His Mistletoe Wager

by Virginia Heath

  ‘Not at all, my lord. Lady Elizabeth is genuinely not at home on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, and not at home any other time.’

  This clearly called for a different tactic. ‘Can I ask what your name is?’

  ‘You can, my lord. I am Stevens, his lordship’s butler.’

  ‘You are a vexing fellow, Stevens.’

  ‘I do try, my lord.’

  Hal dipped his hand into his pocket and fished out the silver crown he always kept there for emergencies. Covertly, beneath the enormous bouquet he held, Hal flashed the coin at the butler. ‘Be a good chap and tell Lady Elizabeth I am here to see her.’

  Stevens glanced down at the coin, scowled and promptly closed the door. Hal couldn’t help admiring him for it. He liked a man who could not be bribed, it said a great deal about his character. But not all men were as moral, so he wandered around to the mews instead.

  However, it soon became apparent that the Earl of Upminster had possibly the most moral staff in Mayfair. With his bribes increasing from a crown to a guinea to a colossal five pounds, he was similarly turned down by the stable boys, a footman and scullery maid who had been sent out to buy beeswax. In fact, their lips were sealed tighter than Stevens’s, who had at least informed Hal she was genuinely out and would be back this afternoon—although not for him.

  That left him with a bit of a quandary. He was too tenacious to give up, but too lazy to stand guard in the square until she came home. Living less than a sedate ten-minute walk away he did not have to. This afternoon suggested after midday and later this afternoon suggested after one. He would stand guard from one, bouquet in hand, and meet her when she arrived home. She could hardly tell him she was not at home when facing him, could she?

  * * *

  The Upminster carriage turned in to the square a little past two to Hal’s enormous relief. Over an hour of sentry duty in December had rendered his feet and fingers frozen solid, but the expensive flowers thankfully still looked impressive as he walked towards the holly-wreathed front door to greet her.

  However, the carriage did not slow and sped past him, its elusive occupant hidden from his view by the tightly drawn curtains, and turned down towards the mews. Hal quickly followed, rounding the corner just in time to see the impressively tall, wooden rear gates slam shut. Frustrated, he dashed back to the front door and knocked again.

  After an age, Stevens opened it.

  ‘I know she is at home Stevens, I just saw the carriage return. Kindly tell her I am here.’

  ‘Lady Elizabeth has been made aware of your presence, my lord, and of the fact you have been loitering outside for most of the day. She has asked me to convey a message and was most particular it was issued verbatim.’ For effect, he coughed gently, then scowled and bellowed, ‘Go away, Redbridge! You are as welcome as a dog with fleas.’

  ‘She said that?’

  ‘She did, my lord. And in that exact tone.’

  ‘Ah.’ Seeing as his only option was to try and overpower the butler, something which he was not entirely certain he could do and which would ruin the line of Hal’s coat significantly, he had no choice but to admit defeat. ‘Can you see that Lady Elizabeth gets these, Stevens.’ He thrust the flowers forward. ‘And as you are so good at delivering messages verbatim, would you kindly tell her exactly this. My tempting invitation still stands.’ He winked at the giant saucily and watched the big man’s eyes widen. ‘Please make sure you wink, Stevens, as that is part of the message, too. Good day to you. It has been a pleasure.’

  Chapter Four

  The following evening, within half an hour of their arrival at the Benfleet soirée, Lizzie’s resolve not to argue with her father lifted surprisingly swiftly and was soon replaced with raging, clawing anger. Because this time, her dear, meddling papa had gone too far.

  ‘I have taken the liberty of filling your dance card for you.’

  He had said this so blithely, in the midst of a crowd, which made calling him on it impossible. He had also made sure her partner for the next dance was stood right next to him as well, effectively trapping her because the calculated old politician knew full well she would rather not cause a scene. The ‘lucky’ gentleman, a slightly rotund fellow with no discernible chin, appeared terrified as he held out his hand, making it obvious to one and all he had been press-ganged into service and was there only on sufferance. She was tempted to feel sorry for him.

  With gritted teeth, she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, all the while shooting daggers at her father. Once this dance was done, they would be having words, and when those words were said she fully intended to go home.

  * * *

  However, being skilled in the art of diplomacy, her dear papa had already anticipated her intent and had successfully managed to render himself invisible. For over an hour she danced stiffly with man after man, trying to catch a glimpse of him, her mood deteriorating significantly every time he failed to materialise. To make matters worse, he had apparently found the dullest men in the whole of Christendom to saddle her with. All so crushingly safe and dependable they blended into the wallpaper. All depressingly in want of a wife with a substantial dowry. When the ancient Earl of Ockendon came to claim her, Lizzie pretended to need to visit the retiring room, fled on to the terrace and shivered behind a statue. Freezing to death was infinitely preferable to dancing with him.

  ‘Isn’t it a little cold to be stood out here without a shawl?’

  Lizzie spun around and saw the Earl of Redbridge lounging against the balustrade, smiling smugly and looking effortlessly gorgeous. ‘Where have you been!’ Instantly, she clamped her silly jaws shut. He did not need to know she had been frantically looking out for him.

  ‘Be still my beating heart. You sound astoundingly pleased to see me.’ His words grated. ‘In fairness,’ he said as he shrugged out of his coat, ‘I only arrived a few minutes ago. I saw you dancing with someone, looking more sullen than usual, and had been waiting for the opportune moment to rescue you because I am a charitable soul, by and large. But you disappeared out here at speed. At one point, I was certain you were going to break into a run.’ He solicitously placed the warm garment over her shivering shoulders. It smelled of him and, despite her better judgement, Lizzie snuggled into it gratefully. He might well be an irritant and a rake to boot, but his thoughtful gesture was kind and not at all what she would have expected from a man like him.

  ‘My father has filled my dance card and I blame you for it!’

  ‘How can I be to blame? I wasn’t even here.’

  ‘I chatted with you last night. Then you sent me flowers. It set a precedent and it has given him ideas. He has lined up every dullard from here to Land’s End, hoping I will take to one of them.’ She tried, and failed, not to notice the way the soft linen of his shirt clung to his upper arms or the way his waistcoat emphasised his broad chest and shoulders. He reached out and plucked the ribbon of her dance card from her wrist and scanned the names.

  ‘Good grief! What a shockingly dour bunch.’ To her consternation he then picked up her hand and gently threaded the ribbon back over it. His fingers were warm. Too warm. They were giving her skin ideas. ‘As I alluded cryptically to your charming butler yesterday, my offer still stands. I am prepared to lend myself to you as your decoy beau to ward off this sea of dullards if you agree to protect me from my ocean of eager hordes.’

  This must have been what Adam felt like when Eve offered him a bite of her apple and, curse him, his proposition was attractive. ‘I suppose...for the sake of a month of peace, I could pretend to be a little interested in you.’ Good gracious. Lizzie could not quite believe those words had just come out of her mouth, but thanks to her father, what other choice did she have? Her stubborn papa was vehemently determined to get her wed with unacceptable over-zealousness. She was heartily ashamed at being so weak-willed in the face of
such temptation. ‘But only on the strict understanding that it is all a sham and I would never really entertain you as a suitor.’ Of its own accord, one of her fingers was jabbing him pointedly in the chest. It was alarmingly solid. His reaction was to smile down at her, unoffended by her insult.

  ‘That’s the spirit. I hope you have a talent for acting because nobody will believe it if you continue to glare at me as if I am something offensive stuck to the bottom of your shoe.’

  Now that he came to mention it, her facial muscles were beginning to ache from the exertion of her frown. As they always did at these unwelcome social functions. Lizzie scrunched up her face to loosen them and then stared back at him blandly. ‘I do not wish to give my father false hope. I should prefer it if you appear more keen than me in his presence. That way, once I terminate our acquaintance he won’t be too upset.’

  ‘Agreed. I shall be a simpering, fawning lapdog in front of your father and an amorous suitor in front of your dullards.’

  She did not like the sound of that. ‘Not too amorous!’

  ‘My dear, you know nothing about the ways of men. When a young lady is being courted and appears uninterested, it means she is still fair game and only spurs the other fellows on. Men are a competitive bunch. It is in our nature. However, when the lady is obviously keen on another, they will retreat. As gentlemen, they are duty bound to do so. It’s in the gentleman’s code somewhere. Besides, nothing will cool their ardour quicker than the sight of you fawning over another man. We have our pride.’

  ‘My father has increased my dowry to make me more attractive.’ Pride and duty would hardly stop the greedy from coveting the money she came with.

  ‘Even more reason why you must encourage my amorous advances in front of them. I am disgustingly rich and, as I obviously do not need your money, they will assume we are in love.’ She stiffened then and her outraged reaction clearly amused him. ‘I understand your reluctance. Really, I do. You are frightened you might forget our arrangement is all a sham and genuinely fall in love with me. A perfectly understandable fear. I am irresistible, after all, and you are bound to develop romantic feelings.’

  The snort of laughter escaped before she could stop it, because he was amusing if nothing else and that knowing, rakish grin he perpetually sported did suit him. ‘There is no danger of that, my lord!’

  ‘Then tonight we shall begin our ruse and by the end of the evening we will be the source of much-fevered speculation.’

  Lizzie huffed as reality dawned. ‘Thanks to my over-zealous father, I am doomed to dance with a card full of dullards, unless I conveniently freeze to death first.’

  ‘Fear not, fair maiden, once we go back inside I will shamelessly monopolise you. You’ll be spared dancing with another dullard this evening and every evening henceforth. From this point on, the only man you will dance with is me.’

  ‘I thought I was to be spared another dullard.’ She frowned belligerently and he met it with another roguish smile. It tempted her to smile back. Almost.

  ‘Careful, Lizzie. If you are going to be mean to me I shall have my coat back.’

  Automatically, her frozen fingers clutched at the garment possessively. Even for December, it was particularly cold. The statue next to them positively glittered with frost. ‘I did not give you leave to call me Lizzie.’

  ‘Yet I have called you it anyway. As a special treat, you can call me Hal. Henry is far too formal, especially when a couple is as besotted as us.’

  ‘We are not besotted.’ The set-down had less impact with her teeth chattering together. Both his hands came up and began to briskly rub the warmth back into her arms through the fabric of his coat. She wanted to chastise him for his impertinence, but it did feel marvellous. Escaping into the icy night air had been foolhardy in sleeveless silk.

  ‘Heaven forbid! However, we must give off enough of the appearance of it if we are to be left alone. The ton loves to watch a blossoming love affair from afar. It makes it easier for them to gossip about it. If we orchestrate this charade correctly, we are guaranteed at least three yards of space at every function from now until Twelfth Night.’

  Something which sounded very tempting.

  ‘Where did you find roses in December.’

  ‘I know a fellow in Covent Garden who can get any bloom for a price. Roses, freesias, tulips, lilacs...’

  ‘I loathe lilacs. Be sure to never buy me those when you are pretending to court me.’

  ‘Understood. No lilacs. Not that I would have bought you lilacs, of course, they don’t suit you at all. The flowers in your bouquet were chosen specifically because they reminded me of you.’

  Lizzie pulled a face. ‘Don’t tell me—the cream roses symbolise my alabaster skin?’

  He grinned back, unoffended. ‘Indeed they did, while the tiny pink rosebuds echoed the beautiful sweetness of those luscious lips I ache to kiss.’

  ‘How clichéd. And the holly? Your joy at falling hopelessly in love with me at Christmas?’

  ‘Not at all. They are reminiscent of your charming personality. Sharp and prickly.’

  She liked the fact he was not trying to flatter her. Since Rainham, she had greatly distrusted it and found herself grinning at his cheek. ‘Lady Elizabeth?’ A voice called from the French doors. Her persistent dance partner had clearly tracked her down. The unladylike groan she gave made Hal laugh. Lizzie felt the intimate timbre all the way to her frozen toes.

  ‘Dear me...if my ears do not deceive me, I do believe the Earl of Ockendon is ready for his dance. Tell me, is his breath still rancid? Last time I got too close to him, I swear it singed my eyebrows.’

  ‘My father believes I need a safe, sensible man. Upright and above reproach.’

  ‘And to be that he needs to be hurtling towards seventy?’

  ‘I believe the Earl is fifty-something.’

  ‘Good gracious! The man must have had a very hard life.’

  ‘Lady Elizabeth? Are you out here?’ The voice was getting closer and instinctively Lizzie went to dart behind her statue again, only to find herself rooted to the spot by her companion’s surprisingly strong arms.

  ‘Hiding is not the answer. He will merely bide his time and hunt you down later. Everyone knows Ockendon is desperate for an heir. Lucky you, by the way. To be favoured with his attentions must be the pinnacle of every young lady’s romantic ambitions. You need to brazen it out.’

  ‘Surely you are not suggesting I grin and bear it!’ The thought of a few minutes twirling in the pungent wake of the man’s breath was already turning her stomach.

  ‘Of course not. Remember what I told you. We need to let him see dancing with you is futile...seeing as your heart is already engaged elsewhere. I do believe this is one of those occasions which warrants my amorous attentions.’

  Lizzie was nowhere near ready for that. There had been no time to prepare. Instinctively, she took a step back. ‘I don’t think so.’

  He quickly closed the distance and whispered again, far too close to her ear. Goose bumps covered her arms. ‘Think, Lizzie. Here we are. The stars are twinkling up above. You are wearing my coat...’ Those strong arms slowly snaked around her waist and pulled her closer. ‘If you gaze up at me with convincing longing, the old fool will assume we are having a tryst.’

  Arguing against his logic was prevented by the ominously close sound of another call from her unwelcome beau. ‘Lady Elizabeth! Is that you?’

  With the most limpid expression she could manage in a blind panic, Lizzie stared longingly up at Hal. He winked encouragingly, then, to her complete shock, dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers.

  The sky tilted. Or perhaps it was the floor. Either way, the experience knocked her off kilter. His arms tightened around her and his mouth moved slowly over hers. It might well have been a pretend kiss, done to give credence t
o the idea they were engaged in a tryst, but it felt dangerously real to Lizzie. She did not attempt to try and push him away, justifying her actions as a way of discouraging the persistent old Earl rather than enjoying the heady taste of the younger one who held her so possessively. Unconsciously, her own lips began to respond, her eyelids fluttered closed and she found herself rising on tiptoes to press her body against his. More worryingly, she was reluctant to prise herself away. Later, she knew, she would claim this was all part of her act, but for now she was prepared to acknowledge it for what it was.

  A revelation.

  Because kissing Hal was really, quite something. Not at all how she remembered it with her traitorous fiancé and dangerously addictive.

  * * *

  He was a scoundrel. A rogue. An opportunity had presented itself and, despite the nagging guilt he could not explain, he had seized it. Regardless of the circumstances, Hal’s reaction to the kiss was completely unexpected. Every kiss before this had always been merely a prelude. Pleasant, but not earth-shattering. A means to a more passionate and satisfying end. Lizzie’s lips were different. Almost as if they had been infused with something addictive, like opium or absinthe, because the moment they had touched his he had quite lost all sense of everything except her. It had nothing to do with passion or attraction, although undoubtedly he was overwhelmed by both of those emotions, and everything to do with a sense of rightness. They melted together, melded and, for once, a kiss was not merely a prelude but a significant event in its own right. Hal had no idea if Ockendon had seen them, if the man still stood there or if he was loudly expounding his outrage. Everything had disappeared except the woman in his arms. It was all strangely overwhelming.

  She broke the contact by taking one step smartly back and to his chagrin appeared decidedly underwhelmed by the whole episode. ‘I did not give you leave to kiss me.’

  ‘Yet I did it anyway.’ Feeling peculiarly shaky, Hal scanned the vicinity. ‘I thought it would convince the amorous Ockendon you were unavailable.’ Not strictly true. Yes, they had a bargain, but he had been thinking of his wager with Aaron—then had forgotten it instantly the second their mouths had touched.