Seven Rogues for Christmas: A Historical Romance Holiday Collection

by Dawn Brower

  “Now, now, Gabs, don’t be a spoilsport. You know I like to live in the moment.”

  “I shall order the tea,” announced Edna. “I am, after all, lady of this house.” Gabriella bit her tongue and nodded graciously at the countess.

  “Of course, my lady. I do apologise for presuming.”

  “You can join us for tea if you wish, Gabriella, though I am not sure you are exactly dressed for visitors.” Edna’s gaze roved up and down Gabriella’s attire and she could feel heat burn her cheeks.

  “Thank you, but I beg you excuse me. I have work to finish.”

  “Have you organised dinner?” asked her sister-in-law.

  “You have only just arrived. I was not expecting you.”

  The countess clicked her fingers at the footman standing to attention at the drawing room door.

  “Fetch a tea tray, boy, and tell Mrs McAllister we expect dinner to be served at seven o’clock.”

  “Aye, my lady.” Billy bowed and hurried off to do his mistress’s bidding. Gabriella hated the way Edna spoke to the servants. She turned to her brother.

  “My lord, if you’ll excuse me?” She curtseyed to her brother and then to their guest and hurried off in the direction of the long sweeping staircase, desperate for the sanctuary of her own suite of rooms.

  As much as Nick tried to remember whatever it was he had said to Gabby to upset her so, even all these years later, he could not recall it. He lay in the bath in his room, trying to remember anything after her teary farewell the day before he had gone to Eton. He had promised to write and tell her all about school and the other boys and the masters and his lessons but he never had. He had been caught up in his new life and even his mother had been lucky to get one quickly scrawled missive per term.

  But that was not what had upset her. He could tell.

  “My lord, you shall be late for dinner if you do not hurry.” Carter, his valet, stood beside the tub brandishing a razor.

  “Ah yes. I do apologise. I was wool gathering.”

  “Very good, sir, but it is nearly half past six.”

  “Indeed.” Nick pulled himself to his feet and allowed the man to wrap a linen around him. He would work things out with Gabriella later and perhaps tell her about the wager. It seemed the right thing to do.

  When he walked into the drawing room half an hour later, clean-shaven, washed and dressed in one of his best dinner coats, his eyes alighted on Gabriella. He had travelled all day with Thornwich and his countess, bitterly regretting his stupid wager of the night before. But the wager was now in White’s betting book and he had plans for the money he had saved from his generous allowance. He did not want to give it up to a wastrel like Thornwich. He had to win and he needed to get Gabriella on his side—either by telling her the truth, a gamble in itself—or by wooing her.

  “Joseph, please. Three tenants need completely new roofs and…” But Thornwich held his hand up to his sister as he noticed their visitor had arrived. Gabriella blushed delightfully and turned to look in his direction. Her gaze swept up his length, making Nick’s blood warm.

  Or perhaps it was the dark red, high-waisted, low-cut gown that warmed his blood. It was a gown more suited to a young widow than an innocent lady, even one who was eight and twenty. The neckline of her dress had gold braiding, drawing attention to her perfect breasts. A gold chain hung around her slender neck, a large ruby pendant sitting just above the top of her cleavage. Her hairstyle was less severe this evening and curls framed her face, while the rest of her hair was piled high, making her appear slightly taller than she was.

  As he worked to tamp down his physical reaction to her, suddenly the idea of marrying her, and more importantly bedding her, did not seem like quite such an onerous task anymore. How, though, would he go about convincing her to marry him in less than three weeks?

  “My lord, would you like a drink?”

  At this point, however, the gong went in the downstairs hall, calling them into dinner. Nick smiled at Gabriella while she frowned at the brandy decanter she had just indicated. The earl and countess moved to precede them downstairs and into the dining room. Nick held out his arm and Gabriella reluctantly placed her gloved hand on his sleeve.

  He looked down at her as they walked sedately downstairs but the woman he intended to marry looked straight ahead, her pert little nose in the air. He was on the side of her birthmark and, if he was honest, it was not particularly bad. Yes, it was obvious and it did mar her features somewhat but it was only skin discolouration and with her pink lips set in a little pout of disapproval, he had the sudden urge to kiss her.

  Unfortunately, the woman’s stiff posture and inability to look him in the eye told him that it would take some effort for him to win this St Nicholas’ Day wager.

  Chapter 15

  “Please, Mr Brown, the tenants’ roofs are in need of repair. Water is leaking in and the draughts make it impossible for some to keep a fire lit. I can pay you in the spring once the new lambs have been sold at market.” Lady Gabriella’s voice drifted down the large hallway and Nick stopped, tapping his riding crop against his boot as he listened to his childhood friend’s plea.

  “Lady Gabriella, you know I would fix them if I could but… I have mouths to feed too, my lady. Thatching is my only source of income. I need payment and so do my men. I am sorry, your ladyship, but there is nothing I can do if you do not have the funds to pay me.”

  “What about jewellery? I only have a few necklaces owned by my mama but I could give you them.” There was a pause and Nick moved nearer to the open door. He could see Gabriella’s visitor. He was young, maybe thirty years old, sturdily built and wearing clothes that set him apart as a manual labourer.

  “Perhaps you could sell them in London, my lady, and then pay me in money. I have no use for jewels and who would buy them out here in the country?”

  Gabriella sighed. Nick‘s heart went out to her. She’d probably known this fellow for years and this would be a very uncomfortable conversation.

  “Is there nothing I can say to make you change your mind?” Her defeat was evident in her voice and it hurt him to hear it. It seemed that Thornwich had left his sister to manage the estate, which did not come as a huge surprise to Nick.

  He tapped lightly on the door but did not wait for permission and simply entered. She looked up at him, surprise evident on her features. He smiled, hoping to set her at ease but her surprise turned into an unwelcoming scowl.

  “Mr Brown, how much money do you need to fix the roofs of the tenants’ houses?”

  “Most of the houses need some kind of repair, my lord, and I have men to pay. I do not work alone.”

  “How much?”

  “Really? This is too much,” butted in Lady Gabriella. Nick raised a hand and surprisingly she stopped speaking. Gabriella had never been one to keep her mouth shut when she had something to say. Even as a child she’d been precocious, regularly getting in trouble with her nanny for being far too forthcoming for a young lady.

  “Fifty pounds.”

  “Fifty?”

  “Aye, like I said, most roofs need something done.”

  Nick pulled his money purse out of the pocket of his coat. “Thirty pounds now and the rest when you have finished.”

  “Seems fair,” said the thatcher. Nick watched him as he accepted the money. The man’s expression didn’t change. His eyes did not light up with greed. This was a fair wage for fair work and both men knew it and so did Gabriella. Out of the corner of his eye, he could practically see the steam coming from the blonde woman’s ears. She was enraged by him but good manners prevented her from saying anything.

  “I expect good work for my money, Brown. If I hear you’ve cheated Lady Gabriella…”

  “I promise, my lord, you will not find fault in my work.” The man pocketed his money, bowed to both Gabriella and Nick and hurried out of the room.

  Gabriella waited until the man was walking back up the private road to the village before she roun
ded on Nick.

  “Of all the high-handed, boorish, rude, obnoxious...”

  Again, Nick raised his hand and good breeding prevented her from saying more. He turned and closed the door.

  “I think we need some privacy,” he said simply.

  “Open the door at once, you brute. It is not proper for you and me to be alone together.”

  “Hush, my lady. Please do not give yourself a fit of the vapours. I plan to marry you anyway.”

  Gabriella clasped a hand over her cleavage, grabbing a hold on the desk to steady herself. Her face was ashen and her mouth gaped before she gathered her wits enough to stutter out a couple of words.

  “You... do?”

  “I do,” he said firmly. He had wanted to woo her and convince her to marry him when he had first set out on this wager but he had a feeling that Gabriella would prefer honesty and he was going to be brutally honest.

  “And do I have a choice?” Her lips were set in a thin line and her brow was furrowed, her gaze rather ferocious for a young lady of good breeding. Two spots of dark colour on her cheeks showed her displeasure at the turn of events.

  “Not really. You see, there is a wager in the betting book at White’s Gentlemen’s Club which says that I will not be married to you by Christmas. The wager was made by the Earl of Thornwich.” Gabriella’s mouth had dropped open in shock. “I wagered that I would be married to you by Christmas. There is ten thousand pounds resting on the outcome of it.”

  “Pardon!” Her voice had risen almost to a screech and she looked around as if hoping for some other escape from the study but of course, there was none. “Joseph does not have ten thousand pounds. What do you think that discussion with the thatcher was about?”

  “No, it appears that he does not.”

  “Why would you do that? Why would you wager someone else’s life in such a cavalier manner? I understand that women are naught but property but…” her voice trailed off, hurt and bewilderment now evident in her expression. He felt like a cad.

  “I was foxed. I know it is no excuse. I did not think that Thornwich would actually go through with it and then I realised the joke was on you as much as on me. He was setting us both up to fail. It may not mean much to you, Lady Gabriella, but honour demanded that I accept the bet once the challenge was issued. Had I tried to weasel out of it, well… gentlemen can be cruel and I would not have been the one to whom their cruelty nor to whom the wagging tongues of the Beau Monde would have been directed. ”

  “So you agreed this wager to protect me?” Gabriella pushed at a curl of hair that had come free from the severe knot of her coiffure. “I do not believe you, my lord. You are as selfish and cruel as is my brother.” She made a move towards the door but he blocked her way.

  “Please, Gabby, wait! Listen to me. I thought about this last night. I considered whether I should just seduce you and claim a love match or if I should tell you the truth. I chose the truth because I believe you deserve to know. Friendship and love can grow. We come from a society that expects arranged marriages. From what little I have seen of you today and yesterday, I have the utmost respect for you and you are quite lovely. I see no reason for a marriage not to work. Please, let us try.”

  “My lord, I have not given you leave to make free with my given name, let alone a pet name none but my dearest friends use.”

  “We used to be friends,” he persisted. He would not feel bad for calling her by the name she used to insist that he use.

  “Not anymore. I am no longer a child of twelve, Lord Eastden.”

  His gaze swept up her slender body, over the perfectly respectable lavender muslin day gown until it rested on her bosom. He had accepted his fate and it was not an unpleasant one. Ever since he had agreed the wager, his mind had shifted to the inevitability of bedding Gabriella. And he was eager to do so—when the time was right. His mouth was dry and he licked his lips as he imagined peeling the dress off, untying her stays and weighing those perfect globes in his hands.

  “No, Lady Gabriella, you are most definitely not a child anymore.”

  No one had ever looked at Gabriella like that before. Nicholas—Lord Eastden looked like a cat readying itself to pounce on a mouse. His gaze seemed transfixed on her breasts and it made her feel uncomfortable and yet… it also made her feel beautiful and wanted. She shook her head. What a ridiculous idea. She was ugly. He had said so himself.

  He dragged his gaze back up to her face and for a moment she dared to believe that he had changed his mind. There was no look of revulsion or disdain in his features. His eyes were hooded and, again, he licked his lips. That pink tongue sent her insides fluttering like birds.

  “You know it makes sense, Gabby. You need a husband, I need a wife. Then when Thornwich admits to being unable to pay his end of the wager, we can force him to take on a man of business to run the estates, under the threat of me calling in his debt.”

  “He does not need a man of business. I run the estate perfectly well.”

  “I have just been out riding and I agree, you are doing a marvellous job, but Thornwich remains in control and makes stupid wagers with money you need to improve the lives of your tenants and estate workers. You are powerless to stop him from wasting money.”

  “I…” She was confused and tired and unsettled by the goings on over the past day. He spoke sense but she was not ready to relinquish control yet. “I shall pay you back as soon as we have sold this year’s lambs.”

  “And what of next year, Gabby? What of the year after? Even if I lose and have to give your brother ten thousand pounds, how much of that do you think you shall see for repairs and other estate matters?”

  Gabriella sighed. He was correct, of course but marrying him was a rather drastic step.

  What he had said before made sense. Perhaps love and devotion could grow. He was certainly a very attractive man.

  “I am not sure,” she said weakly, knowing she must gain some time to consider the matter properly. Of course, she’d had no other offers—ever—and he was a respectable gentleman with a good title and money. She would be a fool to turn him down. He moved close to her… even closer than if they were waltzing in Almack’s and she was forced to raise her eyes to meet his dark brown gaze. Her heart seemed to miss a beat as he moved his mouth tantalisingly close to hers.

  “If I need to seduce you, Lady Gabriella, I am up to the task.”

  “You would force yourself upon me?” she said, aghast. He chuckled and placed his hand under her chin.

  “No, my love. I have never yet had to force a woman into my bed. I am not about to start now. When you come to my bed, you shall come willingly… oh, so willingly, Gabby.” He touched his nose to hers and she thought she may get her first kiss. Her heart felt like it was thudding right out of her chest and she had the urge to press her body closer to his. She wanted to feel those taut muscles against her softer curves. But then he straightened, backed towards the door, turned the knob and bowed.

  “Think about it, my lady,” he said before he turned and walked out.

  Gabriella allowed her bottom to rest fully on the desk as she drew in a long, slow breath. She didn’t know what to think. Once upon a time, Nick had been the centre of her world. They had been the best of friends, slaying dragons, sailing the seven seas, exploring the new world and sometimes even playing house when Gabriella whined enough and Nick was in the mood to cave in to her demands. Then he had hurt her and she’d not seen him again, bar a few glimpses at balls during her fruitless London Seasons.

  Now here he was with a proposal of marriage and a devastating smile that caused her stomach to knot and her breath to hitch. Oh dear, she was just so confused.

  Nick lay in bed, tossing and turning and running over in his mind how to convince Gabriella to marry him. He could not help but think she had been tempted by his bold, honest proposition. Gabriella had always been a sensible chit and she was getting on in years. She appeared to have no other marriage prospects and his proposal did
make financial sense. However, she was a female and despite some of them claiming to be practical and pragmatic, he suspected most ladies wanted romance too.

  He turned onto his side, pulling the blankets over his shoulders. His mind filled with imaginings of Gabriella lying on a pillow, her hair splayed out over it, her lips swollen from his kisses and the skin on her chest and breasts scraped by his day beard. He tried to push the thoughts away. It wouldn’t do for him to have to tamp down his frustrations again and he was growing hard again at the thought of her.

  She had taunted him all evening with her low-cut neckline, the long eyelashes she had batted whenever he caught her gaze and the arse which teased and tempted as she walked.

  They had not discussed their earlier conversation at all during the day or during dinner and the ensuing game of cards but Nick knew she was considering it. How to push her to the next stage,though? She was an innocent, so seducing her would have to be done carefully so as not to frighten her.

  He flung himself onto his back. This was no good. He couldn’t get her out of his mind and sleep was not going to happen at this rate. He needed a plan and in order to formulate one, he needed some exercise. He threw the covers off, marched over to the chair and hauled on the breeches he had worn the day before. It was a full moon outside, the perfect weather for a middle of the night walk.

  Gabriella sat on the large seat at her bedroom window, watching a fox sniff the frozen ground in search of food. The poor thing would find nothing to eat around the old manor house. The weather had been crisp and cold for days now and the ground was rock hard.

  The fox raised its head, listened for a moment and then fled. Gabriella lifted her eyebrow, wondering what could have frightened the creature. A figure appeared in the silvery light of moon, hunched up against the cold, but unmistakeably Viscount Eastden. Unfortunately, his greatcoat covered up his lean, muscular form, but she still had memories of him striding into her office, his breeches stretched over his thighs, showing off every muscle and sinew and causing her to blush and feel altogether too warm.