Seven Rogues for Christmas: A Historical Romance Holiday Collection

by Dawn Brower

  Gabriella could not help thinking that Edna would be delighted to pass this duty off to Lady Chetfern. In fact she doubted very much whether Edna would even think of a trousseau.

  “I am sure Lady Thornwich would not mind in the least but I really do not need such frivolous items, my lady. My night attire and undergarments are serviceable.” Only Nick would know what dire circumstances her family was in and he only knew because he had been nosy and butted in.

  “Nothing frivolous about it. It shall be my wedding gift to you.”

  “Oh no, Lady Chetfern. I could not possibly…”

  The older woman put her hand on Gabriella’s and smiled. “I do not wish to be indelicate, my dear, but the gossip around town is that your brother treats you abominably and that he has wagered away the family fortune. And while his circumstances are none of my concern, yours are because they are Nicholas’s concern. I…I…” Lady Chetfern’s eyes filled with tears. “I never forgave myself for not trying harder to heal the rift between your mother and me after the cruel things that Nicholas said to you that day. An apology now is worthless, Gabriella, but perhaps you will allow me this. A chance to make it up to you. A beautiful young woman like you should have a beautiful gown on your wedding day. Please come to London with me and allow me to make amends.”

  “My lady, there is no need.”

  “But there is a need, Gabriella. I will not force you but I would be delighted if you would accept my offer. If you would prefer it, I can always set up the accounts in Nick’s name and he can pay for them, since he was the one who wronged you.” Her smile was mischievous and Gabriella felt her resolve melting. She could not help thinking that Lady Chetfern was manipulating her, but somehow she did not mind. She was being manipulated for the right reasons.

  Gabriella nodded her consent and the countess clapped her hands together in glee.

  Gabriella sighed with contentment. She needed some new chemises and nightrails. Her old ones were rather old and tatty now. Nick deserved a wife to have nice clean, cotton night attire that had not been hemmed so many times he could see her ankles. He would think her completely wanton.

  “Father, I need you to have a word with Rogers.”

  “Oh?” his father raised his eyebrow as he swirled his brandy in its glass and stretched his booted feet out in front of the fire. “Why?”

  “When Gabriella and I arrived, he recognised her and called her by name.”

  “It’s a butler’s duty to remember faces, Nick. That’s why he’s such a damned good butler and why much as I feel he should be pensioned off by now, I haven’t quite got round to it.”

  “But Papa, he remembered her because of her birthmark and she was embarrassed.”

  “Did he? Is that what he said? ‘Welcome Lady Gabriella, I would never have recognised you but for the strawberry birthmark on your cheek and nose?”

  “No, but…well he looked like he was about to raise his hand. It was an unconscious gesture, I’m sure, but all the same it made Gabriella uncomfortable.”

  “Nick, the girl has not changed an iota since she was twelve years old, apart from the obvious… er… rather delightful enhancements. Had she never had that damned mark, she would still have been recognisable to Rogers since her family was here every month since she was born. Stop trying to offload your guilt about what happened onto my butler.”

  “I am not. I accept full responsibility for what happened, as did my backside at the time.”

  “Believe me, son, you got off lightly. If not for your mother being soft on you, you would still be locked in the nursery eating gruel. You did a lot of damage with one cruel remark. If Gabriella’s father had wanted justice for his daughter, I could have been staring down the barrel of a pistol at dawn in Hyde Park. Then where would you and your mother have been, eh? Tell me that boy? Ostracised? America? Thank God Thornwich walked away. We could have lost a lot more than the friendship of their family that day, son.”

  “I know.” He gulped his brandy. He was sure the only reason he had not remembered was because of the shame he felt. Now it was as clear as day.

  His father rubbed his chin and studied him. Nick felt as though he was twelve again and felt absolutely wretched.

  “I know that you know, which is why I wonder at your reasons for marrying her. Why dredge up all these horrible memories? Do not misunderstand me. She is a lovely young woman—accomplished, pretty, clever, demure—but why her, and why now?”

  Nick speared his hair with his fingers. He really had to tell the truth.

  “Her brother is an ass and so am I. Thornwich and I were in White’s and we were discussing the season and my penchant for a certain lady who is now a duchess. He was goading me and I was foxed. I told him I could marry by Christmas if I chose and he said it sounded like a wager. He wagered me that I could not get Gabriella to marry me by Christmas.” Throughout his speech, his father’s brows had furrowed deeper and deeper. “So I accepted the bet.”

  “Devil take it, Nick. What the hell were you thinking? What if she finds out?”

  “She already knows.”

  His father jerked his head up, his eyes wide. Then he fumbled with his quizzing glass and looked at Nick through it as if Nick was some kind of plant specimen that should be examined.

  “You told her?” Nick nodded. “And she accepted?”

  “Obviously. I felt like a cad but I could not pull out of the wager. You know what the ton is like. Had I refused the wager, they would have found Gabriella wanting. They would have claimed that I could not stomach the idea of marrying her. I had to go through with it for her reputation and because of the circumstances, I thought she deserved the truth.”

  “And yet I do not see her hand mark on your face, for you certainly deserve a slap from her!”

  “Her brother is almost penniless. When I told her, I had just given the thatcher money to pay for mending the roofs of a number of the tenant’s cottages. It seems that Gabriella is doing the work of a man of business for her brother.”

  “I see. I knew that Thornwich has massive gambling debts but I suppose I had never thought much on the impact it would have on Gabriella. It seems our whole family has done that girl a disservice. No matter now. Your mother is in the process of convincing her to come to London with us tomorrow. You may as well come too and you can visit the Archbishop of Canterbury for your special licence. Perhaps there will be a show on at Drury Lane and we can all go. You can stay in your bachelor apartment and Lady Gabriella can stay with your mama and me in the townhouse—for the sake of propriety.”

  “Do you think mama can convince her?”

  “Ha! Your mama can convince anyone of anything. Look at me. Thirty-two years I have been doing that woman’s bidding and there is no sign of me stopping anytime soon.”

  Nick chuckled. His mother certainly was a force to be reckoned with.

  “Perhaps we should rejoin the ladies,” Nick suggested. He could not believe that after just an hour with his father he desperately wanted to see Gabriella again.

  “Yes, but Nick, I promise you, if you hurt that young lady ever again, I will switch your arse again—this time until the skin comes off.”

  Nick looked at the desk where his father had switched his backside the day he had called Lady Gabriella ugly. He winced at the mere thought.

  “I promise, my lord, I would cut out my own heart before I would knowingly hurt her.”

  “Good to hear, son. Now stop chastising yourself and let us go and see our lovely ladies.”

  Chapter 19

  “Have you seen this play performed before, my lady?” Nick asked as he ushered her to their seat in the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.

  “No, we studied it at finishing school, but I have never seen a performance of it.”

  “I always think it much better to see a play performed at the theatre than to study it from a book, would you not agree?”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  Nick sat down beside her and awaited his pa
rents’ arrival. He glanced around the boxes opposite and saw rather a large number of ladies talking behind their fans. It was December—who needed a fan in December except to hide what was being said? But then the announcement of his and Gabriella’s engagement had been in this morning’s paper.

  “I see we are the topic of most conversations tonight. We seem to have usurped poor Mr Shakespeare.”

  “No doubt they are all expecting a happy event for us in seven or eight months,” Gabriella mused.

  “Do you think?” Nick asked, astounded and amused by both her forthrightness and her lack of faith in their fellow humans.

  “Well, they do not think you are marrying me for my beauty. However, a man may be captivated by my breasts for an evening or two. You certainly look at them often enough.”

  “Gabby!”

  She grinned at him.

  “Do not look so scandalised, my lord. No one can hear. Your parents shall not get away from the Duke of Eckminster for quite some time. We may never see them again, for that matter.”

  Nick laughed. “You are incorrigible my lady. If these people knew you as I know you, they would know I was marrying you for your mind and your personality as much as for your beauty and your breasts.”

  “Nick!” The countess’s voice behind him made him wince. Devil take it! Why was it that Gabriella could talk about her breasts and not be caught but the moment he said it, his mother overheard. “Really, what an inappropriate subject. Anyone could have overheard you. Lady Gabriella, I do apologise for my son.”

  He turned to find his bride-to-be with her own fan in front of her face, her skin beetroot-coloured and her eyes glinting in merriment as she suppressed her laughter. As the curtain rose, Gabriella seemed to calm down. She leaned close to him, her fan raised and whispered, “I believe we are now even for you calling me ugly. Next we must deal with the strawberry jam remark.”

  “Touché,” he muttered as he turned his attention to the stage—anything to stop his gaze drifting back to her décolletage. She definitely had a very generous set of breasts which was one of her attributes that seemed to be keeping him awake at nights. He settled back in his seat. He really could not wait until Christmas. Then he could keep her awake at night… all night.

  “Would you like a drink?” Nick asked Gabriella as the curtain lowered at the end of Act One.

  “I would, thank you.” Nick hurried away after offering a drink to both his parents. She was about to turn to speak to Lady Chetfern when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “Gabriella!” She turned to look into the cold gaze of her brother.

  “Joseph! How, umm, lovely to see you. How is Lady Thornwich?”

  “At home in Thornwich, resting. She is rather overset that your wedding cannot wait until after the baby has been born.”

  “The baby is not due until April.”

  “Yes, but she is aware that people can tell she is increasing.”

  “Of course they can. It is a perfectly natural state, you know.”

  “Gabriella, if you cannot say anything kind about my wife, I should prefer you say nothing at all.”

  Whenever Gabriella said anything to upset Joseph, he chastised her as though she was a naughty schoolgirl. She gritted her teeth and smiled pleasantly at her brother.

  “Did you want to speak to me about anything in particular?”

  “Yes, come for a short walk with me.”

  She looked around but Nick had not arrived back yet and Lady Chetfern was involved in a conversation with a lady whom Gabriella was unable to place. She nodded and followed her brother out of the box.

  “I feel it is my duty to let you know about a wager between your betrothed and myself,” the Earl of Thornwich began. Gabriella tried not to roll her eyes.

  “Oh, you do?”

  “Yes, you see, I was rather stupid, Gabs, and I was utterly foxed. Eastden and I wagered he could not get you to marry him before Christmas. I know it was awful of me but I saw no harm in it. I thought it was a jest and now I see the announcement in the paper. I feel it is my duty to…”

  “Unhand me, woman!” Nick’s voice came from behind the door of a box they were passing. She would recognise his deep sound anywhere. “Mmmmm, let me gmmmmm!”

  Joseph pulled open the door to reveal Nick and a woman struggling with each other, her lips plastered over his and her hand on his breeches, over his male parts. Joseph looked over his shoulder at Gabriella then shut the door quickly. Angry, hissed words were all Gabriella could hear from behind the door. She could feel the heat of a blush creeping up her cheeks but she swallowed hard and determined not to show any signs of emotion.

  “Oh, dear. Well, it does seem as if Lord Eastden is pre-empting your vows with Miss Wainwright,” Joseph drawled. “Look, Gabs, tell me you want out of this engagement and I will go in there and tell him you want nothing more to do with him. I shall take you home to the townhouse and tomorrow you’ll be back at Thornwich sorting out my ledgers. The scandal will die down by… oh, around 1850, I should think.”

  “Thank you, Joseph,” said Gabriella, turning towards the door of the box as it opened. Clearly the box had been empty and Miss Wainwright and Nick had been hiding behind the heavy curtain which excluded the draughts.

  Nick tugged on his waistcoat and smiled slightly at Gabriella.

  “Would you like me to accompany you back to my parents, Lady Gabriella?” His cheeks were scarlet but his eyes were dark with pent-up anger.

  “Yes, thank you,” she said. “Goodbye, Joseph.”

  Gabriella turned and accepted Nick’s outstretched arm, placing her fingers delicately on his sleeve before walking away. Her blood was boiling, but not with Nick and instead with her scheming idiot of a brother. Sadly, Nick was going to have to be collateral damage at least for the next few hours. She forced her face to look impassive and hated the tension she could feel along her betrothed’s arm. Her heart went out to him but she could apologise later.

  Devil take it! What on earth had he been thinking? He should have known Miss Abigail Wainwright would be up to no good. She had accosted him as he had hurried to get lemonade for Gabriella, telling him that Lord Thornwich needed to speak to him urgently. He had followed her into the box and she had pounced. He had tried to disentangle himself gently at first but that had been his second mistake. Being a gentleman with the likes of Miss Wainwright was a fool’s errand, for she was no lady.

  Just as he had decided he needed to be a little rougher to extricate himself from her grasp, the door had opened and Thornwich had been grinning at him. Joseph had then checked that his sister had seen the full horror of the encounter and closed the door.

  He had been set up.

  “Gabriella,” he started but she raised her free hand in a gesture that suggested she did not want to hear excuses. “Please, Gabriella.” With her head held high, she made the same gesture again. Perhaps it was best to let her be for now.

  They resumed their seats just as the performance was starting again.

  At the end of Act Two, Nick was in a terrible state. He had gone over and over the wording of every apology he could think of, every excuse he could make for his downright stupidity and every promise he could make to Gabriella to assure him of his desire to be a faithful husband.

  When the curtain lowered this time, Nick’s father offered to get the ladies drinks and Lady Chetfern excused herself.

  “Gabriella,” he said quietly, “that looked very bad but I assure you I was tricked into joining Miss Wainwright in that box. She grabbed me and I tried to be a gentleman and ease myself away from her gently but then you came in and…”

  “Nick, please, I beg of you. Speak of it no more for now. Come back to your parents’ townhouse after the performance and we will discuss it then.”

  “No one else is in the box and I need you to understand what was going on.”

  “Oh Nick, I know very well what was going on. Now here is your father. Keep the hangdog expression. It is working we
ll.”

  Nick frowned at his betrothed. Keep the hangdog expression? It is working well? What in blazes did she mean?

  This was going to be a terminable few hours.

  Nick followed his betrothed into the blue drawing room of his parents’ townhouse, a knot of dread in his stomach. Surely she would at least hear him out and allow him to share his side of the story.

  Gabriella turned and gave his mother a reassuring smile. He glanced round to see his mother nod and indicate the doors. Of course they would leave the doors open. Moments later he heard the door to his mother’s morning room open. He waited. Gabriella took a seat on a chaise near the fire and indicated he should sit opposite from her.

  “Before we start, I owe you an apology,” Gabriella said quietly. Nick was sure his eyebrows had just met his hairline he was so astonished. Why would she think she owed him an apology? “I felt it important you look as uncomfortable and worried about my reaction to the… predicament in which we found you… as possible.”

  “Gabriella, I assure you…” But she held her hand up to halt his words again. Frustration was beginning to get the better of him. He huffed out a breath, further annoyed by the fact he suspected he had not made a sound like that since before going to Eton.

  “My brother seems to think I am an imbecile. I don’t know if he believes this mark on my cheek is a sign that my brain does not work properly, but he has always treated me like a halfwit. I know that you were set up but I did not want him to know his ploy had not worked out.”

  “You knew?” A mixture of relief and irritation washed over him. He’d been at that theatre for four hours contemplating his fate, wishing he too could have died at the hands of Brutus, only for her to tell him that she knew he had been set up.