Christmas At Thorncliff Manor

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Christmas At Thorncliff Manor Page 10

by Sophie Barnes


  “I’ll drink to that.” Montsmouth raised his glass in salute. Belgrave, Edward, and Lamont followed suit.

  “Yes,” Edward agreed, “but you didn’t appear so when you were here for the summer. Something’s different now. A change has come over you during the last few days.”

  Pressing his lips together, Lamont looked at each of his friends. “Very well, I’ll relent, but only if you swear to keep it a secret. For now.”

  “Of course,” Belgrave said.

  “You have our word,” Montsmouth added.

  Edward nodded his agreement, wondering what might have happened to lift the duke’s spirits with such swift efficiency. He took another sip of his brandy and watched the duke expectantly.

  “I am…enamored,” Lamont confessed.

  Edward almost spat out his drink. Instead, he managed to clamp his mouth shut, keeping the liquid inside and almost choking on it as a result. Coughing, he couldn’t help but notice the looks of surprise on Belgrave’s and Montsmouth’s’ faces. “Enamored?” Edward sputtered. This, he had not expected.

  “With Lady Laura,” Lamont clarified. “She is…” His eyes took on a distant glow. “…quite remarkable.”

  A moment of silence passed while Edward, Belgrave, and Montsmouth simply stared at Lamont as though seeing the man for the first time. Montsmouth was the first to find his tongue. “Good for you,” he said. “You deserve to be happy.”

  “I’d say we all deserve to be,” Lamont murmured.

  “Perhaps,” Montsmouth acquiesced.

  “Judging from your inability to stop from smiling,” Edward said, “I presume the lady reciprocates your affection?”

  Lamont nodded. “She does indeed. But…” His smile faltered. “Given the circumstances, I have asked her to take a week to consider her options.”

  Belgrave frowned. “What circumstances?”

  “Our difference in age,” Lamont said.

  He finally looked as grave as Edward was accustomed to him doing, but the expression no longer suited him, and Edward wondered if it ever had. “Age is irrelevant if you care for each other,” he told the duke.

  “But—”

  “The heart wants what the heart wants. If hers is already engaged, then a week of thinking is not going to change that. I should know.” He hadn’t meant for the last bit to slip out, but there was no taking it back now.

  “How do you mean?” Belgrave asked.

  Everyone’s attention was now riveted on Edward. Damn it. He was either going to have to talk or endure an infinite amount of questions. “I’ve tried to fall out of love. It doesn’t work.”

  “You’re in love?” Lamont asked with wide-eyed amazement.

  “Did you not think me capable of such profound feeling?” Edward leaned back, stretched out his legs, and crossed his arms. “I know I’m often considered flip, always making jokes and enjoying a good laugh. People don’t expect me to think of settling down, taking responsibility, and starting a family. However, when it comes to my estate, I am most dedicated. It’s been prosperous ever since I inherited it. There are no debts to speak of.”

  “Frankly, I’ve never really wondered about your business acumen,” Belgrave said. “But I’ve only ever known you socially, at parties and such. It makes sense that you might be completely different when dealing with your private affairs.”

  “I will say, I am lucky to still have my father. He has taught me a great deal and has saved me from carrying your burden, Lamont. And yours, Montsmouth.”

  Montsmouth dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Not having a father can be quite difficult, but tell me, for it seems as though we’ve gotten away from it, and my curiosity must be sated. Who is it you pine for?”

  “Can you not guess?” Belgrave asked. “It must be Lady Fiona.”

  “Ah yes,” Lamont said. His gaze met Edward’s. “Of course.”

  Expelling a breath, Edward raised his glass to his lips and allowed the spicy liquid to fill his mouth before sliding down his throat, enjoying the way it heated his insides. “Her family and mine have been close for years. I spent many summers at the Oakland estate and developed a bond that can never be severed. In age, I was closest to Spencer. He and I were at school together, but Lady Fiona was the little sprite who invariably called to the mischief-maker inside me. She was a good sport, always ready for a bit of adventure, so in spite the difference in age, I couldn’t help but look forward to seeing her – especially as she got older.”

  “She is nineteen?” Montsmouth asked.

  Edward nodded. “Yes. And I am thirty.” He pushed out a breath before saying, “It never feels like much of a gap when I am with her, but on paper, she’s a great deal younger than I.”

  “You’re saying this to a man who hopes to marry a woman who’s eighteen years his junior,” Lamont murmured.

  “Quite right,” Edward said. He sympathized with the duke and was glad to know there were only eleven years between himself and Fiona. “But it is the reason for my attempts to stay away from the family since the summer. Being near her has become…difficult.”

  “She doesn’t share your sentiment?” Belgrave asked.

  “She doesn’t know of it.”

  “Good God, man! Why not?”

  “Because once I tell her, there’ll be no taking it back. It will alter everything between us and I…I fear losing her friendship over it.”

  “Then you have no reason to suppose she might feel as strongly for you as you do for her?” Montsmouth asked.

  “No. I do not.” Edward had done his best to study her expressions whenever they’d been together, but even as he’d pushed her down into the snow and desire had torn through his veins, she’d stared back up at him with bewilderment in her eyes. He could not allow himself to take advantage or to possibly ruin what was between them. “She is young. I dare say she’s not yet aware of how easily she can affect a man.”

  “Perhaps you should simply court her without her being made aware,” Belgrave suggested.

  Edward frowned. “You want me to trick her?”

  “No. Don’t be absurd.” Belgrave pressed his lips together before clarifying. “Try treating her as a gentleman ought to treat a lady in whom he holds an interest. Take her for strolls, a ride in a carriage, allow the occasional touch and meeting of the eyes. Give her the chance to become more aware of you, a chance for her to change her opinion of you from a brother figure to that of a man she might actually want.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Lamont said.

  “Perhaps not,” Edward agreed.

  He’d been unable to find the balance between playing the prankster with her and actually being the man whose desire for her would likely lead to his downfall. Perhaps a secret courtship would be the answer. It would, hopefully, give her a means by which to recognize she was now fully grown and that their relationship had to change, one way or the other. They would either succumb to a mutual passion or find a more socially acceptable means of interacting in the future. Naturally, he hoped it might be the former rather than the latter.

  “But enough about me,” he said, turning his attention on Belgrave and Montsmouth. “Will the two of you tell us how things are progressing with Lady Rachel and Lady Emily?”

  “I say,” Lamont pronounced, “I wasn’t aware there was an interest there.”

  “On the contrary, my interest in Lady Emily is very sincere,” Montsmouth said. His eyes, which were generally cool, had warmed at the mere mention of her name. “I have recently discovered we share an interest in art. She has talent unlike anything else I’ve ever seen in someone so young. It’s really quite extraordinary.”

  “So you’ve formed an attachment?” Belgrave asked.

  “Yes. I believe so. My intention is to speak with her father tonight, though I fear he might not approve.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” Edward asked. He knew the Earl of Oakland well and could not imagine him ever denying any of his children their happiness. “If you are the
man Emily wants, he’ll have no objections since you’re obviously from a good family and...” The earl’s dark expression gave him pause. “What is it?”

  “Lord Oakland’s father is dead because of my grandfather.”

  The words hung in the air, accentuated by the ensuing silence. Edward stared at Montsmouth. They all did. “Would you care to elaborate?” Edward eventually asked when nobody else said a word.

  “You know Lord Oakland’s father and Lord Duncaster were killed at sea?” When Edward nodded, Montsmouth said, “That’s because my grandfather betrayed them.” He went on to explain what had happened and how he’d initially come to Thorncliff in search of the exact same treasure the Huntleys sought.

  “So the rumors are true?” Belgrave asked.

  “They are,” Edward confirmed. “I know from Fiona that several clues to it were uncovered when she and her family were here during the summer, though it has yet to be found.”

  “Perhaps now, with this extra bit of information from Montsmouth, doing so might be more possible,” Lamont said. “If it consists of more than a jewelry box, then it must be hidden in a room large enough to accommodate it.”

  “The only problem is, no such room seems to exist,” Montsmouth said. “Lady Emily says her brother Spencer took a look at the blueprints of Thorncliff when he was last here. They searched every room that was on it. And while secret tunnels and an underground villa have since been found, the treasure has not.”

  “Well, perhaps we should all try looking again,” Belgrave said. “Fresh eyes might offer a different perspective.”

  “Lady Fiona and I have deduced that it must be on the ground floor.” Edward took a moment to fill them in on the conversation she and he had had on the issue and the places they’d searched since then. “Lord Duncaster’s study was a dead end, by the way.”

  “I propose we keep our minds open,” Lamont said. “If all of these secret passages and rooms exist as you claim, there might be more. The trick will be finding them.”

  “You’re right,” Montsmouth said, “but even if we do and the treasure is there, that still doesn’t solve the problem of my heritage.”

  “Does Lady Emily know of it?” Edward asked.

  Montsmouth nodded. “She does.”

  “And she is willing to accept it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’d advise you not to mention it to Oakland.” Seeing the look of apprehension in Montsmouth’s eyes, Edward added, “What happened was beyond your control. You had nothing to do with it personally. So why put a stumbling block in your path when there’s no need for it?”

  “I feel as though I ought to be honest.”

  “And you have been with Lady Emily, whom you plan to marry. You are not in debt, your title is unblemished, and there is no scandal attached to your name. Don’t let your grandfather’s poor judgment ruin your future.”

  Montsmouth nodded. “I’ll think on it.”

  “In the meantime,” Edward said, “we’ve yet to hear about you and Lady Rachel, Belgrave. Personally, I have to say I am thrilled to learn of your interest in her. Truth be told, her chance of ever marrying was looking rather dim, and lord knows she’s been against it. If you have the power to make her happy, then I’m all for it.”

  “I must confess I admire her a great deal,” Belgrave said. “She’s wonderfully clever, with a touch of sarcastic wit I find rather appealing. Of course, she has yet to show an interest in receiving any amorous attention from me, but I do believe she might begin to do so soon. I think my interest in her work is what draws her at the moment.”

  “I’ve no doubt about it,” Edward told him. “Lady Rachel lives for her experiments, so meeting someone who wishes to know more about them must be compelling for her. Not to mention the fact she’s probably in desperate need of kissing.”

  Belgrave blanched. “I beg your pardon?”

  Edward grinned. “She has been wound up tight ever since she was little. No doubt she’ll combust in your arms if you let her.”

  “Good God,” Belgrave murmured.

  “Precisely,” Edward agreed. He drained his glass and set it on the table. “I find it to be an extraordinary coincidence that we should all find compatible partners during our stay here.” He rose to his feet. “Shall we go in search of our quarries?”

  Voicing their agreement, his friends stood and followed him from the room.

  Chapter 13

  Having finished their tea in the parlor, Fiona and her sisters decided to go in search of everyone else. Lady Duncaster had gone to take Christmas baskets to the local tenants earlier, and their parents had gone with her.

  “Don’t you think they’ll be back soon?” Laura asked while they headed toward the foyer. “I hoped to speak with them about something.”

  “About Lamont?” Fiona asked with a nudge to her sister’s side. Rounding a corner, they saw the gentlemen coming toward them, and Fiona quietly added, “Speaking of which.”

  “Ladies,” Chadwick said as he and his friends drew to a halt before them. His eyes darted toward Fiona, lingering on her long enough to cause a small tremor to race down her spine. Smiling, he gave his attention to her sisters. “The sun is out, so we thought we might take advantage. How does a ride to the village sound?”

  “Like a marvelous idea,” Fiona blurted with far more enthusiasm than she’d intended. Heating beneath everyone’s attention, she deliberately tempered her tone and said, “It will be nice to get out for a bit, and since it is winter, one must do so when there’s an opportunity.”

  The corner of Chadwick’s mouth twitched with a hint of humor. “Quite right. I’ll ask the butler to arrange for a couple of carriages to be brought round, if everyone is in agreement?”

  “An outing sounds like a lovely idea,” Emily said. Rachel and Laura concurred, and twenty minutes later, after collecting their pelisses, gloves, and bonnets, the ladies were escorted outside by the gentlemen.

  Chadwick led Fiona toward the first carriage. His hand steadily clasping hers, he helped her up. “Will you ride with us, Lamont?” he called to the duke, while Fiona made herself comfortable on the forward facing bench. A second later, Laura climbed in, claiming the spot beside Fiona so Lamont and Chadwick could sit opposite.

  “Ready?” Chadwick asked. He tapped the roof of the carriage once everyone gave their consent, and the conveyance took off.

  Fiona glanced out the window at the passing scenery of naked trees and barren landscapes still covered in a thin layer of white. She dared not look at Chadwick for fear of what it might do to her and of what he might see in her gaze. The possibility of his discovering how drastically her feelings for him had changed was a horrifying notion indeed. She still hadn’t come to terms with this sudden awareness that filled her whenever he was near and did not quite understand what it meant, much less what to do with it. He was a friend – a very close one.

  If she gave but a hint of her heart’s desire, he would probably tell her how honored he was right before he tried to convince her that it was nothing more than a passing fancy. After all, he was a grown man with vast amounts of experience while she…she was little more than a silly girl capable of making him laugh. It would be humiliating to have him dismiss her as such. Worse than that, it would lead to an awkwardness between them that she vehemently wanted to avoid.

  Over the past few days while he’d helped her search for the jewelry box, her attraction toward him had grown. She could feel herself savoring every glance and every touch they happened to share. Then he would say something silly or laugh, reminding her she was like a sister. It was all she ever would be, and if she were wise, she would stop hoping for more right now, before it was too late.

  “That bonnet of yours is exceptionally pretty, Fiona,” Chadwick said, his voice breaking through her secret ponderings and forcing her attention back to him.

  She turned to face him, allowing a quick glance at Lamont whose steady gaze remained fixed on Laura with whom he conversed
in a whisper. They were discussing the plot for the novel Laura was writing, and Fiona couldn’t help but appreciate the attention and interest the duke was affording her sister.

  Allowing her gaze to return to Chadwick’s, she forced a smile and said, “Thank you. It was a gift from Mama for my birthday.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t attend.” His eyes held hers while his jaw seemed to clench, all joviality gone in favor of a far more serious expression. Unnerved by it, Fiona did her best to push back her rising discomfort. “I trust the novel I sent you was to your liking?”

  “Indeed.” He’d given her a copy of Emma which she’d happily devoured over the course of an evening. She’d read it three more times since. “I believe I sent you a letter of thanks. Did you not receive it?”

  “Oh yes. Of course I did.” He cleared his throat, averted his gaze for a second, and then allowed it to latch onto hers once more. His eyes appeared slightly darker now, and the effect was such that Fiona felt her heart tremble.

  No.

  No, no, no.

  She had to get her silly nerves under control. “It was a good story,” she managed to say.

  “I thought so too.”

  His response surprised her. “You’ve read it?”

  He finally smiled the sort of smile she was used to. It allowed her to relax a little as he told her gently, “I had to know what I was giving you, so yes, I bought my own copy.”

  “And?” They finally seemed to be returning to their usual sense of camaraderie. “What did you think of it?”

  “Obviously, I liked it, or I wouldn’t have given it to you.”

  “You might simply have thought it would appeal to me without actually liking it yourself.”

  Grinning, he dipped his head in acquiescence. “A possibility, to be sure, but far from the truth. If you must know, I enjoyed the author’s depiction of class and the wit with which she writes.”

  “That is why I admire her work,” Laura said, joining the conversation. “If I can only produce a novel on par with hers, I would be more than content.”

 

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