On A Cold Christmas Eve

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On A Cold Christmas Eve Page 5

by Bethany M. Sefchick


  "I found a husband for the young woman, as my brother had only bedded her and nothing more." Adam closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them, the dark gaze now unreadable. "That situation I was able to fix, but this time, it is not so simple."

  Lucy swallowed hard, her earlier feeling of hope quickly disappearing. If even a duke could not solve this problem, how would she ever hope to on her own? "So I shall leave then. I have no other choice." She nodded in affirmation, not liking her decision but knowing that it was necessary. She would never see this man again, but that, too, was also for the best. He made her feel things, things she did not like, and if she were not careful, she would quickly become the whore her uncle had wanted her to become. Given the way the duke was looking at her at the moment, she knew it was unavoidable, even as she was shocked by the realization.

  "If you would be so kind as to tell me where the nearest coaching inn is, perhaps I can find a way to Bath. I have distant relatives there, and..." She was surprised when Adam put a finger to her lips to quiet her, a shot of awareness arcing between then.

  "There is another paper. One that I myself procured only last night." He reached into his pocket and withdrew the special license he'd obtained while she slept, thankful that Overlook Hill was not as far outside of town as some of his other estates, and that the archbishop was a good friend. "Archibald did mean to marry you, Lucy, and should he return, he could demand that you go away with him to Gretna Green. The contract with your uncle would allow it, even though I would fight to prevent it."

  "Then there is no hope?" She dared not look at the paper in the duke's hand, uncertain as to whether or not she wanted to know what it said.

  Shaking his head, Adam moved closer, and Lucy felt her breath hitch in her chest. "There is always hope, Lucy. Always. And I did promise that I would keep you safe, protect you from both my brother and your uncle."

  "How would you do this, my lord?" she asked, not quite understanding where he was going with this line of reasoning. "There are contracts, as you said." Her mind whirled. She did not dare to hope that he might ask her the most important question a woman should ever hope to hear from a man.

  Adam smiled then, the dark, ferocious smile that she'd seen a few times in the ballrooms of London. "I am the Duke of Enwright, after all. You will be surprised to find that there is much I can accomplish when I am properly motivated." Then he reached out and clasped her hands in his. "I am also unmarried, and, as a duchess, you would have the full weight of my protection. As my wife, you would be safe. He could not harm you. No one could, not even your uncle. I have the special license and a chapel here on my property. All you have to do is say yes." Then he sat back and waited, knowing his words would hit her soon enough.

  Swallowing hard, Lucy looked at him, her aqua eyes wide. "Are you truly asking me, my lord? Me? Miss Lucy Cavendish, to marry you?" In her wildest dreams, she had never once thought of this being the solution to her problem. Mistress, yes, but wife? Certainly not.

  "Yes, Lucy." Adam took a deep breath, ready to change his life forever because of his brother's idiocy and greed. That he was becoming increasingly attracted to her was beside the point and it did not signify. Honor and duty were paramount. There would be consequences for what had transpired between Archibald and James, but this innocent woman would not be the one to bear them. "I am asking you to be my wife. So? Will you?" And then he waited, not at all certain of her answer.

  Later that night as Lucy watched the modiste leave, she wondered if she'd made the right decision in accepting Adam's proposal. It was, of course, the only decision she could have made, at least if she wanted to stay out of the London gutters. Still, it was all happening so fast and she was in no way prepared to be a duchess.

  She didn't even want to contemplate what being an actual wife would entail. With another man, she might have been able to handle the wifely duties expected of her, but with Adam? She wasn't certain that she could conceal her growing attraction to him for very long. If he found out, well, he'd made it clear he hadn't wanted a wife, ever, so she wasn't certain what he would do.

  "Are you well? I know this has been a difficult, and perhaps trying day for you," a gentle yet firm voice asked from the hallway, and Lucy turned to see Amelia, Adam's sister there.

  Lucy had ceased to think of Adam as just "the duke" at some point, though she wasn't quite certain when the change had occurred. Earlier, when the modiste had been here for the fittings, Lucy had learned that Amelia and Adam were twins, not that she couldn't see the resemblance for herself. And sisters, Lucy had long ago learned, were typically very protective of their brothers. Perhaps she didn't approve of the match, though Lucy hoped that wasn't the case.

  Nodding, Lucy rose from the dressing table in her new bedroom, not wanting to appear rude, though she was alarmed to find that she was shaking a bit, her hands quivering with a touch of fear. She'd been moved to this room after accepting Adam's proposal, which, she'd quickly discovered came with many trappings, including a visit from the modiste, Madame Delphie, who was on a rare trip outside of London to visit a nearby estate. It hadn't taken much to convince the seamstress to return to town by way of Overlook Hill, especially when such a lucrative contract was dangled before her.

  After making the announcement of his impending nuptials to his staff, Adam had tucked himself away in his study, instructing Amelia and Elsie to being making preparations for the wedding the next day. That had included Elsie modifying a few of Amelia's old gowns, one of which was the emerald confection that Lucy still wore from earlier in the day.

  "This is all so new to me. I am not certain that I am ready, even though I know that this is the best way," Lucy sighed as she ushered Amelia to a nearby chair and rang for some tea, deciding that honesty was the best course of action. Dinner was not being served that night, and instead a light repast had been laid out in the formal dining room, as the estate's staff was busy trying to prepare for the rather rushed wedding, including a wedding breakfast. Not that Lucy would have felt like eating much anyway.

  As Amelia poured the tea that had arrived almost immediately, she looked pointedly at Lucy. "Are you truly that frightened? My brother is not an ogre, you know." Then she sat back and waited for an answer.

  "No, no," Lucy rushed to assure the other woman, not wanting to let on just how appealing she found Adam. Lucy had thought the duke handsome when she'd barely glimpsed him back in London but to have the full weight of his gaze on her left her unnerved. "That is not it at all. It is merely that I never assumed I'd marry anyone, let alone marry a duke. It is far above what I had ever dared to dream about."

  Amelia seemed to consider that for a moment, before giving Lucy a soft smile, seemingly giving her approval of both Lucy's answer and the idea that she and Adam would be wed. "I do understand, actually. It is not so strange a concept to those of us who are of a certain age when we marry. As I think you know, I was older and considerably on the shelf before I married. So when Fitz offered for me, I was struck quite dumb actually." Setting her teacup back down, she turned to face Lucy more directly, her gaze now somber. "How much do you know of our family?"

  "Very little, actually," Lucy admitted with a sigh, not wanting to confess her ignorance but unable to hide it, either. "I was raised in India, which is no great secret." When Amelia nodded, Lucy continued. "When I returned, I was barred from society most of the time. When I was required to attend an event, there were only a limited number of other young ladies that I was permitted to talk to, and almost no men." She twisted a lace handkerchief in her hands. "For me, that was strange. In India, the rules were more relaxed, and I often conversed quite freely with men. I know I am no longer there, but sometimes, those habits are most difficult to break."

  Waving a hand around the room, Lucy tried her best to make Amelia understand her fears. "I do not fit into this world, not as I should. I am trying, but even I know that I lack much of what would be required of a duchess." She didn't want to mention that Adam
was far too good, too noble and titled, for a woman like her. That, Lucy thought, was probably already very evident. There was no need to state the obvious.

  The other woman reached out and patted Lucy's hand, surprising her. "You told Adam you were a misfit." Then it was Lucy's turn to nod in agreement. Could Amelia not see that for herself? "Do you know that my brother and I are so-called misfits, as well?"

  "You?" Lucy gasped in disbelief, not quite believing what she was hearing. "Surely not!" The woman before her was poised and confident, a mother and a wife. She was the kind of woman Lucy aspired to be, the kind of woman the ton adored, a true diamond of the first water.

  Settling back more comfortably in the chair, Amelia picked up a teacake and nibbled on it thoughtfully. "Adam and I share the same mother, obviously. She was Italian and Catholic, two things that are greatly looked down upon by the ton. When she died young, our father married a proper English lass." Putting the cake down, Amelia leaned forward to take Lucy's hands in her own. "That woman was Archibald's mother, and she favored him over us, including when we were out in society. Had she been able to manage it, she would have found a way for Archibald to move ahead of Adam as next in line for the dukedom."

  "And your father?" Lucy was beginning to suspect this family's life was as tangled as her own. For some reason, that gave her heart a little more hope that she wouldn't fail Adam.

  "He would have given his second wife anything she wanted," Amelia confessed sadly, as if it pained her to say the words, "but that he could not give her. It created great animosity between Archibald and the two of us. Our brother has always seen himself as better than we are because of what he referred to as our tainted blood."

  Lucy snorted, her disgust evident. "I am well familiar with that term." If she never heard it again, it would be too soon.

  Amelia gave her a sly smile. "I thought you might be. That taint made it difficult for me to find a husband. For Adam, while he would never suffer the cut direct, it has caused many tales to be told about him. His temper, his sexual tastes, and what not. Do not think that just because he is my brother than I am unaware of the tales people tell about him."

  "I had heard those same things in the few drawing room parties I was able to attend," Lucy confessed, liking Amelia more and more by the minute, "though I never believed them." She was not about to tell Adam's sister that she had actually heard a great deal more about his bedroom preferences than she suspected even Amelia was aware.

  "Why not?" There was a look in Amelia's eyes that Lucy couldn't interpret, nor did she even want to try. What was the use? There was no reason to hide anything from this woman who was quickly becoming a friend, someone she hoped she could trust. What Lucy felt for Adam would be common knowledge eventually, and if Amelia knew, well, there was little help for it, not that she suspected it would matter all that much.

  Reaching for more tea, Lucy sat back as well, freeing herself from Amelia's grasp. "Similar stories were told about me. Men said that I was a loose woman, and other women claimed that I was reckless and angry. I knew those things were not true, and, while I did not know about your mother, I also came to suspect that those things were not true of Adam either. He is not that type. He is too good of a man at heart for those things to be true."

  Adam. It felt so strange to use his Christian name, but, as they were being married tomorrow, Lucy knew she needed to grow accustomed to it. She would start her new life, become the Duchess of Enwright. There were other issues to be dealt with, she knew, such as the sleeping arrangements, and there was no doubt that, at some point, Adam would want children, which would require bedding her. That, however, was for tomorrow, not tonight. She would think of that later.

  Even now, the idea of lying with Adam made Lucy's heart jump and a funny tingle begin in her stomach. He was so handsome and perfect, and she was, well, not deformed but not pretty either. She was also under no illusion that Adam loved her. He was doing this to protect her, and, partly, because he was convinced that no other woman would have him, which Lucy knew was sheer idiocy. There were plenty of woman in the ton who would give anything to warm Adam's bed. Whether or not they could look the Devil Duke in the eye while doing so was another matter.

  When Lucy realized that Amelia hadn't said anything, she continued. "Sorry. I was wool gathering." She prayed that she wasn't blushing too much, not wanting Amelia to know where her thoughts had been. "Adam's eyes were kind, more so than any man I'd ever met, even in India, very tinged with pain. I felt a similar pain myself and knew that it was doubtful that he was the cruel, morally corrupt creature they described. He just simply could not be. I knew it in my heart."

  "So you do not even find him the least bit attractive, at least physically? You were not attracted to his hair or his eyes or his body, as other women were before you? It was his pain that truly captured your interest?" There was a hint of mirth in Amelia's smile, much to Lucy's surprise. "You would find it a hardship to lie with one such as him, then?"

  Lucy was so shocked that she nearly spit out her tea. "I did not say that! Adam is the most handsome man I have ever seen and to be with him, well, any woman would count herself lucky!" Then, realizing what she'd just said, Lucy snapped her mouth shut before adding quietly. "Not that I am a wanton, but I am female, and he is rather pleasing to look at." Oh, Lord, how much did the other woman suspect. Far too much, unless Lucy missed her guess.

  That made Amelia chuckle, a rusty sound rather like Adam's laugh that indicated she did not indulge in the emotion frequently enough either. "I think you will fit in here just fine, Lucy. And it warms my heart to know that you are attracted to my brother. I would hate for him to marry someone who thinks him a beast." Then she rose and gave the other woman a quick hug. Another surprise on a day full of them. "I must return to the nursery and attend to my children now, but I did want to let you know that you are among friends now. Adam and I, as well as Fitz, will not allow any harm to befall you." Then she pulled back and grinned. "Not to mention that I think you will make an excellent duchess."

  Long after Amelia had gone, Lucy turned the other woman's words over and over in her mind. Did she truly belong here? She still wasn't certain, but she was also well aware that she had nowhere else to go.

  Then there was the little matter of what she'd told Amelia about her attraction to Adam. It wasn't a lie, but in two short days, she knew she had to be mad to even think she could love him. Desire him, certainly, but not love. Love didn't happen for people like her and certainly not with a man like Adam. No, this was lust and that was a term she was well familiar with.

  It was nothing more. It could not be. It was not logical or rational.

  Lucy knew that Adam made her heart speed up, and her body tingle. He made her want to be more, to be worthy of him, and, within the span of a day, he took up far more space in her mind than any man ever had, not that she had much experience in that regard. While she would never confuse any of that with love, it was more than many of the aristocracy had to build a life upon.

  Yet there was much more to Adam than just his physical attractiveness, perfect as that was.

  He was kind, not just to her but to his family and the servants as well. That sort of kindness was rare, a gift to be treasured and not squandered. He was thoughtful and considerate, as evidenced by the visit from the modiste, and he adored animals. He celebrated Christmas with cheer and was good and moral. He was also older than the silly fops she'd met at balls, and while certainly not past his prime, old enough that he should be thinking of the future.

  Lucy knew that she was older as well, having languished at her uncle's home in Mayfair for years. At her age, she was well on the shelf, but that didn't mean she'd ever completely stopped hoping, at least in secret, that one day a man might see some small speck of worth within her. If she didn't marry Adam, Lucy knew she would never marry, at least not unless it was to someone like Archibald who only wanted her fortune and would merely leave her to rot some place once he attained his goal
.

  She shivered at how close she had come to that kind of fate. Over the course of the day, she'd talked with many people, including Adam's men of business, telling them what she knew of the contracts, as well as what unentailed jewels her uncle had sold. That last items she had discussed with Harry Greer, the Bow Street Runner. Like everyone else she met, she'd found him charming and personable. In fact, there wasn't one person she'd met at Overlook Hill that she hadn't liked.

  Then again, she hadn't met Archibald St. Vincent, and she had a feeling she wouldn't care much for him at all.

  Chapter Four

  "There now. That wasn't so terrible, was it?" Adam was all smiles as he led his new bride into the grand dining room where a small wedding breakfast had been set up among the lush holiday greenery. He'd explained to Lucy earlier that because his mother had been from Italy, the Enwrights did things slightly differently at Overlook Hill than the rest of society did.

  That included several large evergreen trees that were propped up in the corners of numerous rooms, each one decorated with handcrafted baubles and featured candles for lights. Adam had told her that many in society considered the tradition horribly pagan, but his Italian mother had always had a tree, borrowing the concept from a German family that had lived near hers in Genoa.

  Now, as Lucy stood admiring the rather festive-looking tree, her arm linked with Adam's, she had to agree that the entire event, from the wedding to the breakfast, had gone much smoother than she had anticipated. "No, my lord..." she began but Adam held up a finger.

  "It's Adam now, remember? I am your husband, even if it is only of a few minutes." There was no real chastisement in his voice she was pleased to note, but rather a playful tone that she found she liked immensely.

  "Adam," she agreed, finally allowing herself to relax just a bit. For the first time since her father had died, Lucy felt a measure of safety and contentment. She was the Duchess of Enwright now, and that gave her protections she had not enjoyed in the past. "So what shall we do now?"

 

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