He should be like a brother to her. It was clear that she had affection for his sisters. He remembered watching her the past few evenings in animated conversation with his family. Her eyes sparkled and her smile was bright. She was enjoying herself and her joy brought him happiness.
Even his mother had smiled upon her and gave Jane her approval, which was no small feat, but that approval was as a friend of his family, not as his wife. Whatever, was he thinking? He already had a bride, a woman that everyone approved of. Well, almost everyone, he thought. What was wrong with him? Lady Margret was perfect for him.
Ted was constantly telling him what a lucky man he was to have Lady Margret. She was an incomparable beauty. She had status and poise and wealth. She was of his social standing, but he was not in love with her. Was he in love with Miss Bellevue? He shook his head and handed off his coat to Hughes, the butler.
What was he coming to? Love, what a daft thought. He had no need of love.
His friends, Reynolds and Fitzwilliam re-entered the house just behind him.
“I say, Keegain,” Fitz said with a shiver. “It’s deuced cold. How about some eggnog to take off the chill?” He pulled off his gloves finger by finger.
“Or brandy,” Ted added.
“Or eggnog with brandy,” Fitz teased, “If I must make do with meager spirits for warmth instead of my Mary.”
Fitz had been decrying the lack of Miss Wadsworth all day, and even Ted chided him. “Get a hold of yourself, man!”
Laughing with Christmas cheer, Lord Keegain waved over a servant to find something to warm them before they started the decorating in earnest.
The house came alive with Christmas cheer. Pine boughs were hung from every possible surface. Bows and ribbons adorned the staircase, and candles were lit in extravagant abundance. Charlotte suggested that they might enjoy the decorations with a Christmas story this evening and there was agreement all around.
Mother was just finishing attaching the final boughs to a wreath that Helen was holding for her. Miss Bellevue held her fingers aloft for Charlotte to tie a bow for it. Charlotte took the bow from Jane’s fingers and Keegain was amazed that Miss Bellevue fit so well with his family. Would it be so he wondered when he was married to Lady Margret? Or would she simply have the servants ordered to do all the decorating?
Mulled wine was flowing freely, and Fitz and Reynolds toasted the ladies before helping to hang the wreath above the fireplace. This was how it should be, the earl thought.
Even though the servants were rushing here and there as he directed them, he also put his hands to the task. Hernon, a footman, brought in a silver tray of the earl’s favorite biscuits. Miss Bellevue’s bright laugh brought his attention back to her and he realized that she had said something to make the very proper Mr. White smile. Ted and Fitz set upon the biscuits, but he knew there was plenty.
Lord Keegain turned back to his decorating. He had hung several holly boughs himself and now held the mistletoe with thoughts of where to place it. Several places he decided hoping to catch Miss Bellevue under it. He hung one mistletoe bough in the sitting room and two in the corridor.
He had just placed one above his head in the arch between the library and the corridor, and he remembered that he might have left the Lord Beresford’s letter on his desk. He went in to check. It would not do to leave such things lying about when there would be guests in the house. He picked up the letter and reread it concern creasing his brow.
Keegain sat for a moment in his chair, his Christmas cheer dampened by the news contained in the letter, but after a moment, he pushed it aside. He would not let his concern touch his family. He put the letter in a drawer, locked it and stood. He thought he would head back to the sitting room where he could hear laughter and singing when Miss Bellevue paused at the door to the library.
“Oh,” she said as she realized he was in the room.
“If you see anything that strikes your fancy, you are more than welcome to enjoy it while you are with us, Miss Bellevue.” He gestured about the expansive library.
“Thank you.” She blushed a little, though for the life of him, Keegain could not think of what he had said to illicit that response. It was rather charming, though. She seemed to have developed a shyness in the past few days. He did not want her to be shy with him. The singing continued in the other room as she came into the library, stepping under the mistletoe.
“That is very kind and very generous of you, Lord Keegain,” she said, her voice and stance very formal. He wondered if he had done something to upset her. They were not truly alone, he thought. His sisters and mother were only a room away and the library door was open.
“Not at all. You are my guest, despite my deplorable lack of manners in closeting myself in the study. Please forgive me for acting like a hermit. I assure you I have taken no vows of poverty.” He gestured around the opulent room to prove his point.
Jane looked around the room, her face expressing approval and perhaps just a bit of awe. He realized he was boasting. He wanted to impress her. Had he done so? He wanted to pull her out of her shell. He wanted to see her smile again, just for him, but she only nodded.
“Lady Charlotte suggested that I find something to read tonight,” she said sweetly, concentrating on the books by the door. It was odd, the way her eyes slid off of him as they spoke, as if she did not want to look directly at him. “A Christmas story,” she added.
“I know just the one,” he said pulling the book from the shelf, and taking Miss Bellevue’s hand and tucking it into the crook of his elbow. She felt right there, he thought, at his side. Lord Keegain glanced towards the mistletoe. Would she acquiesce or would she refuse him? It was only a bit of harmless fun, he thought, only he knew it wasn’t. He wanted most ardently to kiss her.
“Lady Charlotte took me on a tour of the house,” Miss Bellevue said. “I am sure that much effort goes into the running of an estate such as this. It must be very taxing,”
“It can be,” the earl conceded. He paused in the doorway, mistletoe overhead. “Less so at the moment. I am glad you have come,” he said seriously.
“And I.”
The din from the sitting room drifted down the corridor. The laughter and singing had been raised to epic proportions. Keegain wondered suddenly if Charlotte mentioned Miss Bellevue in passing? Could he have met her in Bath nearly half a year ago? I really must pay closer attention to my sisters. The thought made him grin.
“Is there something amusing, my lord?” Jane looked at him, wide-eyed. Innocent. Beautiful. Absolutely beguiling. He glanced up drawing her attention to the mistletoe.
“Oh,” she said in surprise, but she did not move from under the bough.
“Happy Christmas,” she said in a hushed tone.
“Happy Christmas,” he replied as he tipped her face up, fully intending to kiss her mouth.
“There you are!” Charlotte voice chastised him. “You are being a dreadful host, disappearing like that,” she stopped suddenly, as if just noticing Jane at his side, and gave him a curious expression. He handed Miss Bellevue the book as if that had been his intent all along.
“Yes, I suppose I am,” Lord Keegain said moving away from Miss Bellevue. “Will you have it out with me?”
“I shall be vexed,” Charlotte promised although there was a smile in her voice.
“I suppose that is a common quality of sisters,” he said, but the truth was he rarely argued with his sisters. They got along swimmingly.
“It may be,” Jane smiled and her eyes once again ran to the book in her hand as if that was the only safe harbor. “I find it to be so with my sister, certainly, but I have no male sibling to gauge how a brother would take the same impetus.”
“Remarkably similar I would suspect.” Lord Keegain must look a fool the way he kept grinning, but could not seem to stop himself. The girl was articulate and quick.
“You must make yourself at home,” he said once again taking hold of her hand. “If you want to
borrow a book for yourself, you may. Whatever you desire, ask and it shall be yours.” He found that he meant the sentiment. He wanted her to be happy here.
“Come along dear brother,” Helen called from the doorway. “There are other rooms to decorate.”
“The lady was about to select a book for her own company later.” He smiled and stepped back, magnanimously indicating his collection.
But Jane shook her head and stepped back, away from him. “I thank you for the offer, but I fear that my time here is too limited to delve into something I would be unable to finish. But again, I thank you.”
“If you wish to finish the volume, take it home with you. I am sure it will find its way back to me.” The thought gave him a jolt of happiness to think that he would have an excuse to see her again. “If you decide to change your mind, I am sure my sisters would be happy to help you find a good selection.” He looked to Charlotte for confirmation, but it was Jane herself that brought him up short.
“Or perhaps I could prevail upon Lady Margret,” she said in a very quiet voice. “I understand she will soon be mistress here.”
Lady Margret. The two words struck Lord Keegain as a blow. He had quite forgotten Lady Margret. He and Lady Margret were contracted to be married, but until this moment the agreement had seemed little more than names on a contract. The inevitable union was the logical outcome of years of family association, but Lady Margret was not the vibrant woman who stood before him. He suddenly felt quite cold.
With another polite word of thanks, Jane joined his sisters and walked quickly through the library door.
Keegain bowed and nodded, following the rest of them out, letting the servants tidy up the room behind him. The conversation had unnerved him. Whatever joy he had found in those few minutes flirting with Miss Jane Bellevue was lost now; rubbed out by reality.
The mention of his engagement set a bad taste in his mouth, especially coming from her: from Miss Bellevue. It made no sense. He tried to shrug it off. Put it down to nerves at the seriousness of the marriage commitment.
He would speak to Margret upon her return and put Miss Bellevue entirely out of his mind. That was all there was to be said on the matter.
11
The day of the Christmas ball was fast approaching. The halls were properly hung with pine and holly. Mistletoe graced several doorways, and Jane was careful to avoid them especially when the earl was present. She had been quite sure that Lord Keegain was going to kiss her under the mistletoe when Lady Charlotte had interrupted them. It was only a bit of harmless fun; she told herself. Only she was quite sure it wasn’t harmless, at least not for her.
Jane spent much of the night tossing and turning in her oversized bed and when she finally fell asleep it was quite late. Consequently, she awoke later than usual and she did not see the earl ride out in the morning. She felt quite vexed with herself as if the day did not begin properly without seeing him.
When she opened the door to her chamber she realized that the household was quite awake and in full swing. She thought since it was probably past nine, the ladies would be awake soon, if not already. She might see Lady Charlotte at breakfast rather than having tea with Mrs. Muir. She went down the front stairs, and paused in the corridor.
She could hear someone singing Christmas carols. It was him. The earl. She recognized the sound of his voice. It sent tremors though her. She turned to go the other way, but she was not quick enough. There he was before her.
“Oh!” she said startled.
He stopped singing. “I do apologize if I have frightened you,” he said.
“No, of course not. I only…” she consciously stopped herself from babbling. It was the first time they were alone since he had almost kissed her under the mistletoe. Her heart was beating so fast it hurt.
She looked at him under the cover of her lashes. His hazel eyes sparkled with joy. He was so handsome and his voice was surprising, deep and melodious. She floundered for something witty to say.
“I had not thought you would have such a fine singing voice,” she told him truthfully.
“My father taught me that one when I was small,” the earl said pulling off his gloves finger by finger and handing his coat to a footman.
“Your father? Did he sing too?”
“Yes. Now, he was the one with a wonderful voice. The gallery choir still misses him,” Keegain said as he unwrapped the scarf from around his neck. “Although I do my best, I shall never replace him, I fear.”
“You sing in the church?”
“I do, as my father before me. There was much singing in our house when my father was alive. He was a jolly man.”
“So is his son, I believe,” she said, and blushed as he raised an eyebrow. He would know his secret was out. “I mean, I had not realized.”
“Oh, I am full of surprises,” he said.
Jane believed that. At least so far the earl had been very surprising; intriguing was perhaps a better word.
“As we become better acquainted, you will see,” he said.
“Oh?” Jane said again.
He held her gaze.
Was the earl suggesting that they should become better acquainted? She knew she shouldn’t. She was here to visit with his sisters, not with him. She was treading on dangerous ground. He had nearly kissed her last night, and she had almost allowed it.
“Shall we see if Mrs. Muir has tea?” he asked “And sweet rolls hot from the oven?”
She stared at him.
“Or have you already broken your fast?” Lord Keegain asked. “Of course, you haven’t. Come.” He held out a hand to her.
Jane froze. “Have breakfast with you?” she said. Jane considered. Other than the servants, the household seemed to be still asleep. They would be unchaperoned; just the two of them across the breakfast table, like…why like a married couple. Dangerous ground indeed.
“You are hungry are you not?” He said, and Jane wondered if he noted that she did not always keep herself to ladylike portions. It was difficult with Mrs. Muir’s wonderful cooking. “Have breakfast with me,” he said, his voice soft, coaxing, alluring.
“I think I shall,” she said as she put her hand in his, “but I had called for tea.”
Keegain turned to the footman that awaited upon his pleasure.
“Mr. Hernon, Miss Bellevue will have her tea in the dining room, and tell Mr. White we are ready for breakfast.”
The man gave a short bow and hurried away.
Lord Keegain was a perfect gentleman as he seated Jane at the table, and it seemed that a member of the staff was always present, which while it wasn’t exactly a formal chaperone; it was more acceptable than being entirely alone with him.
As a huge plate of sausages was served, Lord Keegain said, “We all are very pleased to have your company here, for the holiday Miss Bellevue. I know Charlotte was near over the moon when I allowed the visit.”
“Yes, thank you for agreeing,” Jane said demurely as she pulled off her gloves and laid them in her lap. She covered them with her napkin. Her heart seemed to be beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. “I thank you for allowing me to share your holiday, Lord Keegain. It was very kind of you.”
“My pleasure,” he said, and the words somehow seemed to bring back the memory of his touch in the library. She forgot to breathe with the very thought of it.
“I am afraid I spoil my sisters,” he said while nodding to the footmen serving the sausages. “When Charlotte asked to invite you, how could I refuse when I knew it would bring her joy to share the holiday season with her newest friend? I only wish your Father and sister could have joined us. If I had thought of it, I would have extended the invitation. It was remiss of me. Christmas is a time for those closest to our hearts.”
Was she close to his heart?
“A time for family,” he continued.
Jane shook her head trying to concentrate on the conversation at hand rather than mooning over the man. “My father prefers to stay closer
to home in the winter,” she said. “He still gets relapses of the pneumonia that plagued him last winter, but he sends his best regards,” Jane explained between bites of breakfast sausage. She wondered if Mrs. Muir made the sausages as well. One more recipe for her to collect.
“But only he and your sister for the holidays? Will he not travel to some relative?” Keegain asked.
“He is planning to spend the season with the Poppy family,” she said. “They are good friends.”
“Ah, the lady who accompanied you?”
“Yes. That was Mrs. Poppy. The family lives near Bath.”
“I hope that you find joy in our company as Charlotte has found in yours.”
“I have. Thank you,” she said softly.
And you, Jane thought. Has my being here, brought you joy this season?
As if he could read her mind, the earl said, “I, too, am glad to share your smile.” He laid his hand on hers and with the shock of skin to skin, she felt her heart leap. She was reminded of the aborted kiss in the library. She realized she very much wanted him to kiss her.
Now Jane truly blushed. The sentiment made heat suffuse her body and she knew her face was sporting colors. She looked down at her sausages and instead saw his hand still atop hers.
“Randolph, you know this is most improper,” said a voice from the doorway. Jane recognized Lady Helen. “What would Lady Margret think?”
“I am sure she would think that we were hungry,” Keegain said rising at his sister’s entrance and moving his hand from Jane’s. “Anyway, Mr. Hernon has barely left the room, and the sentiment is silly. There is no one here to spread scandal.”
“It is still improper,” Lady Helen insisted, and Jane knew she should have refused breakfast.
“Oh Lud, Helen. Do not be ridiculous,” Lord Keegain spat as he seated his sister. “I do not intend to ravish Miss Bellevue on the breakfast table.”
Winning Lady Jane: A Christmas Regency Romance (Ladies of Bath Book 0) Page 7