samuel allowed this at such a young age? He supposed Maud was the same age. Perhaps they had loved each other from the cradle.

  When he glanced back at Victoria, she had her head quite close to the baron’s, who was speaking intently to her. Lewis’s stomach churned at the thought of the man proposing. Could it all be a trick? Could she have enticed the baron to propose to make him come up to snuff?

  No, he didn’t really think that. She didn’t bother with hidden motivations. The truth of her infatuation, or even love, was written on her expressive face. Good God, he couldn’t stand to sit next to the simpering pair of them any longer. He stood, careful not to look at the sofa, and ignored the earl’s next question. After straightening his jacket, he walked to the piano and leaned against it.

  Rose was playing a Mozart piece somewhat ineptly. Rupert Courtnay didn’t wince when her timing was off. Either he had a tin ear or he was enraptured by the girl. Lewis hoped for rapture.

  Rose blushed when she finished the piece. “I am a better singer, I am afraid.”

  “I’m certain you have a delightful voice, my dear, but I quite enjoyed the piece. One of my favorites,” Courtnay said smoothly.

  Lewis waited to see if the enigmatic older man would smile, but he did not quite go to such an extreme.

  Rose cleared her throat delicately.

  “Do you require a glass of punch?” Lewis inquired.

  “Oh, tea, I think.” She smiled at him.

  “Here is champagne coming, courtesy of the latest engagement,” Lewis said.

  Courtnay frowned. “Yet another one? Wasn’t paying attention.”

  “I think that’s all the male Dickondells paired off now,” Lewis told him.

  Courtnay lifted his bushy, gray-threaded eyebrows. “No dealings with them. The family must want to keep wedding costs low by combining ceremonies.”

  Lewis nodded. “Local farming family. Connected to the Shields. Nice people, really.”

  “Nice will get you nothing in this world.”

  “Interesting point. Rose, why don’t you see if you can flag down a tray of that champagne?” He meant for her to go away.

  “A gentleman might offer to do that for a lady,” she demurred.

  He glared at her behind Courtnay’s back.

  “But then,” she continued, “you were nearly killed so recently. You are probably all but too weak to stand.”

  “So thoughtful, our Rose.” Lewis directed the remark to Courtnay as she walked away.

  “Thoroughly nice girl,” the man rumbled.

  “Speaking of this excessive number of engagements recently, are you considering matrimony yourself?” Lewis inquired.

  CHAPTER 16

  “I’ve been married,” Courtnay said with no display of emotion. “But she’s long gone now; my wife, I mean.”

  “Yes, of course,” Lewis said. “I meant remarriage. A second bride?”

  Courtnay, normally a rather still man, tapped the heel of his shoe on the floor. “Might get a bit lonely when Victoria remarries. I expect her to soon, you know.”

  Lewis winced. “This has been the most engagement-filled house party in the history of house parties.” He covered the piano keys, noticing his hands were shaking slightly.

  “All those Dickondells. I can’t understand why my daughter didn’t snatch one up.”

  Because she is in love with me. But Lewis didn’t want to reveal that to this man. No, he saw Courtnay’s hard, secretive edge. He’d never let anyone completely in, even his successor. Rose, having learned a harsh lesson about being a gossip, might make a good wife for such a tight-lipped man. “There are still more potential brides available, sir.”

  “Are you looking for a wife?” The man’s sharp eyes regarded him.

  He cocked his head. “No, no, but my cousin has her eye on a gentleman.”

  “Rose?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Lives down here with her family?”

  “Willing to move. She’s from Bristol originally, then lived in London before Polegate.”

  Courtnay’s nostrils flared, as if scenting prey. “Been to Liverpool?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, but a girl will do anything for the right man.”

  His bushy brows pulled together. “Why would I be the right man, Noble?”

  Lewis shook his head. “She likes you, might love you, even. You’d have to answer as to why.”

  “Old enough to be her father. She’s Victoria’s age.” His eyes squinted as he pondered Lewis’s words.

  “She likes Victoria,” Lewis told him. “I doubt they would clash. She’s been kind to Penelope.”

  “Wish my brother would pull his head out of his cups long enough to deal with that situation,” Courtnay rumbled. “Bloody mess, family.”

  “Sometimes. Wouldn’t it be lovely to have a wife to deal with those domestic concerns?”

  Courtnay’s gaze drifted up to the ceiling. “I shall have to consider that.” He clapped Lewis on the shoulder, exhibiting the iron strength of a younger man. “My thanks for making me aware of the situation.”

  Lewis nodded as Courtnay turned away. Victoria was standing at the window now, her soft gaze on the handsome baron, right next to her, his head tilted in her direction. As he watched, the baron put his hand on her cheek and brushed a stray curl behind her ear. He clenched his fists. Why was the Scotsman daring to touch his woman?

  “Trouble in paradise?” Courtnay asked.

  Lewis stared at the man. Could he have some idea of what had transpired?

  “Are you in love with Victoria?” Courtnay continued.

  “She is not for me,” Lewis said stiffly. “I have too much keeping me in the London area.”

  “If you aren’t willing to fight for her, then you are quite correct,” Courtnay said.

  I’m willing to fight to have her in my bed, but not to give her my name. “Are you saying that you don’t really expect her to marry a successor for your business? That this has been some kind of a game to you?”

  “I don’t imagine she has entirely explained the situation to you, Noble. I trust my daughter to do what is best for herself and the businesses she will someday inherit.”

  Lewis stared at Courtnay. What a load of rubbish. Victoria did not see any way out of the situation her father had put her in. What game was this? It made him ever more certain that he would not want to be in business with Rupert Courtnay, much less under his thumb. “I trust her to do the same for herself, and for Penelope. She’s headstrong but a good woman.”

  Courtnay nodded. “I agree. She does her duty.”

  Lewis took his leave of the man and went upstairs without another glance at Victoria and her Scotsman. It seemed she had made her decision, to flirt so openly with the man in front of her lover.

  He did wonder, though. Wasn’t it always said that women had a type of man they found attractive? He was blond, muscular, an inventor with oil crusted under his nails and in the lines of his palms. The baron was dark and lithe, a nobleman who spent his time managing family interests. How could Victoria find them equally striking?

  Victoria had seen Penelope off to the nursery that morning with a promise to meet her an hour before luncheon for puzzles and more of the fairy tale. She’d thought of an interesting twist to the part about the unrung bells. But when she entered the puzzle room, Penelope wasn’t there. Lady Rowena sat at the large puzzle of Pevensey-Sur-Mer Fort with her new fiancé, Ernest Dickondell. Victoria suspected
the girl had done the puzzle of her own home so many times that she knew the pieces by heart, could tell from which of them had been dotted by tea, or treacle tart, or bits of marzipan, what corner they belonged in. It was an excellent way to keep touching Ernest. She managed to slide her hand against his repeatedly as she somehow ended up with pieces that needed to be placed just by Ernest’s.

  Victoria toyed with the pieces of the Hampton Court puzzle for half an hour, but when Penelope still didn’t appear, she became nervous. She left with a wave at the lovebirds and went up to the nursery, where the maid said she had wandered off after breakfast.

  “That was hours ago!”

  The maid sighed. “I’m sorry, milady. The countess has a cousin visiting who left their three children under our care without any extra help. Two of them are ill.”

  Victoria made a face when she heard the sound of sneezing somewhere off to the left, behind a rocking horse. “I’ll let you return to your work. Thank you.”

  She went down to their room, but no one was there. Penelope’s coat, muffler, and mittens were also not present. Should she go to luncheon without her cousin or look for the girl? Maybe she’d gone back to the wishing well. Victoria went to the window and pulled back the lace curtains underneath the heavy velvet drapes. The remains of snow had desiccated, turning to ice, but the sky was clear and the sun was out. It wouldn’t be too bad of a walk. She put on her coat and went outside, regretting the loss of a meal.

  Outside, the sun offered plenty of light but little warmth. She hunched her shoulders and wondered if she should have told someone where she was going. Would the baron be concerned if she didn’t turn up? Had Lewis left his sickbed for good? If so, he was more likely to eat sandwiches in the stables than have a proper meal with the house-party guests.

  Maybe she wanted to avoid both of them. She set out across the moat, hoping someone watched her from a window and wished they were spending time with her. Funny to make such a specific wish now, when she’d been so careful to wish generally on the proper wishing well day. The truth was that she had no idea who she really wanted to be thinking of her.