Tis the Season to Be Sinful

by Adrienne Basso

  Richard was puzzled by this odd sense of exhilaration he felt. What was it about this woman that charmed him so much? Was it the passion he sensed underlying the elegance and refinement of her manner? Or something else entirely?

  He was not adept at making small talk—especially with society women—and the lack of skill suddenly irked him. Richard clasped his hands behind his back and cleared his throat as an uncomfortable silence descended upon them.

  “Ready, Mr. Harper?” The land agent gazed at him expectantly from the carriage. “Or would you prefer to stay? I can have the coach return to bring you and Mr. Barclay into the village.”

  Richard seized the idea. It was his chance to be alone with Mrs. Wentworth. He would send Barclay into the house to tackle a very time-consuming task and then ask the lovely widow to show him the gardens.

  It was an excellent plan. That would have worked well. Except before he could put it into action, Mrs. Wentworth spoke.

  “I must be on my way home,” she said briskly. “My children require my attention and will be concerned that I have been away for so long.”

  “May we offer you a ride?” Richard asked.

  “Thank you, but I enjoy walking. I bid you good afternoon, gentlemen.”

  Richard inclined his head cordially, refusing to show any sign of disappointment at having his plans thwarted. His mood darkened as he watched her walk away, but it did not linger. Instead, he focused on the positive aspects of the afternoon.

  He had successfully purchased the estate he wanted, and in the process acquired a most attractive, beguiling neighbor. A lovely woman who might neatly solve another pressing dilemma—his need for a society wife.

  Chapter 3

  Juliet found that she was trembling a little by the time she returned to the dowager house. The tremors were not caused by the slight drop in temperature, she reasoned, but rather from a sense of shock at what she had just done—struck an agreement to sell her son’s legacy. To a shrewd, handsome businessman, no less.

  The delicious aroma of freshly baked meat pies filled Juliet’s nostrils as she slipped inside the kitchen door. The room was empty, however, and Juliet was glad, needing a bit more time to gather her thoughts before informing any of the servants about what she had done. Change was never easy to accept, and something as drastic as this was sure to rattle some of them.

  Of course, she fully intended to keep her small household staff with her at the dowager house, even increasing its size by one or two new members, now that she could afford it.

  I can afford it! A shiver of relief ran through her. Finally, she would have the security she so desperately craved for herself and her children. The boys would be able to attend a proper school; a kind, accomplished governess could be hired to care for and educate Lizzy.

  It would be heavenly to no longer be forced to count pennies so strictly, not to juggle paying the butcher one week and the grocer the next. To make clothes for the children that were not a size too big in order to ensure an extra year of wear, and buy shoes that were new and fitted properly on their feet.

  Juliet entered the dining room. Her sons looked up from the pages they were laboring over, greeting her with eager smiles.

  “Mrs. Wentworth!” The tutor swung around, giving her a decidedly quelling look. “Our lessons are not finished for today. We still have another hour, which could very easily become two, if James is unable to correctly answer his history questions.”

  What a little prig! Juliet’s eyes moved from James’s downtrodden face to the tutor’s smug expression. He was a petty man, who clearly enjoyed making his students feel inadequate. Well, all that was about to change.

  “Lessons are over for today, Mr. Bates,” Juliet declared sharply. “I need to speak with my sons. In private.”

  She emphasized the last word with a deliberately haughty chill. The tutor raised a brow in protest, but wisely chose not to argue. With an exaggerated bow, he left the room.

  Juliet turned to her sons, giving them a wobbly smile. Now that the moment was at hand, she was worried about their reaction. Edward was a sensitive soul, taking his role as the “man of the house” very seriously. He was also inordinately proud of his position as the elder son, the heir apparent to his father’s legacy.

  In contrast, James was eager to please and excited about everything. He would most likely take the news in stride, thinking it all a grand adventure.

  “I have important news that I wanted to share with you.” Juliet sat on the nearest dining room chair and the boys gathered close. “As you are aware, I have been hoping for some time now to lease the manor house. The funds are needed to run our own household and to provide for our future.

  “Until now, Mr. Fowler has been unable to locate a tenant; however, he did find a gentleman who was eager not to lease, but to purchase the house.” She took a deep breath. “There was much to discuss and negotiate, but in the end I knew it was best for all of us. So, I have agreed to it,” she concluded, doing her best to keep the nerves that were fluttering through her from entering her voice.

  “You sold the estate?” Edward repeated, his voice pitched high in surprise.

  Juliet nodded.

  “Did you get gobs of money for it?” James asked hopefully.

  “Yes,” Juliet responded, unable to keep the smile from her face. “But you should not ask people questions about money, James. ’Tis rude and ill mannered.”

  “Highgrove Manor belongs to me,” Edward interrupted indignantly. “It was Papa’s house and as the oldest son it is now my house.”

  Juliet’s face crumpled. “I know, dear, but honestly, there was nothing else to be done. We still have the dowager house, and when you are of age, that shall pass to you.”

  “The dowager house is a place for an old lady to live,” Edward protested.

  “Mama is not old,” James responded hotly.

  Juliet reached out to block Edward’s fist from connecting with James’s shoulder. In general the boys got on well together, but she had noticed that lately disagreements between them were being resolved in a physical manner. Having raised four sons of her own, Mrs. Perkins assured Juliet that it was perfectly normal, but she still found it somewhat disturbing.

  “I understand that you are disappointed, Edward. I am, too. But with Papa gone, we cannot afford to maintain the manor.” Juliet gazed at her elder son. The hurt and bewilderment on his face increased, and her heart sank further. Better to cut off her right arm than to see any of her children suffer.

  Edward’s features grew pensive. “A proper gentleman must have a proper home,” he said quietly. “Where will I live when I am older?”

  “You’ll have to marry an heiress to get a proper home,” James said philosophically. “That’s what Uncle Gerald told me I would need to do. But I think I’ll come and live with you instead, because I’m never going to get married. Girls are a real bother.”

  “That’s just stupid,” Edward muttered with a dark look at his brother.

  “Edward! Don’t say such things to your brother. And James . . .” Juliet’s eyes rounded with shock. Only seven years old and her son was talking about marrying for money. She knew that, since their father’s death, both of her sons had grown up faster than they should, but this was ridiculous.

  “Sorry, Mama,” James apologized readily, his expression solemn.

  As she expected, Edward wasn’t nearly as contrite as his younger brother, but his wound had been far more personal. She gazed hopefully at Edward, praying he would be able to accept this decision without too much heartache.

  She caught a glimpse of tears welling in his eyes, but then Edward raised his head and stared unfocused toward the ceiling. “When I am older, I will find a way to buy Highgrove Manor back.”

  “I hope that will happen, Edward, if that is what you truly want,” she answered.

  “It is.” He shook his head and then his gaze met hers—blessedly devoid of criticism. “I’m glad that we can stay here, though. I
like the house, even if it was meant for old ladies.”

  “Old ladies.” James snickered.

  Caught in their infectious merriment, Juliet smiled. Edward had taken the news rather well, all things considered. And his plan to once again own Highgrove someday was not completely out of the question. Perhaps she could make that a condition of the sale. If Mr. Harper ever decided to sell, Edward was to be given the opportunity to place the first, exclusive bid.

  The thought eased her lingering guilt. She opened her arms wide and embraced both boys. James returned the embrace with his usual enthusiasm; Edward was a bit more reserved, but Juliet was pleased that he easily accepted her kiss. He was growing up so fast. How much longer would he let his mother kiss him and rub his hair? Years and years and years, she hoped.

  After a moment, the boys pulled away. “I know I’m not supposed to talk about it, but now that we have lots of money, what are we going to do with it?” James asked with a sheepish smile.

  “All sorts of marvelous things,” Juliet said mysteriously.

  Edward raised his head. She could see him struggling to hold on to his disinterest, but curiosity won out. “Like what?”

  “Well, we shall pay all our bills, which I grant you is not in the least exciting, but very necessary. And we shall hire a few more servants to help run the household, and purchase new clothes. Oh, I do think we can buy a special present for each of you.”

  “Like a pony? You always said it cost too much to keep one, but things are different now.” James grinned from ear to ear with excitement.

  “I believe we can manage a pony.” Juliet turned her attention to Edward. “And a telescope,” she added, knowing how much her young astronomer longed for a proper instrument to study the stars.

  “Really?” Edward asked, his face brightening.

  “Oh, yes.” Juliet’s heart swelled with delight at witnessing her sons’ understanding of their sudden changed circumstances. “However, there is something that needs doing immediately that I believe will please you both nearly as much as it will delight me.”

  “What?” the boys asked in unison.

  “Why, we need to dismiss Mr. Bates, of course.”

  Juliet awoke the next morning in an optimistic mood, the last vestiges of misgivings over selling the manor gone. Mr. Fowler had brought the papers to her last evening directly after supper. She had read through them carefully, asking questions, requesting a few small changes, the most significant being Edward’s right of first refusal if the estate was to be offered for sale. Satisfied with the terms, she had signed the documents with a flourish.

  She sanded and folded the papers, and then suddenly a single, intense shiver racked through her body as she acknowledged that her life had changed drastically in that moment. Yet this time it was a change of her own making, not a cruelty of fate thrust so unexpectedly upon her.

  Anxiety over their future had become her constant companion these past few years. Though the cost had been high, being able to achieve financial stability had made her feel a deep sense of satisfaction.

  And it was all thanks to Mr. Harper. Her knight errant. Juliet smiled, wondering how he would react to being given that label. Not very well, she suspected.

  She believed he was a very different sort of man from any others she had known, and not only because he was an American. Maybe it was because he was in trade, but that label also seemed far too tame. According to Mr. Fowler, he was highly successful in a great number of business ventures both here and abroad.

  Thoughts of Mr. Harper naturally conjured his image in her mind—a very fine image, indeed. Juliet let her memory take hold, remembering in detail the firmness of his jaw, the intensity of his blue eyes, the timbre of his voice. Something warm had unfurled in the region of her chest as she recalled being in his company.

  A proper, virtuous woman would have silently scolded herself and pushed the images firmly away. Yet Juliet was honest enough to admit that four very lonely years devoid of any masculine comfort or affection had left her no longer a paragon of any sort.

  The truth was, she had not settled well into widowhood. Henry’s death had been so unexpected; soaked to the skin in a chilling rain one evening, a raging fever the next day, his life gone by the following dawn. She had moved in a fog for months after, but when the shock wore off, the real pain began in earnest.

  During the day the children kept her occupied, but at night, oh, at night the loneliness invaded her aching heart. Even now there were still times when she would turn over in her sleep, instinctively searching for his solid strength and warmth. Finding only a cold void in the bed beside her, she would awaken, the pain sharp and fresh.

  Mrs. Perkins had told her the only way to alleviate it was to marry again, to allow another man into her life. It was something Juliet thought about more and more over the past two years before finally admitting she was not averse to the idea. Naturally, this man would never take Henry’s place. He was her first love, and even if she was lucky enough to find a second, Henry would never entirely leave her.

  Mrs. Perkins had insisted that love and romance were not completely beyond her grasp—if she dared to let herself be receptive. And if she was somehow lucky enough to find a gentleman who was interested in her—and her children. He would need an abundance of patience, Juliet decided. And a dry sense of humor.

  “The Earl of Hastings has come to call,” Mrs. Perkins said, entering the small drawing room where Juliet sat lost in reflective contemplation. “Are you receiving visitors?”

  “Gerald?” A slithery feeling ran down Juliet’s spine at the mention of her brother-in-law’s name.

  “Can you not follow even the most basic of instructions, woman? I told you not to announce me!” Gerald Wentworth, the Earl of Hastings, stalked into the drawing room, pushing the door open with such force the hinges rattled in the door frame.

  Mrs. Perkins stood her ground, glaring at the earl. Alarmed, Juliet rose to defend her servant. “Mrs. Perkins was following my dictates, Gerald. All guests are announced when paying social calls. You mustn’t scold her for doing her job.”

  The earl glowered at Mrs. Perkins, an expression the older woman returned with equal measure before turning and leaving the room.

  “I clearly stated that this was not a social call,” the earl insisted, his stark blue eyes cold. “I’ve come to straighten out the latest mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Juliet.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Juliet said, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. Good Lord, how did he know about the sale of the manor already? Struggling to remain calm, she lifted her chin and held the earl’s incensed gaze without flinching. “There is no mess.”

  “Mr. Fowler tells me that you have promised to sell the manor house to an industrialist, an American Colonist, no less.” Gerald lifted his head and sniffed, his manner reeking of disapproval. “Naturally, I cannot allow such a travesty to befall my family. I have instructed Mr. Fowler to cancel the sale and send this Harper fellow on his way.”

  Juliet’s heart jumped. “You can’t do that.”

  “On the contrary, Juliet. I can do whatever I damn well please.”

  A cold trickle of annoyance at his inappropriate language dripped down her spine, but Juliet forced herself to stay calm. His crude comments hurt and infuriated her. It was insulting and degrading to speak to a lady thusly, especially one he had promised to care for and protect.

  Though Gerald liked to pretend he was always acting in her best interest, Juliet had realized long ago the truth of the matter. Her brother-in-law was a bully who delighted in taunting her. He thought of no one’s comfort but his own, placed his own needs and desires above all others. She had long ago accepted his selfish nature as something that would never change, yet she had foolishly hoped he would be more sympathetic when it came to the welfare of his brother’s children.

  Knowing it would in all likelihood enrage him not to appear visibly shaken, Juliet still refused to give him
the satisfaction of seeing her cringe. She advanced slowly, elegantly to meet him in the center of the room, ignoring her shaking knees.

  “I’ve already signed the papers, Gerald, and received a substantial down payment. Mr. Harper is a shrewd businessman who will not allow himself to be swindled.”

  “I don’t care if he’s the bloody Prince Consort. I refuse to allow an upstart, uncouth interloper in my brother’s home.” Gerald was breathing hard, his beefy hands closed into fists at his sides.

  “Henry is dead,” Juliet said flatly. “The house belongs to Edward, as you very well know. As his guardian, it is my right to decide what is best for my son’s future. The debts on the estate are continually mounting. Selling at this time will give Edward a sound financial start when he reaches his majority. Besides, this arrangement will relieve you of any further financial obligations toward us. I thought that would make you happy.”

  “Happy?” The earl’s eyes bulged, his face reddening. “It appears that you have conveniently forgotten that I am also Edward’s guardian and have an equal say in the boy’s future. And I give you fair warning, Juliet, I will not stand idly by and watch you squander my nephew’s rightful inheritance.”

  Juliet snorted. How dare he? Gerald didn’t give a fig about Edward’s inheritance, or have a concern for any of Henry’s children. If he did, he would not be so miserly in his care of them.

  “I had no choice,” she said. “Aside from the estate going deeper into debt each year, my own bills are impossible to meet on my current allowance.”

  “Clearly you are too extravagant.” Gerald’s mouth took on an ugly twist. “You must learn to live more frugally.”

  Juliet bristled at the unfair attack. Extravagant! Why, they barely paid their bills as it was, and had little left over for anything extra. “You can’t be serious,” she said in stunned disbelief. “Are new shoes for my children an extravagance, Gerald? Or clothes that fit properly? Or perhaps it is the food they eat? That is what I spend my very limited resources upon.”