On A Cold Christmas Eve

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Clearly seeing her distress, Adam hushed her quickly, covering her hand with his. The gesture was intimate and made her shiver, though he didn't seem to be all that affected. "Miss Cavendish," he began and then took her hand fully, shocking her to her core with his casual yet sensual touch. "Lady Lucy, I swear to you that I had no idea what my brother was up to. When I learned that he was involved with sordid business, I raced to Fairhaven to intercept him. There was a mix-up in instructions, however, and you were indeed to have been met at the inn. Instead the man sent to fetch you ventured to my estate. It was there that I encountered him, a rather despicable fellow of the lowest order. This man was to take you to Gretna, where Archibald was waiting and then deliver you back to the house in Covent Garden."

  Surprising her again, he moved to sit on the bed beside her, his weight pushing the mattress down and causing her to shift towards him. While the heat from his body nearly scorched her, again, she didn't think he much noticed her at all. "My men in town are attempting to deal with both Archibald and Mac, the man involved in the sale, as well as sort out the mess of the contracts." He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, making her mind blank, and her body go numb. "Rest assured that I will not allow either of them to hurt you. You are safe with me, and no harm shall befall you. I swear."

  He swept a hand to indicate the maid still dozing in the chair. "You have been chaperoned at all times and everything that has been done while you've been ill has been extremely proper." He neglected to mention the carriage ride that had brought them here, thinking it best she not be made aware of that fact just yet. Heaven help them both if she ever remembered the way he cradled her in his arms, using the warmth of his body to ease the chill from hers. "You can be returned to your uncle in good health, as innocent as the day you left him."

  Lucy snorted then, unable to help herself, even though it was far from ladylike. "And that, I am certain, he will be glad of." She didn't even bother to conceal the derision in her voice.

  "So it is as I suspected then," Adam replied softly, his hand still stroking hers, his eyes filling with the kindness she remembered from the ballrooms. "Your uncle was complicit, at least to some degree, in my brother's mad scheme, even if he wasn't aware of the particulars. My men tried to ascertain the truth of it, and while we suspected that to be the case, we could not be certain of it. Your words, however, prove out our theory."

  With a sigh, Lucy sat up straighter in bed, accepting Adam's help when she couldn't quite manage on her own. Hang what was proper. She had just discovered that she'd almost been sold into prostitution, so she decided she could be forgiven for needing a comforting touch, even if it was from an unmarried man. "Lord Enwright, my uncle abandoned me at the Stuck Pig, stole my reticule with my meager savings and my few remaining jewels, and left me alone to fend for myself as best I could. I can assure you that he cares not a whit for my safety, let alone my virtue. I honestly think he would have been pleased had some evil befallen me at the inn." She paused and then looked him directly in the eye, something she was certain few women of his acquaintance ever did. "Do you think that a man who can sell his own niece into sexual service really gives a fig about her welfare?"

  "When you put it that way, no." There was no other answer Adam could give. She was right. They were all villains of the highest order, his brother chief among them. "Very well then. You shan't be returned to your uncle either. We shall think on another plan, but that can wait until later."

  She quirked an eyebrow at him, some of her old spunk returning, though she still felt extremely weak and tired. "It can?" She didn't know what she had expected when she'd awoken in this bed, but the conversation she'd just had with the duke was certainly not anywhere in her wildest imaginings.

  "Most certainly," he replied with a crisp nod, his earlier softness gone without warning, which she missed immediately. Now, he was all business, though she was pleased to note that he no longer looked at her with any suspicion. "My family is arriving as we speak for the annual Christmas celebration, one that will last well into Twelfth Night. My parents have long passed, but I do have an aunt who is scheduled to arrive shortly before the new year, and my sister, along with her husband and brood of children, are already ensconced in one of the guest wings. It will all be so very proper if you are a guest here for the season as well. In fact, I insist upon it."

  When Lucy didn't immediately respond to his offer, he softened again almost immediately, unable to help himself, the desire to protect this woman overpowering him. It came, he knew, from that dark, secret place inside of himself that he didn't wish to think about, the one that had lain dormant since his parents had died. "Miss Cavendish, it is because of my miserable family that you are in this situation. As head of the St. Vincent clan, it is my responsibility to make it right and to keep you safe until such time as we can formulate a plan to deal with the consequences of what Archibald has done."

  Lucy considered her options and found them to be sorely lacking. Truthfully, she knew she couldn't argue with that logic, not to mention that she truly didn't have another place to go. She also doubted that Adam St. Vincent would deprive her of meals and call her a hideous cow, even if she wasn't the most attractive woman in England, the way her uncle did every time they sat down to a meal. Despite the duke's reputation for being a devil, she could already tell from their brief encounter that he was far too noble and kind for such things. She had been right about that, at least.

  "Very well," she agreed softly, sinking back into the pillows, tired again and wanting nothing more than to sink back into the peaceful oblivion of sleep. "I accept. Thank you, my lord." Then she offered him a smile, just so that he would know she did indeed appreciate his kindness.

  He grinned at her again, and Lucy felt the heat of his smile all the way to her toes. That would not do. He was only doing his duty by her and nothing more. She would do well to remember that. "Excellent. I shall leave Fenster with you for company, as well as protection." He gestured to the large dog that was now lying on the floor waiting for his master's command. "He's an Irish Wolfhound, and a baby at heart. However, he is also fiercely loyal to me and will protect that which is mine. Have no fear, Lady Lucy. You are well safe with him."

  Then Adam whistled, three short sounds and Fenster leapt to attention. "Sit. Guard," Adam commanded, and the dog, surprisingly obeyed. It was nothing like anything Lucy had ever seen before, but before she could remark upon it, the duke was gone, striding out of the room, leaving her just a little dizzier than she had been before.

  As Adam closed the door to Lucy's room when he departed, he felt a familiar presence come up behind him. "How long have you been there, Amelia?" Amelia St. John, now Amelia Frost, also known as Lady Houghton, had been listening in on Adam's private conversations for as long as he could remember. Since they were twins, that was a very long time, indeed.

  She shrugged and adjusted her skirts, which bore a few stains that were near the bottom, leaving Adam to suspect she'd just come from the nursery where her two young sons were currently ensconced. "Long enough." If there was one woman on the planet that Adam could not bring to heel with merely a look, it was his sister. He no longer even tried and probably would not have done so were he even able. "So Archibald has done it again. You knew he would." There was a clear note of censure in her voice.

  "I had hoped he wouldn't," Adam replied with a sigh, knowing his sister was correct, as she frequently was. "The other chit was lucky. Archibald only bedded her. He didn't wed her, much as I wanted to force the issue."

  Waving her hand, Amelia dismissed the excuse with a sniff of disgust. "Yes, yes. And you were able to buy her a wealthy husband, one who didn't care about her deflowered state, and all was well." She snorted then, much like Lucy had, which made him smile despite himself. There was a strength to Lucy that he found refreshing.

  "You cannot keep cleaning up his messes and buying husbands as if they grew on trees. I can assure you, they do not!" At one and thirty, Amelia had
only married two years pervious, and only then after a lengthy pursuit by Fitzherbert Frost, the current Earl of Houghton. So husband hunting was something of a touchy subject for her.

  "That time," Adam reminded her gently, "there was no contract or special license. Not to mention that Archibald promised he would never do such a thing again." He sighed and leaned back against the wall. This was not how he had planned to spend the holiday season "Bloody bastard lied to me. Again."

  "He always lies to you," Amelia informed him tartly without a hint of sympathy in her tone. "This is not news to anyone but you. You are the only person on earth foolish enough to fall for his lies, and he knows it." She considered for a moment and then looked at him intently. "Though perhaps Lady Lucy's uncle is just as stupid." Then she shook her head, clearly dismissing the thought she'd just had. "No, he knew about the contract with Mac and Covent Garden. There is no way he could not."

  Nodding in agreement, Adam closed his eyes for a moment. Archibald would have to be dealt with, but not tonight. "I agree. However, at the moment, there is a more pressing issue. I have no idea what to do with Miss Cavendish. Somehow, I don't think I can buy another husband." He also didn't even want to contemplate where he might find a suitable candidate, one who would treat Lucy with the respect she deserved. No, she needed a very special man for a husband, and that ruled out a good many of his friends, if not all of them.

  "You could marry her."

  Amelia's words were so soft that Adam wasn't certain he'd heard her correctly. "Me? Marry Lady Lucy? Are you insane? Did childbirth addle your brains, woman?" He scoffed, trying to ignore the soft ping in his heart and the stirring in that same dark place that his softness towards her sprang from. "I am not ready. You know that."

  Though, he was, really, and had actually been considering seeking out a wife during the upcoming Season, though he saw no reason to inform his sister of his plans. In fact, he had only just decided at the end of the Little Season that it was time for him to start filling his nursery and getting on with the business of protecting the dukedom. He hadn't even told his man of business or Harry, who would have to vet the woman before Adam would even consider seriously courting her.

  "I'll not take offense to that remark about childbirth," Amelia snapped before softening her tone a bit, taking in her brother's nearly panicked state. "And yes, Adam, you are ready. I think you know it as well. It is past time you began filling a nursery, and you well know it. You have already admitted on several occasions that it's unlikely you will ever make a love match, especially with a town full of chits who are terrified of you and whom you despise in return." She glanced at the closed door. "Lady Lucy, on the other hand, has seen the rougher side of life, I suspect, even though she is a lady. There is a look in her eyes that I see reflected in yours, Adam. You are alike in so many ways that I do believe you would suit."

  "She knows nothing of me or of men," he replied, remembering the way Lucy had stiffened at his touch. He also tried not to think about how soft her hand had felt in his or how good she smelled. He hadn't been that close to a woman who wasn't scrambling to be away from him or find a quick way to his fortune in a good long time.

  Amelia huffed in annoyance, clearly thinking that her brother was a fool. "She can be taught. All woman can." Then she regarded him thoughtfully, as if remembering something she'd seem. The damn busy body. "Though I do not think she fears men, nor, in particular, does she fear you. That is an excuse, one you conveniently thought up just now."

  Reaching out, she laid a hand on his arm. "Adam, Lucy met your eyes when she spoke. There was no fear in her, no simpering or quaking as if you meant her harm or wanted to devour her whole. No other woman has ever managed that." She took one of his hands in hers and clasped it firmly, a sure sign that she wanted him to listen. "You do not frighten her as you do the others."

  Pushing away from the wall and his sister, Adam began to walk away before turning back, his agitation obvious. "And that is all you think that I need for a happy marriage? For my wife not to fear me?"

  Shrugging again, Amelia leveled him with a gaze that had terrified the men of the ton for years. The duke wasn't the only St. Vincent to strike fear into the heart of society London. "It is a start, Devil Duke, and better than you could hope for otherwise, quite frankly. You are not the most kind looking of men on a good day, my darling brother, and you well know it. Not to mention that your reputation has run off any other woman who might have had you."

  "But marriage..." he tried again unable to form the words. Marriage to Lucy? He didn't want to think of it. Or at least him mind didn't. There was, however, another part of him that didn't think it would mind quite so much

  He was clearly weakening a bit, and it must have shown on his face, allowing Amelia to use that to her advantage. "What happens if Archibald comes back and claims her, Adam? If he marries her, even at Gretna, the other contract will be valid as well. She will be sold into the life of a whore, and you will be unable to stop it, at least not before she is horribly defiled. An earl's daughter, Adam! Is that what you want for her?" When he started to protest, she slashed at the air in front of her with her hand, her own tempter rising quickly. "Archibald needs to pay for his crime. I think we all agree on that. But life has already been far from kind to Lucy. She does not need to pay for yet another crime she had no part of."

  Amelia stalked towards Adam and poked in him the chest, the infamous St. Vincent temper coming out in full force. "And she will pay, and pay dearly, for a sin she did not commit. Is that what you would sentence her to? That kind of life where, if she is lucky, she will not die of the pox, or worse, within a year?"

  "I can't." It was the only defense Adam had. Because really, the idea of wedding and then bedding Lucy wasn't as awful as it should have been, as it had been with so many women before her. She might not have been considered classically beautiful or a diamond of the first water, but she was pretty in her own way and had a body that was far too appealing for him not to notice.

  "You can!" Amelia shot back in full temper now, her chest heaving with anger. "And you will. You can get a special license, and be married on the 'morrow should you so choose. You are the bloody Duke of Enwright, and she is your responsibility. In fact, I actually think that Lucy is too good for you, but I shall let the pass as you are my brother, and she needs protection." Amelia made an attempt to reign in her temper. "You helped to create this mess when you let Archibald free all those years ago. Do not make that woman pay for what this family has done."

  Adam was silent for a moment, attempting to process everything his sister had just said. He didn't like the conclusions he was reaching. The decisions he was about to make would force him to feel, and feeling was something the Devil Duke never did. Not any more. However, he might no longer have a choice. "And you would have me pay for our brother's crime?" He was at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

  With one final shrug, Amelia glared at him and Adam knew he anger was only contained, not cooled. "Had you not let him get away with it the first time, there would not have been a second." With that, she flounced off down the hall, leaving Adam to stare after her, more conflicted than he'd been when the conversation had started.

  Chapter Three

  Squaring her shoulders, Lucy stepped out of her room and into the dimly lit hallway, the candlelight from a few wall sconces flickering softly, casting everything in a warm glow. Even thought it was mid-morning, the day was cloudy and not much light filtered through the large windows of Overlook Hill. This was her first expedition outside of her room since the night she'd been brought here via coach, and she was more than a little apprehensive. She'd spent the previous day in bed, and, other than the brief visit from Adam, she'd been rather alone, not to mention bored. That morning, Lucy had requested to be able to dress and go downstairs for breakfast, but soon after, a note had arrived, along with a breakfast tray and a maid, requesting that she remain abed until a doctor could assess her health. Lucy had - grudgi
ngly - done as asked, but as soon as the physician had left, pronouncing her more or less fit though severely underweight, she'd leapt out of bed and used the bell pull to summon a maid to help her dress.

  Dressing, much to her chagrin, had been another adventure in and of itself, especially when the maid, Elsie, had appeared with a fresh gown Lucy had never seen before, a garment far more sumptuous than anything she had ever worn in her entire life. She'd protested, but Elsie had insisted that the duke had requested she be given new gowns, though where he had produced this one from, Lucy had no idea. Part of her really didn't want to know, either, especially if it had belonged to a former mistress. Then again, Lucy reflected that she had considered offering to become Adam's mistress once already, so she supposed she shouldn't be all that disquieted by the idea of wearing a fallen woman's garments.

  Still, the idea of the duke with another woman didn't sit right with her, though she passed it off as being nothing more than a lingering sentiment after his kindness to her the day before. That was all it could be. She would be foolish to think otherwise.

  Now, clothed in the lush, emerald green garment, one that, she had to admit complimented her coloring rather well, she felt ready to face whatever fate was about to befall her, though she doubted that it would be as cruel as what her uncle and Archibald had planned. Lucy was under no illusion that she would be allowed to remain at Overlook Hill, no matter how generous Adam St. Vincent was. He would do his duty by her, however, which was more than her uncle had, but, in the end, she would be on her own. He would not wish to keep someone like her around, someone who did not completely fit in with society and who would forever be a source of question and embarrassment for him. Nor would it even be proper. It would be best, she thought, to have that conversation now rather than later when the entire family was involved in Christmastide activities. That would only cause more embarrassment, something she did not wish on the man who had rescued her.