Mistletoe, Mischief, and the Marquis (The Heirs' Club)

by Amelia Grey

  He wished she hadn’t said the word bed. That brought an image of her dressed in a pristine white, sleeveless night rail with all that luxuriously silky golden hair spilling over her shoulders. He wanted to feel her soft, willing lips moving across his. He wanted to feel her full, firm breasts pressed gently against his chest and beneath his hands.

  Anticipation throbbed slowly, yet eagerly, through him.

  Seth blinked to clear the thought of her in his bedchamber from his mind. “Yes,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. “However, just to be sure, I went over everything with Heron before I came below stairs. He knows what to do in case you don’t find the time to read the lessons I planned.”

  “That settles it then,” she answered, pretending to sound a little miffed. “If I have instructions from you and Master Heron, I’m sure I’ll manage the day quite well.”

  Why did she question him on his teaching of the lads? He’d read from some book almost every day since he was five. Even during his scoundrel days when he and his friends raced their horses at midnight, when they fenced until they drew blood, and when women, cards, and brandy were the most important things in his life, he had always made time for his books.

  “What do you do when you’re not playing, Miss Prim? When you want to be serious?”

  “Serious?” She pretended to study over the word as if she wasn’t sure what it meant. “Let me see. I play the pianoforte.”

  “Ah.”

  “I stitch embroidery samples and knit.”

  “Mmm.”

  “I read, paint, and write poetry,” she finished with a wistful sigh and a shadow of a smile.

  “All very important, significant, and serious things to do.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin a fraction. “You are making fun of me, my lord.”

  His gaze swept up and down her beautiful face. Oh, yes, he was interested in her in a mighty way. “It was my turn, don’t you think?”

  “Perhaps.” Their gazes locked and held until she blinked and softly said, “I should admit that I did have a measure fun off you today.”

  “A full measure.”

  “You didn’t mind too terribly, did you?”

  “I didn’t mind at all, Miss Prim. I found my encounter with you refreshing.” And stimulating.

  And if they were alone right now, he would to pull her into his embrace and show her just how stimulated he was. But that would have to wait until a more opportune time.

  “The truth is, my lord, and you know this, it is that men are taught all the wonders the world has to offer. There are no limits or boundaries on what they can learn or accomplish while there’s very little offered for a young lady to be taught other than how to manage her home, care for her children, and be an obedient wife to her husband.”

  She was right, except for one point. Seth couldn’t imagine Miss Prim being obedient to anyone, least of all a husband, but he said, “Those things are lofty, gratifying goals, are they not?”

  “I suppose,” she said, but then added in a serious tone, “Would you think that if they were your only goals?”

  She made a good point.

  “Probably not.”

  He added the word wise to the growing list of things that he admired about Miss Prim.

  “Tell me, what would you do if you could do anything in the world? What would you study or learn?”

  Her eyes brightened again. “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps astronomy. I enjoy sitting out in the evenings when the weather is fair and looking at the stars in the night sky. Maybe I’d like to learn how a steam engine works or how to build a castle.”

  “All those things would require a lot of study to understand.”

  “I know, but I would be up to the task. If I were a man and given the opportunity. And perhaps I’d enjoy sailing the Seven Seas.”

  “The Seven Seas?” He chuckled. “The things you come up with amaze me, Miss Prim.”

  “Well, if not all the seas, maybe one or two of them at least. At least going somewhere on a ship. Mr. Nash made it sound so exciting to ride the ocean waves.”

  “That he did,” Seth said, but thought, as he heard Crispin announce it was time to go into dinner, that he couldn’t imagine anything more exciting than Miss Prim.

  Chapter 4

  “He’s a monster. Albeit a handsome, breath-stealing monster who kept my senses in a whirl of chaos whenever he was near, but one just the same,” Lillian mumbled to herself as a light knock sounded on her bedchamber door.

  For a startled, insane second she thought it might be the marquis. But sanity returned quickly. No one but her sister would knock on her door this time of night. Why would it even pop into her mind that it might be Lord Wythebury? Probably because she had envisioned kissing him when she’d met him earlier in the day and this evening too! And she didn’t imagine just a brief brushing-of-lips kiss as she’d allowed a gentleman or two, or three, to kiss her during the Season, but a long savoring kiss that seemed to never end.

  The knock sounded again. Lillian tossed aside the boldly written pages she was looking at, hopped off the bed and padded on bare feet across the cold wooden floor to the door. She opened it just enough to see Gwen. Sadly not the marquis. She wouldn’t be ravished tonight. Or even kissed.

  “I saw your light on. Do you mind if I come in?”

  “Of course not,” she said, stepping back so her sister could come inside. “What are you doing up at this time of night?”

  “I couldn’t sleep so I was on my way below stairs for milk, water, or maybe just a bite of bread.” She looked past Lillian to the sheets of vellum lying on the bed. “What are you doing?”

  Gwen walked over to the slipper chair where she always sat when she came into Lillian’s room. Grabbing the stool from her dressing table, Lillian moved it closer to the chair and plopped on top of it.

  “I’m fuming, thanks to the Lord Wythebury,” she groused.

  “Whatever for?”

  “I’m going over lessons I must teach to Fallon and Heron tomorrow.” She sighed and stared at her beautiful sister whose blue eyes and blonde hair were close to the color of her own. “You should see all the arithmetic problems Heron has to add and subtract, the words Fallon has to learn how to spell. Heavens be! He’s only five! Not to mention that no child should have to work this hard this close to Christmas. The marquis must be an ogre of the highest order.”

  Gwen gave her a skeptical smile.

  “Don’t give me that expression,” Lillian complained as she stomped over to the bed, picked up the pages, and thrust them at Gwen. Her sister took them and laid them on the table beside her without ever letting her gaze land on the top sheet.

  Her dismissal didn’t stop Lillian. “The amount of work the marquis gives those two boys to do in a single day is unreasonable.”

  “But you’ll get it done and you’ll have time to go outside with them as well, right?”

  “Yes, of course. I will see to it that we do both or die trying,” she said determinedly.

  “That’s the attitude to have, but I can see you’re upset by this.”

  “By him. I’m so glad Louisa allowed us to enjoy our childhood and didn’t give us so many study lessons to do that we languished under the weight of them.”

  “Don’t be so hard on the Lord Wythebury,” Gwen said, rubbing her slightly swollen stomach. “You know that boys are required to learn more than girls. Their responsibilities are much greater and more demanding as adults than ours. And remember, our older sister had four of us to worry about after our brother died and we had no governess. The marquis has only two wards. If Louisa had given all of us several pages of lessons a day, she wouldn’t have had time to check them all.”

  Lillian brushed her long plaited hair to the back of her shoulders. “I know, but you should have sided with me in this and not the marquis.”

  “I’m not siding with anyone,” Gwen argued good-naturedly. “I was only telling the truth o
f how things are. But tell me, aside from his heavy-handed lessons, what do you think about him?”

  “He’s rigid, much too serious, and probably the most handsome man on earth.”

  Gwen laughed.

  “You laugh, but it’s true,” Lillian said. “And I’m not finished yet. Lord Wythebury doesn’t seem to have a carefree bone in his body, and he doesn’t seem to enjoy any kind of adventure. He doesn’t want masters Heron and Fallon playing outside when it’s cold. He thinks they’ll get sick. They’ll get sick if they don’t get out of the house and get fresh air. Needless to say, we’re complete opposites in our thinking.”

  And for reasons she didn’t understand, and tried to suppress, she’d wanted Lord Wythebury to see her as a woman. She wanted him to cuddle her in his strong arms and hold her as if she were the most precious thing in the world to him while his cool moist lips moved over hers.

  “Oh,” Gwen said, adjusting the way she was sitting. “That’s too bad. I was hoping there might be a spark of something between—well, was there nothing to like about him other than he’s handsome?”

  “I suppose I could find a few more things to recommend him, if I tried. He doesn’t seem to have an explosive temper, so that is good. ”

  Gwen frowned. “How would you know that?”

  “Maybe because I hit him three times with snow balls and he never once yelled at me or even looked at me in a mean or angry fashion.”

  Gwen rose up straight in the chair. “Three times!”

  “I know, I know it was a dreadful thing for me to do. You don’t have to scold me. I’ve reprimanded myself more than once.”

  “Dreadful? Scold you? I think it was an amazing thing for you to do. Did he get you with a couple volleys too?”

  “No.”

  “Even better. Except that he was obviously trying to miss you. Which was the gentlemanly thing to do. You know his aim has to be better than yours. But I’m glad you showed him that you always play to win.”

  “I did show him that,” she admitted, but didn’t add it was a bit more complicated than a playful game. Changing the subject, she said, “I was going to ask in the morning, but since you’re here now, may I use the carriage tomorrow? I’d like to take Heron and Fallon on a ride through the woods in the afternoon while the snow’s still fresh.”

  “Of course it’s all right. I’ll arrange to have it ready.”

  Lillian gave her a wry grin. “Would you mind including refreshments for us?”

  “Lillian, you don’t even have to ask. What kind of outing would it be without hot chocolate?”

  “Thank you Gwen. You’re a good sister.”

  Gwen reached over and patted Lillian’s hand. “And don’t you forget it. I must say, you seem to be going to great lengths to impress the marquis on how well you can take care of children considering you don’t approve of how he teaches them.”

  “I’m not doing this to impress him,” she insisted, but wondered if perhaps there was a little truth in her sister’s words. Some, at least. Maybe more. “I don’t recall our mother, but I do remember Papa and Nathan, and our first Christmases without them. I’m doing this because I know how sad Fallon and Heron must feel at times after having lost their parents just last year. Although we sisters had each other, and one of us was always talking, squealing, crying, or laughing, the house had a certain loneliness to it at Christmastide.”

  “I remember that too,” Gwen said softly.

  “I want this visit to Hurst to be a happy occasion for those two boys and not just for their uncle.”

  “And it will be. You know, there’s a small, shallow pond on the north side of the estate. Why don’t you have the driver take you by it tomorrow and see if it has begun to freeze? If it has and the weather stays this cold for the next few days, maybe we can all go skating on Christmas Day.”

  “Oh, the boys would love that, but they probably didn’t bring any skates with them.”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem. Because Crispin has so many brothers and sisters, there are skates of all sizes here. I’m sure we can find a pair that will fit Lord Wythebury’s nephews well enough they can skate for a little while.”

  “We’ll definitely go by and see, but I don’t think you should be doing any ice skating in your condition. If I remember correctly, you aren’t very good on skates anyway.”

  “Neither are you, but I would only be watching. As you said, masters Fallon and Heron would love it. And, I think perhaps I should seat you beside the marquis tomorrow night for dinner?”

  Lillian looked at the stack of lessons on the table beside her sister.

  “You best not,” she said. “I may be tempted to throw a few peas at him.”

  Chapter 5

  “How quickly plans can change,” Seth mumbled to himself as he strode down the corridor toward Fallon and Heron’s room.

  It had been a cold but invigorating day. The pheasant had been plentiful, most of his shots accurate, and the conversations with Crispin and the other gentlemen in their hunting party had been a welcomed change from his daily routine of the past year. The entire day had been a good one, but the outing hadn’t been without constant remembrances of Miss Lillian Prim.

  More than once the outspoken miss had entered his mind to take control of his thoughts.

  Lillian. He liked her name. It was musical. Perhaps he’d start calling her Lillian. It was much preferable to Miss Prim. He had no doubt she was still an innocent, but there was nothing about her that was prim.

  Seth shook his head in wonder. He’d come to Hurst thinking to enjoy a perfectly fine and uneventful Christmastide at Crispin’s house until he met Lillian. The desire to have a woman in his bed was still great, only now, the golden-haired beauty, Lillian, was the only one he wanted. All other bachelor pursuits were a far-distant memory.

  Eager to hear about the lads’ day with the indomitable Miss Prim, he picked up his pace. Seth had his doubts whether the carefree miss had actually gotten Heron and Fallon to finish their studies before she gave in to their whining and allowed them outside to frolic. He smiled to himself. He’d tried to tell her how rowdy the lads could be at times.

  Seth knocked on the bedchamber door and then opened it. His nephews were dressed in their nightshirts, sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace. Heron’s light brown hair was neatly combed in place while Fallon’s darker hair looked as if it hadn’t seen a comb in days. Tabard probably didn’t have the patience to argue with the testy lad about the tidiness of his locks.

  Wood carvings of military soldiers, some painted to represent Napoleon’s army and others in red coats to represent the British, were spread between them. Men, horses, and cannons were strewn in a wide path across the rug. Some were standing while others had been overturned, indicating a fierce fight had been going on. Seth remembered Mr. Nash talking about the British Royal Navy and made a mental note to have some wooden ships and small boats carved for the boys to add to their display.

  The brothers looked up at him and in unison said, “Good evening, Uncle.”

  It didn’t appear as if anything horrible had befallen them while he was gone. He walked over to the low-burning fire, knelt down beside the lads, and appeared to study their battlefield.

  “Which of you is Wellington tonight?”

  Fallon pointed to his brother. “I’m Emperor Bonaparte again.”

  Seth turned to Heron. “I think you’re going to win.”

  Heron laughed. “The duke always wins.”

  “He always wants to be the duke,” Fallon muttered sadly while looking at the soldier he held in his small hand.

  “No I don’t,” Heron came right back at his younger sibling. “But I am the oldest and I get to choose first.”

  Seth ruffled Heron’s combed hair with his hand. “Tomorrow let your brother be Wellington. Now tell me, who won the other battle today? You two or Miss Prim?”

  Both lads looked at him with their big brown eyes as if they hadn’t understood a
word he’d said. He tried again. “So who won the snowball fight this afternoon?”

  “We didn’t have one,” Heron said.

  “Really?” Seth had imagined they would all have had a devil of a good time. The two boys running around on the snowy lawn, coats flapping open, and throwing balls of snow at the clever Miss Prim, who would be cleverly hiding behind a tree ready to pounce as soon as they ran past.

  But, as he had suspected might happen, it appeared she didn’t get their lessons finished in time for play. Seth smiled, feeling vindicated. Perhaps he’d gloat a little to Lillian when he went down to dinner. After all, she did hit him with a snowball three different times. He needed to do something to pay her back. But now that he thought about it, he’d really rather kiss her.

  “So you didn’t get your schoolwork finished and missed your outing,” he said to the boys. “I’m sorry about that. I know you were looking forward to it.”

  “We played,” Fallon said as he righted an overturned cannon. “But didn’t have a fight today.”

  “We finished our lessons, Uncle,” Heron added. “Then went for a ride in a carriage through the woods.”

  Fallon’s eyes widened and he rose up on his knees. “And Miss Prim found us each a long limb. We didn’t have to share.”

  “A limb?” Seth asked. “What for?”

  “So we could knock the snow off the low branches of trees as we rode underneath them.”

  Trying to talk over his brother, Heron used a louder voice and said, “The snow fell on top of us and we opened our mouths and tried to catch it with our tongues.”

  Both boys laughed.

  Seth chuckled too. He would have never thought of letting the boys do something as simple as that. So they had their time of play with Lillian and got their lessons done too? There would be no smirking in triumph from him tonight.

  “And when we stopped for a while,” Heron continued, “she let us roll down the hill before we had chocolate to warm us.”