Four under the Mistletoe: A MFMM Menage Romance (Christmas Billionaire Menage Series Book 2)

by Tia Siren

  ''Harriet, please stop. If you continue with this ridiculous idea, I am afraid I will have to terminate our friendship. I am embarrassed by the notion that your brother would be interested in me. He plainly will not be. Now I have work to do.''

  ''You are wrong, dear Isabella. I want you to go to the ball. It will be our secret, the Duke is to know nothing of it.''

  ''Please, do not do this. There isn't a man on this earth I respect more than the Duke. He has all the attributes any woman yearns for. He is handsome, polite, witty and charming. Do not make a fool of him by trying to marry him off to me.''

  ''You are in love with him, aren't you. I can tell by the way you speak of him. Splendid, that makes it all the easier. I know you two would be so happy together. It simply has to work.''

  ''Harriet please, you are causing me more pain than I can bear. I beg you, give up this idea.''

  ****

  ''Edith, how was your lunch? Where are the boys?'' Isabella asked her eldest charge.

  At seven years old, Edith was already an accomplished piano player, and fluent in French. Isabella took great pride in teaching Edith. She could see herself in the young girl. Edith was keen to learn but lacked confidence, just as Isabella had.

  ''Boys, hello,” Isabella’s said as they stomped into the room. “I have some lovely things for us to do this afternoon. Edith you are going to look at the subjunctive tense with me, and boys, I want you to draw. We will start with a drawing of your home.''

  ''I see you are busy, Isabella,'' the Duke said. He was standing in the doorway. She looked across at him and felt her heart rate increase.

  ''Yes, my Lord. I'm teaching Edith the subjunctive tense and the boys are drawing a picture of the castle. Can I be of help to you?'' Isabella tried not to stare at him but it was impossible. He was simply the most gorgeous man she had ever set her eyes upon. He was over six feet tall and broad in the shoulder. He had a presence that filled any room and made people take notice of him. When he looked at her with his emerald green eyes, he made her feel like a giggly little girl. She loved his dark hair and the way it flopped over every time he tilted his head.

  ''Can you please come to my study after Nanny has taken the children this evening? There is something I would like to talk to you about.''

  ''Yes, my Lord. I will come to you shortly after five,'' Isabella said nervously. What did he want with her? Did he know about the idiotic scheming of his sister? Had she upset one of the children? There was no way of knowing why he suddenly wanted to speak to her. She would have to wait.

  The afternoon passed more slowly than Isabella had ever thought possible. Eventually though, it was five o'clock and the children were taken into Nanny's capable hands.

  Isabella went to her room before she went to see the Duke. She wished to remove her chemisette and attend to her hair.

  ****

  ''Come in,'' the Duke shouted after Isabella had knocked on the polished mahogany door. The Duke's study was off the central entrance hall. As she opened the door, she was overcome with nerves.

  ''Ah, Isabella, thank you for coming to see me. Please sit down.''

  Isabella sat down in a comfortable arm chair and waited for him to speak. While he finished writing, she looked around. It was a splendid room. On the walls, were pictures of previous Dukes at work in the same room. The study was as big as a tennis court. On the left wall, there was a huge marble mantelpiece adorned with the finest porcelain dogs. The Duke was a keen shooter and since the death of his wife, he had surrounded himself with Spaniels. One of them was lying at his feet. His desk was of mahogany and filled with papers. Isabella loved the feel of the room. It was a place of contemplation and honest endeavor.

  ''Isabella,'' he began. ''My children adore you. They never talk about anybody else the way they talk about you. To them you are heaven sent.''

  ''Thank you, my Lord. It is most kind of you to say so.''

  ''I only wish they spoke of me in the same manner. I have also noted Edith's excellent progress. She really is the most splendid piano player. Thoroughly entertaining. It is you I have to thank for that.” The Duke paused. “But, and I say this with a huge amount of regret, I am disappointed in you.''

  His words slammed into her like a steam train. She found herself clutching her sweaty palms into the soft material of the chair.

  ''My Lord, I am most humbled, indeed shocked by your words. It has never been my intention to offend you in anyway. Please tell me how I have managed to do so, and I will correct myself immediately.''

  ''Are you good at being economical with the truth Isabella?''

  ''If you mean lying, my Lord, the answer is no. I never intentionally tell something which is not true.''

  ''Then why did you not tell me your father is at His Majesty's pleasure in Pentonville Prison?''

  Isabella swallowed. ''When I came to work here, my Lord, my father was not in that place.''

  ''Then prey tell me, what is he doing there now?''

  ''He has debts.'' Isabella felt herself trembling and on the verge of tears. ''My father entered into a business venture with someone of ill repute. That man stole money from the venture they were joined in. Since then, my father has been trying to honor those debts. The other man has run away. The debts were so great, my father has been unable to repay them fully. He has tried but he couldn't, and now he has been sent to prison.''

  ''Do you understand the seriousness of this situation Isabella? Prison carries a giant stigma. The fact that the father of the woman that teaches my children is incarcerated, reflects very badly on my children, me and this whole household.''

  Isabella could feel herself frown. ''I am sorry sir. I understand. Perhaps you will accept my resignation.''

  ''I will not accept your resignation. I want the best for my children, and that is you. However, I wanted to mention the matter to you. Please do not withhold any information about your father again. If there is a development in his case I want to know. I also want to know the sum of his debts.''

  ''Yes, of course, I will find out and inform you, as soon as I can.''

  ''Have you had word from your father while he has been locked up?''

  ''Yes, my Lord.''

  ''And how is he?''

  ''Thank you for your kind interest,” Isabella said. “I'm afraid things are not going well for him. He has bronchitis and the damp nature of the place is making it worse. I am terribly afraid for his health.''

  ''I will see what I can do about it. I know the Home Secretary. I’ll ask him to move your father to a more hospitable place.” The Duke glanced back down at his papers. “Thank you Isabella, that is all.''

  Isabella went to her room. As she lay on her bed and wiped away her tears, she wondered what on earth had possessed her not to tell the Duke about her father. Of course the Duke was right. It did reflect badly on him, the children and the household. She had been inconsiderate and she would try to make amends. The worst of it was, the Duke now had a low opinion of her. She would speak to Harriet and get her to drop the ludicrous idea of inviting her to the ball.

  She picked up 'Sense and Sensibility' and took comfort in Mr. Willoughby. It was July, and this day had been exceptionally warm. The room was stuffy. After a while she got up and opened the window. The window was huge, stretching from thigh level, right up to the ceiling. As she was pulling the lower half of the window up, she saw the Duke walking across the lawn. His dogs were busily running in and out of the flower beds looking for rabbits. To her horror, a young lady was walking next to the Duke, holding onto his arm. Isabella strained her eyes and tried to see if she knew the young lady, she didn't. Isabella spent the evening wondering who the woman was, and what interest the Duke had in her.

  ****

  ''Harriet,'' Isabella exclaimed as she saw her walking past the open door of the tutorial room. ''I need to speak to you.''

  Harriet stopped. They continued their conversation in the corridor, out of earshot of the children.

  ''What on
earth's the matter? The way you shouted my name, I thought the world was coming to an end,'' Harriet said.

  ''You can't do it.''

  ''Do what?''

  ''You can't invite me to the ball,'' Isabella whispered.

  ''Isabella, my dear friend, you will come to the ball. I insist on it.''

  ''I won't. I have decided. I spoke to your brother yesterday and I have upset him terribly. Your plan is scuppered. There is no chance the Duke will look at me now. Although he wouldn't have looked at me anyway. Your scheme was insane right from the start, and now I'm putting an end to it.''

  ''Do you mean you offended him, by not telling him your father is in prison?''

  ''Oh, heavens. You know as well. Please believe me, I am so sorry. I know I have offended your family, and the household. If I could change the situation I would.''

  ''Isabella, you are silly. I am not in the slightest worried for myself or the household.''

  ''But the Duke told me he was disappointed in me.''

  ''The Duke often says things he doesn't mean. He has to deal with lots of people every day. He's just made a mistake, that's all. When he sees you at the ball in front of him, he will fall head over heels in love with you. Trust me.''

  ''He is already in love with another woman.'' Isabella cringed at her careless remark. She had no idea who the woman on the Duke's arm had been, and she certainly couldn't ascertain whether they were in love or not.

  ''What are you talking about?''

  ''Yesterday evening, I saw your brother walking arm in arm with another woman.''

  ''Ah, yes. Lady Victoria. She's the daughter of Lord and Lady Somerset. Awfully rich and well to do. My brother seems to like her and she has been here a couple of times. But she isn't a patch on you. You will see, I am right. Now go back to the children and stop fretting.''

  ''I admire your confidence in me, I really do. But I will not go to the ball. I will not embarrass the Duke with my presence.''

  Isabella turned around and went back to the children. Their beaming faces made her feel better, but she was upset that Harriet seemed intent on putting her in an intolerable situation.

  ****

  Isabella changed into her best dress, a white muslin affair with a high neckline. The edges were adorned with Egyptian ornamentation. Isabella didn't particularly care for the ringlets that most women seemed to choose. She parted her dark hair in the middle and let it hang naturally.

  When she was ready, she descended the grand staircase and walked to the Duke's study. The door was open and she saw the Duke stroking one of his Spaniels.

  ''My Lord,'' she said softly so as not to shock him.

  ''Come in,'' he said, as his eyes fixed on her breasts. It was the first time he had seen her display any flesh, whatsoever. ''You wanted to see me? Harriet told me.''

  ''Yes, my Lord. I want to say thank you.''

  ''For what?''

  ''For having my father moved. I have had word from him, and he has told me his bronchitis is much improved. He is in a less hostile establishment in Norfolk. I believe the country air will be more sympathetic to his condition. Thank you very much for arranging it. I appreciate it more than you could ever know.''

  ''I am pleased he is improved.''

  ''One more thing, my Lord. You asked me to tell you the sum of my father’s debts.''

  ''Ah, yes. Just a minute, I'll write it down. Go ahead.''

  ''I am ashamed to mention the figure, my Lord. It is an astronomical amount.''

  ''Perhaps it is. However, you shouldn't let that prevent you from telling me.''

  ''Three thousand pounds.'' Isabella dropped her eyes to her lap in shame.

  ''That is indeed a vast sum. Not insurmountable but nonetheless a large sum. Thank you for telling me. How are the children coming along?''

  ''Very well my Lord. I have every faith in them. They will all have bright futures.''

  ''Tell me Isabella.” The Duke leant forward. “Please do not think me intrusive, but where is your mother while your father is in prison?''

  ''She passed away.''

  ''Of what?'' he asked, suddenly regretting it. ''I am sorry that was indelicate of me. It is none of my business.''

  ''I suppose it could be called poverty.''

  ''Do you mean she had nothing to eat?'' he asked, alarmed at the thought.

  ''My Lord. My father was in debt, the bailiffs took everything and they did indeed have precious little to eat. My mother was not strong physically and it was too much for her.''

  ''Was that before you came to work here?''

  ''My mother died a few months after I came here, my Lord.''

  ''What? And you didn't tell me?''

  ''No.''

  ''Why? You should have done. We are wealthy. Harriet and I could have helped you.''

  ''Sir, it was at a time just after your wife had passed away. It seemed indelicate to burden you with my problems.''

  ''Does nobody tell me anything, in my own home? Please tell me Isabella, am I an intimidating man?''

  Isabella was taken aback by his question. ''What exactly do you mean by intimidating?''

  ''Are people frightened of me? In other words, are people so scared of me, they won't confide in me?''

  ''My Lord it is not my place to …...''

  ''Nonsense. As governess to my children, I am sure you are well placed to answer my question.''

  Isabella had a sudden burst of courage. He wanted to know, she would tell him. ''Yes my Lord. You are an intimidating man. Sorry, I don't mean to use that word. Authoritarian would be a better word. You have an authoritarian air about you.'' When she looked at the Duke, she noticed her comments had hurt him.

  ''Do you mean that, Isabella? Is that how people view me?'' The Duke appeared so handsome with a look of concern across his face.

  ''Yes, my Lord, I am afraid they do.''

  ''And what do you propose I do about it? I would much prefer people to feel they can approach me and confide in me.''

  ''Perhaps it's because you lost your wife but you don't smile at people. A smile goes a long way. You appear distant and lacking in interest for others. I am sure you are none of those things. But if you smiled more often, I am sure you would find others more open to confiding in you.''

  ''Thank you, Isabella, for having the courage to tell me that.''

  ''It wasn't a question of courage my Lord. You asked me, I didn't offer the information openly.''

  ''But you could have lied, and told me I was perfect,'' he said, a chuckle passing his lips.

  ''That's what I mean, my Lord. Now you are smiling. You look so much more approachable.'' Dashing.

  ''I have decided to marry again,'' he said unexpectedly.

  Isabella was aghast. Was it Lady Victoria? Harriet hadn't indicated the Duke was close to marriage. On the contrary. ''That will be very good for you, my Lord. I am pleased you have reached that decision. May I ask who the lucky lady is?''

  ''I have no idea.''

  Isabella could breathe again. ''That is interesting. You have decided to marry again, but you don't know to whom?''

  ''No. I have no clue. My mind is open. All I know is my sister and I are holding a ball at which I will endeavor to find a bride. How do you think the children will react to having a new mother?''

  ''I think they will need some time to adjust. After that, if the lady in question is sensitive, I am sure they will be very happy.''

  ''Yes, I thought much the same. I wish to ask you one more thing Isabella.''

  ''Yes my Lord, please do.''

  ''Would you please help me to choose what I will wear to this ball? My sister has no taste for male clothing and I have nobody else to ask. I want to find someone with the same social standing as myself. It's got to be a Duchess or Baroness. If I dress like a pauper, I will end up with someone from a different background. Such marriages never work.''

  Isabella glanced down at her dress. ''Yes my Lord, I would be delighted to help you. If my Lord will excuse me now, I n
eed to lie down. It's been a hard day and terribly hot.''

  When Isabella closed the door to his study, she leaned against the wall and slowly sank down onto her haunches. So that's it. He wants a Duchess and he sees me as his valet, she thought. A large lump was developing in her throat and she felt the need to cry. She ran up to her room, slammed the door shut and banged her fists into the mattress. Her mood was not helped when she saw the Duke wandering over the lawn with Lady Victoria again.

  Just before she went to bed, Isabella prayed again. ''Dear Lord, please forgive my shortcomings and anything I have done today which may have displeased you. I would like to ask you to look over the Duke during this difficult time. Please guide him to make choices in his life that will make him happy now, and always. Thank you Lord that my father is now in a more comfortable place. Finally Lord, and I do not ask this lightly, please help me to rid myself of the incessant feelings of misguided love I feel at this time. I am tormented by intense waves of jealousy and envy, which are burning deep through my soul. Please guide me through the next days, that I may be stronger and free of pain. Amen.''

  ****

  ''Isabella, perfect timing,'' Harriet said as she saw her friend walking down the corridor. ''A week to go. We need to get you some clothes. On your day off, we will go to town and buy you the most splendid gown and shoes. Not to forget a masque.''

  ''Harriet, I will go to the ball as you requested, but not to woo the Duke into something he clearly doesn't want. Do you understand me?'

  ''The Duke doesn't know what he wants. Until we show him what a beautiful woman you are, how can he know?''

  Isabella was tired of Harriet's scheming, but she had decided to go along with it, that the whole business may be over with. She would go to the ball and the Duke would chose his bride. It would not be her. Harriet would give up her silly idea and then she could get on with her duties once again. She only hoped her prayers would be answered and that her feelings towards the Duke would change from ones of searing love and desire to the kind of love one has for a brother.