A Cotillion Country Christmas

by Carolynn Carey

  And if anyone saw her…

  No one had. The servants were too busy to see the kitchen door open and shut. The huge room was alive with maids and footmen attempting to assemble the Christmas breakfast under the sharp eye and tongue of the cook. He stood sweating, his massive arms darkened by damp swirls of hair as he bent over the stove, already beginning preparations for dinner. The room was stifling with heat and smoke, pluming out from both the enormous fireplace and the stove.

  Caroline stepped into the shadows of the pantry, wondering how to cross the room without anyone seeing her.

  As she hesitated, she noticed the servants’ narrow, wooden stairway. She cast a final glance toward the preoccupied cook and his scurrying minions. The moment he turned back to the stove, she edged out of the pantry and slipped up the stairs.

  When she got to the first floor, she hesitated at the landing and poked her head through the door, listening. A man laughed. Her chest tightened. The rich chuckle was hauntingly familiar—and it wasn’t Lord Tarlton.

  Did he have other guests?

  Unsure, she hesitated and tried to bring the unknown man’s face, or name, to mind. Then she remembered the tall figure in the greatcoat, striding through the snow toward the Tarltons’ house. She had just slipped into the mouth of the alley running between the town houses when she saw him.

  He must have entered the front door at about the same time she entered the back. With relief, she realized she therefore had no reason to skulk about the servants’ stair. Once a male entered the house, the arrival of a woman no longer mattered.

  Caroline stepped forward, unsure of her reception but reassured by the presence of the male visitor. Lord Tarlton would not have the poor taste to make a scene in front of a guest.

  Nonetheless, her feet felt like blocks of ice dragging along the oak floor. Ahead of her, two men stood near the balustrade at the head of the grand stairway sweeping up from the entryway.

  Her heart thudded as she stepped closer, unsure of her reception. She examined the tall, slender form of Lord Tarlton, trying to gage his mood. With a faint shock she realized his high forehead had grown even higher during the last two years. In fact, his pale brown hair swept back from the center of his head like a mown field. In a few more years, he would be quite bald, except for the thin fringe fluttering in a half-moon around the back of his head.

  But he was still as slender as any young boy, although he looked almost sickly in comparison to his dark-haired friend. The tall stranger’s wide shoulders strained the material of his deep blue jacket. A deep sense of confidence and power radiated from him, casting Lord Tarlton into pale insignificance.

  Her blood thundered in her ears as she studied his smiling face. He seemed so familiar. Then she realized. He was Edward Masters, now grown into the shape of a man, even if he was still too young to be considered one. And he was barely out of college, too, if he had managed to attend long enough to be graduated.

  He had never been one for rules, she ruefully remembered, a half-grin settling on her face. Her pulse fluttered. Regardless of his behavior, he always had the power to bring a smile to her lips and make her heart pound faster.

  No wonder his chuckle sounded so familiar.

  She straightened and schooled herself to focus on more important matters. He had been the bane of her existence when they were children and unfortunately, neighbors. The young boy had tagged after her, playing tricks on her and generally making her life miserable. More so because he alone laughed at her dry remarks as if he understood them. Then he proceeded to turn her words to his advantage by making a joke that the others would actually understand. Leaving him with the reputation of being a sunny, happy child everyone loved and her with the reputation for being difficult and waspish.

  She had detested him, then. Particularly when she was ordered to watch over him because at sixteen, she was so much older and more responsible.

  The final incident in her guardianship of him remained as fresh in her mind as the day it happened. He had managed to entice her out on their pond in a small boat. She should have known better. Then, in the middle of the deepest part, he nearly drowned her by “accidentally” rocking the boat. After that, she decided she was the one who needed a guardian—from him.

  And then, as he grew older, there were all the times he tried to kiss her—far too expertly for such a young man. He obviously spent a great deal of time practicing on anyone he could get into his clutches.

  She should have remembered that Edward and Lord Tarlton were, inexplicably, friends. She almost went back to the kitchen.

  Naturally, as she hesitated, Edward was the first to notice her.

  “Miss Bartlett,” he said, turning in her direction. Pleasure warmed his eyes as he caught her gaze. “I was unaware you were here. Your sister must be pleased to have you as a guest for the holidays.”

  Caroline smiled in relief. Yes. Maybe her sister would be happy to see her. Perhaps they would finally realize she didn’t need their pity and the past would finally be forgotten.

  “I—” she said before she saw the expression of horror lining Lord Tarlton’s long face.

  “What are you doing here, Miss Bartlett?” Lord Tarlton’s skin grew ashen as he asked even more sharply, “When did you arrive?”

  After a meaningful glance at Caroline, Edward Masters—the Viscount Wexley—gazed with surprise at his host. “Weren’t you aware of her presence?”

  “I arrived just after Lord Wexley…” she replied, her voice trailing off.

  Lord Tarlton stared at her with a mixture of anger and something that looked suspiciously like fear in his eyes.

  “You were not announced,” Lord Tarlton said, his voice accusatory. His gaze drifted past her shoulder. “And why did you come from that direction—the servants’ stair?”

  “My cloak was wet with snow so I came through the kitchen.”

  Lord Tarlton’s hands fisted spasmodically. “The kitchen!”

  “And how is Lady Tarlton?” Edward asked, smoothly cutting off what promised to be the start of an uncomfortable discussion. “I’m sure Miss Bartlett is anxious to see her.”

  “Absolutely not!” The words exploded from Lord Tarlton. “My wife is…not feeling well,” he ended lamely, two spots of embarrassed color burning high on his cheekbones.

  “Perhaps I should visit her,” Caroline said.

  All she wanted to do was see Elizabeth and assure her that she wished her nothing but the best. Caroline never wanted to confront Lord Tarlton or create more enmity.

  However, Lord Tarlton was not ready to let her go. He gave her an icy stare and said, “The only reason you came through the kitchen was your hope to slip into the house unseen and bring us misfortune—”

  “My lord,” a maid interrupted. The pale, slim girl looked harried and tired. Her dark hair straggled out from under her cap and her apron hung askew. “It’s her ladyship. She’s doin’ poorly. We must send for the doctor. I think it’s her time.”

  “Send a footman. Now! Tell him to hurry.” Lord Tarlton’s face hardened as he thrust a shaking, accusing hand toward Caroline. “There! You see? This is what you hoped for!”

  “No!” Caroline said, appalled. “What is wrong with Elizabeth?”

  Her spirits shrank under a fresh burden of guilt. In the back of her mind, a small, trembling voice asked if Lord Tarlton was correct. Maybe that really was her intention when she flouted both her father and convention by sneaking out of the house at dawn and coming here.

  Part of her knew that she would most likely be the first person to enter the house. Certainly, she professed to be a modern woman who put no faith in such nonsensical superstitions but…what if she was wrong?

  Worse, what if, in her secret heart, she wanted to be wrong and cause her sister to suffer?

  Caroline could not deny the occasional angry, bitter thought at her sister’s betrayal. For a long moment, she doubted herself and her reasons for coming there.

  “Your presenc
e is sufficient to create this mischief,” Lord Tarlton replied, his voice hard.

  She swallowed to clear the choking feeling in her throat. In a quiet, firm voice she said, “No. That was not my intention. It’s Christmas. I have not seen Elizabeth for nearly two years. I wanted— I wanted her to know I bear her no malice—”

  “That is not how it appears,” Lord Tarlton said. “You came as early as possible to ensure you were the first to enter—”

  Edward chuckled, breaking the tension and waved his hand in a negligent manner. “Nonsense, Tarlton. Miss Bartlett waited until she saw me enter. It’s the only explanation for the timing. You know I was introduced long before she arrived. And she obviously delayed even further because she did not want to enter directly upon my heels and appear to be following me.”

  “I wasn’t following you,” Caroline said, not sure if Edward’s comments would help or not. She certainly did not want anyone thinking she spent her time trailing after Edward Masters throughout London.

  She was no longer required to nursemaid him and therefore had no reason for such an action. And in truth, she pitied any female who tried to look after him. He was impossible, as always.

  Edward smiled at her, rather like a satisfied cat with a mouse tail dangling from its mouth.

  Lord Tarlton’s frown eased slightly, exposing his exhaustion and a tension that came close to overwhelming his too-thin frame. “Then let’s hope you did, indeed, step over the threshold first, Lord Wexley. And for God’s sake, do not let my wife know.”

  “But…” Caroline stepped forward, hand outstretched. “I’d like to see her. If she’s unwell, perhaps I can assist her.”

  “Not unless you have experience as a midwife,” Lord Tarlton said. With that, he turned on his heel.

  “Wait! Elizabeth is having a child—now?” Caroline called after him. Is that what Father meant when he said Elizabeth was unwell? Why hadn’t anyone explained?

  Lord Tarlton paused and stared down at her, midway up the staircase. For one moment, she thought he would continue upward in silence.

  He let out a heavy sigh and his shoulders slumped slightly. “You didn’t even care enough about her to know she was with child? And you expect us to believe you came as early as possible on Christmas morning with nothing but good wishes?”

  After speaking those cold words softly, he turned back and trudged up the stairs.

  When Caroline moved to follow him—to explain—Edward stopped her with a warm hand on her wrist. She glanced up at him and shook him off belatedly, suddenly bashful. She felt too aware of him. He loomed above her, filling the surrounding space with heat.

  He had grown into a man since they last met. And changed. Hardened, somehow and gained a commanding presence that almost frightened her.

  She stepped back. “I didn’t know, truly.”

  “It’s been two years,” he said in a cool voice, as if implying even an idiot would have expected such an event after that length of time.

  “No one saw fit to tell me,” she said, feeling small. “I suppose they thought I would be upset.”

  He glanced away, his expression unrevealing. “And are you?”

  “Of course not! I’m glad for her—for them.”

  “And you didn’t arrive with even the slightest, malicious wish to wreak havoc upon their Christmas day?”

  “No. I would never do such a thing!”

  “Then why today?” His gray eyes glowed silver as probed her gaze with an astuteness that only served to increase her unease.

  “I didn’t get the chance to come before. And we are to leave for Lord Adair’s this morning. We’re to spend the next two weeks at Airdthorpe. After that…” She shrugged. “We’ll go to Papa’s country house until April. And another year will pass.”

  “While you and Elizabeth grow into strangers?”

  “Yes, and more distant than ever!” Her heart throbbed painfully as she studied him. Was that a glimmer of sympathy—understanding—in the depths of his eyes? “I— You don’t understand what it’s like.”

  “I see. So, are you here to be reunited with your sister—or in some misguided attempt to prove you no longer love Tarlton?” As she tried to organize a reply, he continued in a soft voice. “Or did you want to see him because you do still love him?”

  “I don’t love him!”

  One of his dark brows rose in disbelief. “You gazed at him as if he was your last chance for salvation.”

  “Nonsense. The light is bad, you clearly misunderstood.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yes.”

  “He would never have suited you,” he said with a certainty that grated on her raw nerves.

  “What do you mean?”

  He grinned and shook his head, mockingly. “No matter how besotted you are, you must have noticed—in a few more years he’ll be bald.”

  “I—” Caroline’s voice choked. She blushed and coughed before saying, “A man’s appearance—his hair—is unimportant. It’s his character that matters.” She almost flinched at the pompous tone of her words.

  He ran a hand through his thick, black curls before a slow, twisted smile curved his mouth. “He’d be relieved to hear your noble sentiments.”

  “What makes you think you won’t lose your hair when you grow up?”

  He leaned a little closer, towering over her. She barely breathed as his eyes roved over her face, lingering briefly on her mouth. “It may have escaped your notice but I’m quite grown already. And my father still has a thick head of hair.”

  “That’s a relief. I thought it was just thick heads that ran in your family,” she replied tartly, feeling flushed and nervous. He was so close, she almost put a hand out to press her palm against his broad chest. She could feel the warmth pulsing from him, filling the narrow space between them.

  Then, he laughed and took a step back, allowing her to take a deep, shaky breath.

  She had barely recovered her equanimity when Lord Tarlton returned, his face tight with worry. Catching sight of Caroline, he stopped.

  “You!” he said, fists clenched as if to prevent himself from reaching out and choking her. “Elizabeth is in labor—early—too early. This is your fault!”

  “I hardly think I’m responsible for her current condition,” Caroline murmured without thinking under her breath.

  Edward shot her a sidelong glance as he stifled an inappropriate chuckle.

  “It’s not funny,” Caroline whispered to him before stepping up a stair toward Lord Tarlton. “Is there anything I can do? May I see her?”

  “You’ve done enough, already. You no sooner set foot in this house than this happens, exactly as any reasonable person would have expected.”

  “Does she know I’m here?” Caroline asked, trying to keep her voice even despite her growing alarm and anger at his unreasonable blame. How could she be responsible for Elizabeth’s condition, past or present?

  “No, and she doesn’t need to know a female was the first to pass over the threshold on Christmas day. That was all that was required. We will be fortunate if both she and the baby survive.”

  Edward moved closer, smiling easily despite the tension tightening around them. “As I recall, I was the first to step over the threshold.” He waved a hand when Lord Tarlton’s jaw worked as if he were about to argue the point. “And I’m sure Lady Tarlton will be grateful for her sister’s presence. You and your wife must be relieved that Miss Bartlett has finally chosen to seek her sister’s forgiveness and offer her aid during such a difficult time.”

  Caroline bristled. Forgiveness? Unable to restrain herself, she stepped down and closer to him. Then she pressed her heel down on Edward’s toes.

  He undoubtedly felt the weight of her displeasure for he had exchanged his boots for borrowed leather shoes. But his calm expression never faltered. He did, however, shift ever so slightly and slide his foot back a few inches.

  Lord Tarlton grudgingly accepted his words and nodded sharply. “Indeed. I sh
ould…” His voice trailed off with uncertainty as he glanced at the staircase leading to the third floor. “I must break the news to Elizabeth. It is difficult at the moment.”

  “I would be honored if you would allow me to assist her,” Caroline said.

  “If the doctor permits it,” Lord Tarlton replied, his anger gone in the face of his very real concern for his wife. “As an unmarried woman, it is not entirely proper.” He caught her gaze.

  Caroline was surprised to see the hesitancy in his eyes. He really was worried about Elizabeth. Caroline could sense his helplessness and uncertainty over what course was best for his wife.

  Would she be relieved to see Caroline or would it only add to her suffering?

  Climbing a few stairs, Caroline reached out and tentatively touched his dark green sleeve. “Please, let me see her, at least for a while before the doctor comes. Let me distract her from what lies ahead.”

  “Very well,” Lord Tarlton said in a heavy voice. “But I hope it is the right thing and does not lead to further disaster.”

  Caroline caught Edward’s gleaming eyes and gave him a curt nod, thankful he did not add more fuel to the low-burning fire. All she wanted to do was to see her sister and prove—once and for all—that they could put the past behind them and look forward joyfully to a new year.

  If only everyone would forget.

  Chapter Three

  Caroline followed Lord Tarlton up the stairs in silence, mentally running through various greetings. Every phrase sounded trite and inane to her—hopelessly ridiculous. Her hands trembled and suddenly she wished she hadn’t come after all.

  She stood back as Lord Tarlton paused at a closed door. The hall around them was dark and filled with shadowy silence.

  “My love,” Lord Tarlton said as he opened the bedroom door. He took a step into the room and stood aside. “Are you awake?”

  A low, tremulous voice greeted him, “Yes. Is the doctor here?”

  “No, but you have another visitor.” He blocked the entry for a moment with his arm. He stared at Caroline, his face a confused blend of worry and anger. “Do not upset her,” he said in a low murmur.