Christine laughed, and her heart instantly felt lighter. “I promise I’ll not venture downstairs. There. Satisfied?”
A gleam in his eyes, he shook his head. “Far from it, but it’s a start.”
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen − A Brother's Advice
Although Christine had not accepted his proposal, she had not declined it, either…at least, not in the strictest sense, and so Wesley found himself sitting across from her at the breakfast table the next morning with a hopeful heart.
And yet, despite every encouragement he had whispered to himself in the dark of night, the early morning light brought back all the doubts and confusion that he couldn’t seem to banish. Where would they go from there? Especially now, that their charade was over.
No matter what the future held for William and Catherine, Wesley would soon return to his townhouse and Christine, he presumed, would return to her parents’ house. Soon, their ways would part. What then? What would she do? Would she…?
Wesley gritted his teeth as he eyed Christine, who seemed to have shaken off the previous night without difficulty. In that moment, he envied her ability to recover from whatever plagued her in a matter of hours.
Even though last night she had seemed on the brink of tears, afraid to admit that she did in fact care for him, this morning found her smiling, her eyes aglow with delight as she glanced at him. Was she enjoying the tortured expression that undoubtedly shone on his face? Was she only biding her time until he would finally give in?
Would he?
Hanging his head, Wesley couldn’t be certain. If she made good on her threat, would he ultimately accept her proposal in order to ensure that no one else received an invitation into her bed?
By the time his brother and Catherine finally came down to breakfast, Wesley was no closer to an answer. To his delight, though, one look at the smiling couple, who couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other, told them that he had been right. William loved Catherine, and no matter how hurt he had been by their charade, he had had no choice but to forgive her.
If only Wesley could be certain that Christine loved him! There had been signs, and yet, he was far from certain. Was that how Catherine had felt with regard to her husband’s love? If it was, he felt for her even more than before for this was pure agony!
After breakfast, while the ladies once more discussed the Christmas Ball, William approached his brother. “Since I don’t remember, I need to ask.” He glanced at Christine. “Has there ever been anything between the two of you?”
Wesley cleared his throat. Apparently, his brother could read him as well as Wesley had read William’s feelings for Catherine.
“When I thought she was my wife,” his brother continued, “I would occasionally come upon the two of you and wonder why I didn’t feel jealous because considering the way you looked at each other, any husband should.” A compassionate look in his eyes, his brother leaned closer. “If you care for her, then fight for her.”
Feeling exhausted, Wesley shook his head. “She is determined not to marry.”
“Maybe,” William said, an encouraging smile on his face. “But look at me, there is nothing that is not possible where love is concerned.”
Wesley nodded. If only he knew if she loved him. However, he didn’t dare ask, afraid the answer would shatter him.
And so he kept his distance, hoping and wondering, but ultimately realising that there was very little if anything at all that he could do. If she was determined not to marry, then there was no future for the two of them.
Although he had known that both of them would leave Harrington Park soon, Wesley was stunned to come downstairs a few days after the Christmas Ball and find her luggage in the hall.
Pulling on her coat, Christine smiled at her sister, then hugged her fiercely, whispering something in her ear.
The hint of tears stood in Catherine’s eyes, and she blinked rapidly as she returned her sister’s embrace.
“She decided to return to London,” William said, coming to stand beside his brother.
As his heart thudded painfully in his chest, Wesley gritted his teeth. “Why?” he almost growled as the meaning of her departure hit him with full force.
William shrugged, his eyes carefully watching Wesley’s face. “She said she wanted to give us space to reacquaint ourselves with each other.”
Feeling his brother’s watchful gaze on him, Wesley swallowed. “Well, I suppose she’s right.” He forced his eyes from Christine and turned to face his brother. “Maybe I should head back to Town as well.”
A slow smile came to William’s face. “Are you going after her?”
“No.” Shaking his head, Wesley glanced at the woman who held his heart. “She’s made her feelings perfectly clear.”
William sighed. “Trust me. You will never forgive yourself if you give up now. Even if it seems hopeless, anyone could tell that she cares for you.”
Wesley’s head snapped up.
“Did you not know?” William asked, nodding his head, a smile on his face. “I suppose people are difficult to read when you’re personally involved, is that not so?”
Wesley nodded, wishing he could see what was right in front of him without his own fears and doubts clouding the image.
“You should at least bid her farewell,” his brother suggested before he walked over to his wife, drawing her aside.
Swallowing, Wesley did as suggested. He drew in a slow breath, forcing his features not to betray the turmoil that he felt inside as he approached the rather disinterested woman pulling on her gloves. “You’re leaving.”
Slowly, her head rose, and yet, another second passed before she met his eyes. “I am,” she confirmed, a slight quiver in her lip as she spoke. “There’s no point in prolonging the inevitable.”
Frowning, Wesley searched her face.
As she saw him looking, a big smile spread over her face, covering the sadness that rested in her dark green eyes. “It always saddens me to part ways with my sister,” she rushed to explain, “however, I suppose they need time alone right now. And I have to admit I long to return to London. After all, the new season is soon to start, and I have yet to choose a new wardrobe.”
A soft smile came to Wesley’s face as he realised the effort it took her to speak as cheerfully as she did, and although she blamed her emotions on bidding her sister goodbye, Wesley felt certain that at least part of the tears that threatened were meant for him. “Thank you for all you did,” he said, taking a step closer, his eyes holding hers. “William and Catherine are happy again, and although I hate to admit it, it wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for your…ludicrous plan.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Ludicrous plan?”
Ignoring her, Wesley smiled. “I’ll miss you,” he whispered, and her brows went up in surprise. “Without you, life will seem dull. How will I ever fill my days without being pressured into lending a hand with a variety of insane ideas?”
“Insane ideas?”
“Call on me,” Wesley said, “if you ever need help leading another couple to their happily-ever-after.”
Christine nodded. “I shall.” She took a slow breath. “Goodbye, Wes. It’s been a pleasure,” she whispered, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
Wesley smiled. “It has been indeed.”
Then she turned and stepped over the threshold into the cold winter air toward the waiting carriage that would take her back to London and away from him.
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen − A New Season
Only a fortnight into the new year with the Season just beginning, Christine found herself bored beyond all measure. Although assembling a new wardrobe had been mildly entertaining, it had still been overshadowed by a highly inconvenient sense of loss.
At every outing, be it a play, a ball or merely a stroll in the park, Christine did not primarily pay attention to those who attended, but instead markedly noted the one man who did not. W
as he still at Harrington Park? She wondered, unable to concentrate on the Earl of Carrington’s rather boring narration of his travels to the continent.
“On the voyage back, the ship was hit by a terrible storm,” he recounted, his eyes sparkling with triumph as though he had just returned from battle, “and for most of the night, it seemed as though it would not be able to withstand such forces.”
“Goodness,” Christine exclaimed as her eyes inconspicuously scanned the ballroom for anyone remotely interesting. “You must have been terrified.”
The earl shrugged. “I suppose I was a bit alarmed, but mostly for the delay it would cause with regard to our arrival in London. After all, I had commitments I did not wish to go back on.”
“What a marvellous tale,” Christine said, hoping she didn’t sound as bored as she was. “I’m certain my parents would long to hear it.” She gestured to the left where her parents stood, a glass of wine in their hands, observing their daughter with interest.
“Certainly,” the earl exclaimed and willingly followed her, greeting her parents with exuberant delight that had Mrs. Dansby look at her daughter with questioning eyes.
Seeing her mother’s line of thinking, Christine unobtrusively shook her head, and the glow in her mother’s eyes vanished. Even if the fate of the world hung in the balance, she would never agree to marry the Earl of Carrington of all people!
However, desperate to rid herself of him, Christine was more than willing to discuss her views on marriage with her disapproving mother yet again.
When both her parents’ as well as the earl’s attention was no longer directed at her, Christine quietly excused herself, voicing her desire for a refreshment. Strolling around the ballroom, hearing people laugh and chat, seeing couples dance and smile at each other, Christine could not help but remember the Christmas Ball. It had been a truly marvellous night, and as though her thoughts had conjured her, she turned a corner and came face to face with Eleanor.
Instantly, the young girl’s solemn face vanished, and a deep smile came to her lips as she stepped forward. “Christine!” she beamed. “How wonderful to see you here.”
Delighted to see Eleanor again, Christine greeted her, ignoring the girl’s mother, who eyed her with a hint of disapproval. Lord Stanhope, however, politely inclined his head to her.
“I am just as glad,” Christine replied honestly. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been quite bored. Come, tell me how you’ve been.” Drawing Eleanor away from her mother’s watchful eyes, Christine guided her toward the large window front. “How is Henry?” she whispered.
Eleanor’s eyes opened in alarm as she glanced over her shoulder at her mother. “I haven’t seen him since the Christmas Ball,” she admitted, sadness returning to her eyes. “Mother was quite put out when she saw us kiss.” A hint of remorse rang in Eleanor’s voice, and yet, her eyes sparkled with the memory of that night. “But I cannot regret what happened. It was like a dream. Thank you,” she said emphatically. “Thank you for making it happen. If it hadn’t been for you, we never even could have danced.”
“It was my pleasure,” Christine assured her before her voice became serious. “Is your mother still insisting on a suitable match?”
Eleanor nodded. “More so than ever. I do believe she suspects I might do something foolish, which is why she is ever watchful these days.”
Glancing over Eleanor’s shoulder, Christine found the girl’s mother following their every move. “I’m sorry to hear that. I suspect you have not found anyone to your liking.”
Sadly, Eleanor shook her head. “No one even compares to Henry.”
Christine nodded as the face of a certain gentleman drifted before her inner eye. “I know what you mean,” she mumbled deflatedly before calling herself to reason. “Life is what it is,” she spoke out vehemently, momentarily startling Eleanor. “We ought to be out on the dance floor, enjoying ourselves, not because we are in search of a husband but because it is better than standing here and wasting away.”
A hesitant smile on her face, Eleanor nodded. “Maybe you’re right.”
Christine squeezed her hand in encouragement, and before long, they both found themselves on the dance floor, willing away the loneliness that threatened to engulf them.
Smiling at each other from across the room here and there, the two women found barely an opportunity to speak again as they spent the remainder of the evening dancing with a variety of gentlemen. While Eleanor did her best to be cheerful, Christine could see the effort it took her to maintain the polite smile that rested on her face. Lady Stanhope, though, glowed with delight, probably counting the days until her daughter would be properly married.
“You seem distracted,” Viscount Eastwood observed, his sharp eyes trailing over her face.
Forcing her attention back to him, Christine smiled. “I apologise, my lord. I…well, I cannot explain without betraying someone’s confidence.”
To her surprise, he laughed, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Your friend seems quite miserable,” he observed as his eyes shifted to Eleanor, “despite her effort to appear cheerful.”
Glancing at her dance partner through narrowed eyes, Christine said, “I was being too obvious, was I not?”
He shrugged, a good-natured smile on his face. “You were quite discreet, I assure you. However, I possess the gift of observation. Few things escape my notice.”
“Is that so?” Christine asked, finding the young viscount unexpectedly entertaining. “What else have you observed?”
“You’re not looking for a husband,” he said without preamble, his eyes holding hers, waiting, observing.
Seeing no judgement on his face, Christine nodded. “You would be right to assume that.”
“Your parents, however, disagree with your outlook on this issue.”
Christine chuckled. “No great skill of observation is necessary to know that. I dare you to find parents who are delighted with their child’s wish to remain unmarried.”
Lord Eastwood laughed, a delighted twinkle in his startling blue eyes. “You are indeed correct. Maybe you will allow me to prove my skill to you in the future.”
Nodding her head in agreement, Christine spent most of the evening in the viscount’s company. He was a truly delightful man, who spoke his mind and who obviously shared her views with regard to marriage. Would he agree to her proposal? She wondered. Would she want him to?
Clearing her throat of the lump of embarrassment that had settled there, Christine pushed those thoughts away. Nothing had to be decided that very night. She would simply wait and see what happened. Maybe he was the very man who would help her forget about Wesley.
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen − Lady Rigsby's Proposal
Although he had all but wanted to run after Christine’s carriage as it slowly made its way down the drive of Harrington Park, Wesley had remained behind, forcing himself to prolong his stay at his family’s estate for as long as he could. January was already drawing to a close when he finally made his way to London.
Knowing that it would not serve him to shut himself away from society, Wesley reluctantly accepted an invitation to a ball. Would Christine be there? It was the only question on his mind as the carriage pulled to a stop outside the massive townhouse.
Climbing the steps, Wesley felt his heart hammering in his chest as anticipation threatened to squeeze the air from his lungs. Bright lights stung his eyes as he proceeded through the throng of people, craning his head without being too obvious, which, of course, was doomed to be a failed attempt.
As he ventured from room to room, Wesley’s heart began to slow for it seemed as though she was not among the attending guests. Just when he was about to reach for a glass of wine, he spotted her across the room, and his hand froze mid-air.
His throat closed up, and his knees almost buckled as he found the woman he…loved dancing with Lord Eastwood, one of London’s most notorious rakes.
Her eyes glowed as she lau
ghed at something Eastwood had said, his gaze running over her in a way that made Wesley’s stomach turn. Christine couldn’t possibly be aware of her dance partner’s reputation, could she?
A block of ice settled in Wesley’s stomach as he realised his mistake. Of course, she was aware of the man’s reputation. How could she not be? His reputation was in all likelihood the very reason she was dancing with him to begin with. After all, he would be the very man who would not hesitate to accept her proposal.
Eyes glued to the dancing couple, Wesley stood by the dance floor, forcing his stomach not to expel the food he’d eaten earlier.
When the music finally ended and Eastwood led Christine off the dance floor, their eyes met.
* * *
Her mind still buzzing with the dance and the music, Christine smiled at Lord Eastwood as he offered her his hand. “Would you care for a refreshment?” he asked, a smirk on his face. “I admit I quite long for one after such a strenuous activity.”
Nodding her head in agreement, Christine couldn’t help but notice how Lord Eastwood continually insinuated an intimate relationship between them. By now, there was not a doubt in her mind that he would accept her proposal should she choose to offer it.
As they ventured toward the refreshment table, Christine’s eyes swept the crowd as though out of habit until to her utter shock, she found a familiar pair of blue eyes staring back at her.
The realisation that after all this time he was here hit her like a punch in the belly, and she almost toppled over.
It had to have shown on her face for the pain that had rested in his eyes only a moment ago vanished, replaced by concern. Instantly, he started toward her, but then stopped himself, his eyes shifting to the man beside her.
A Lady’s Christmas Rake Page 41