The Christmas Heiress (33 page)

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Authors: Adrienne Basso

BOOK: The Christmas Heiress
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Mr. Ross invited them inside and they entered
the comfortable house, the earl carrying the large
basket, which was covered with a pretty red cloth. A
fire blazed in the hearth and the smell of fresh gingerbread waffled through the air.

As he walked past Mrs. Ross, the baby in her arms
grabbed for the shiny buttons on the earl's coat,
managing to capture one in his chubby fist. His
mother gasped in horror and tried to pry the little
boy's fingers loose. Assuring her that no harm had
been done, the earl reached out slowly, as if the toddler was a wild animal that might easily startle, and
patted him gently on the head. "He is a fine boy, with
his mother's pretty eyes. You must be very proud."

Mrs. Ross smiled for the first time since they had
arrived and bade them to take a seat. They accepted
a cup of tea, so as not to be rude, and though they
were far from hungry, ate a slice of the freshly baked
gingerbread. The earl made a great fuss over Mrs.
Ross's baking talents, just as he had made a similar
fuss over all the baked goods they had consumed
that afternoon.

The children of the household, all five of them,
were chased from the room, but Charlotte could
see them peeking in, their eyes round with cautious
curiosity. Since they were mostly under the age of
ten, except for the oldest boy, she realized they had
probably never seen Edward until this moment.

"We have brought you a small Christmas offering," the earl announced as the visit came to an end.
"A token of good cheer to celebrate the season."

Charlotte was impressed with how Edward handled
the exchange, making it seem as if the family were
doing him a tremendous favor by accepting the gift. Mrs. Ross lifted the red cloth and exclaimed with sincere delight over its numerous contents, but it was
the gaily wrapped presents that drew the eyes of each
child.

"There is one for each of you, but you must promise to wait until Christmas morning to open them,"
the earl instructed.

They nodded solemnly, each child soon discerning which gift was their own. But it was young
Martin's reaction that truly touched Charlotte.
Though it was wrapped in fine brown paper and
tied with a red satin ribbon, it was easy to tell from
the size and shape of the package that Martin's gift
was books.

His eyes lit with pure delight as he held the package reverently, obviously thrilled with the selection
without even knowing the titles. Charlotte felt
pleased to have contributed in some small way to the
boy's Christmas delight.

A warm feeling settled over Charlotte on the
sleigh ride home. It felt good to do for others, to
share the bounty of Christmas, to be with Edward
as he gave something of himself to his tenants by
showing he held them in respect and with regard.
It had been fun to be welcomed with genuine
warmth by these good, hardworking families and
interesting to see the earl's interaction with them.

Charlotte initially thought that Edward might
become bored while at the manor, away from his
business office in London, removed from the one
thing that seemed to give him purpose and pleasure. But what was bred in the bones could not be
easily ignored. He had been pleasant and at ease,
even charming during the visits, a man relaxed in his element. It was that very charm that had first
turned her head and drew her to him.

"You are very quiet," Edward said. "What are you
thinking?"

The drowsy comfort of the warm feelings inside
her allowed Charlotte to loosen her guard and she
smiled. "I am thinking that I am very glad that
Grandpapa and I came to the manor for Christmas
this year."

He met her eyes and his answering smile was
heart-stopping. "So am I."

Charlotte expected that dinner that evening
might be simple fare, since the household was
preparing for the Christmas Eve ball tomorrow
night and Christmas day feast the following day. But
from the moment she took her seat at the long
dining table, with its chairs of burgundy velvet, she
was served as elaborate a meal as any she had eaten
since arriving at the manor.

There was the usual choice of two soups, three selections of fish, four different types of fowl, each
served in its own special wine sauce, along with a
large joint of beef roasted to perfection that the
earl carved himself at the table. Complementing
each course were numerous side dishes of potatoes
prepared several different ways and vegetables
swimming in rich butter and cream sauces.

Everyone ate heartily, their appetites no doubt
stimulated by the vigorous outdoor activity of the
morning and the fresh, cold air. But even the most
ravenous of appetites could barely make a dent in
the overabundance of food. Charlotte suspected these mountains of leftover food would most likely
be enjoyed by the staff later tonight and tomorrow.

The gentlemen elected to forgo their cigars and
brandy and joined the ladies as they left the dining
room. As the party crossed the hallway, the level of
happy chatter increased, blanketing the corridor.
Everyone entered the drawing room to discover
that two of the larger carpets had been rolled up
and carried out while they were eating their meal.
The countess then announced there would be
dancing for those who wished to participate.

Lady Anne cheerfully took her position at the
piano and began playing the first song. Edward appeared at Charlotte's side and claimed her hand. It
was at that moment she recognized the familiar
strains of the tune and realized she had never
danced a waltz before with the earl.

He took her right hand in his left and put his
other hand on her waist. His familiar, burning
touch had Charlotte tensing immediately. Though
she tried to prevent it, desire surged through her, a
hot tide that swept her into an ocean of passion and
need.

Edward's brow raised. "I think you have missed
me in your bed, dear Charlotte."

"Not overly," she lied.

He gave her a skeptical smile. "Your body tells me
differently."

Edward rocked forward in a gentle motion
before moving his feet and Charlotte had to fight
the urge to lean in to him, to press herself wantonly
and inappropriately close. He was right-she had
missed him in her bed, far more than she was
willing to admit.

They had revolved twice around the room before
Charlotte could catch her breath, before she could
even attempt to master the sensation of being once
again held in Edward's arms. Yet when she tried to
speak, to carry on a casual conversation, emotions
flooded and overpowered her, making words difficult to master and utter, like she was trying to capture fluffy snowflakes on a breeze.

She was too aware of him, too overpowered by
him. The subtle brush of his legs against the silk of
her gown, the intensity of his gaze as he looked
down at her, his attention so absorbed in her every
movement. Most unnerving of all, however, was
how his eyes remained locked on her face, keen,
observant and missing nothing.

"You dance very well," she finally managed to say.
"Do you especially enjoy the waltz?"

The faint curve of his lips suggested he was very
aware of the agitation of her heightened senses. "I
enjoy all things immensely when you are my partner."

She had predicted his answer in her mind, but
hearing the words fall from his lips excited her
almost unbearably, for they both knew he was not
only speaking of the dance.

Against her palm Charlotte could feel the tight
muscles of Edward's shoulder. The memory of him
without a shirt, without any clothes at all, flashed
across her mind. She knew the sleek contours of his
beautiful body, the tight muscles on his lean, strong
frame. Yet even more irresistible was his handsome
face, the bright, teasing eyes, the full, sensual lips,
the strong uncompromising jaw.

It beckoned to be kissed, just as his body called
out to be touched. She missed a step as the most insane urge to move her hand up to the back of his
neck and caress his hair in an intimate fashion entered her thoughts.

She missed another step and Edward pulled her
closer, helping her keep her balance so they would
avoid bumping into any of the other couples. Charlotte told herself to relax, to give herself over to
his care, but it was hard to relinquish the very thin
hold she had over her emotions.

She had often thought it would be more enjoyable to be the one who leads in a dance, instead of
the one who was pulled along, but at this moment
she appreciated the skill, strength and control of
her partner. Given the state of her current, heightened emotions, if she were in command she would
most likely lead them into the fireplace.

They reached the end of the makeshift dance
floor and Edward drew her even closer, sweeping her
into the tight turn without missing a step. Charlotte
felt the exhilaration within her flair, felt her skin
flush and prickle. The desire in his eyes let her know
what he was thinking, as they issued forth an invitation, a promise, that he almost dared her to take.

Resolved to finish their dance without totally disgracing herself, Charlotte bit her tongue and
looked over Edward's shoulder. She followed him
effortlessly into another turn, the feel of his broad
shoulder beneath her hand soothing her nerves.

She allowed herself to be drawn a fraction closer
and finally gave herself up to the pleasure of waltzing around the room in his arms. In an odd way
they were in their own private world, alone even in
the middle of a crowd. When she managed to look beyond the sexual tension, she found it was a comforting, special feeling.

Edward continued to hold her in his arms when
the dance ended, releasing his possessive grip on
her waist only after she gently reminded him the
music had ceased. She curtseyed her farewell, but
the earl grasped her hand, then raised it to his lips
and brushed a slow kiss over her knuckles.

His eyes, nearly golden in the candlelight, never
left hers. Charlotte's breath caught. Edward then
turned her hand and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss
to the top of her wrist, just above her glove.

It felt like a brand-hot, sensual, possessive. She
knew what he was saying, understood his male,
predatory need to mark her as his own. The atmosphere between them thickened, growing heavy
with unspoken emotion.

"My dance, I believe, Worthington."

Lord Reginald's voice cut through Charlotte's
haze, effectively breaking the spell. With a guilty
flush she took her grandfather's arm, but when he
realized the next set was a lively quadrille, Lord
Reginald begged off and asked instead that she sit
out the dance with him.

Relieved to be off the dance floor, Charlotte willingly accompanied her grandfather to a quiet corner.

"The countess mentioned that you were out with
the earl for the better part of the afternoon. Did you
go into town, perchance, to complete any lastminute Christmas shopping?"

"No, Grandpapa, we were visiting some of the
tenant farms and delivering the holiday baskets."

"Ah, so your shopping is done? Good, very good.
After all, tomorrow is Christmas Eve. It is never wise to wait until the very last minute to attend to these
sort of important matters."

Charlotte tried to suppress a snort of laughter.
His eagerness reminded her of the Ross children,
so visibly excited when they caught a glimpse of
their special holiday treats. "I can assure you, there
is no need to worry, Grandpapa. Even though we
are not at home, you will receive your usual gifts."

"A newly embroidered handkerchief?" Lord
Reginald asked good-humoredly.

Charlotte folded her hands primly in front of
her and lifted her chin. "I'm not saying. 'Tis to be
a surprise."

"Do not be impudent, little miss," he said, dropping his voice so that it would not carry. "It ill becomes you.

Charlotte stared at her grandfather for a moment,
then burst into giggles. Lord Reginald soon followed. "Shh, we must not appear to be having too
much fun or else the wrong people willjoin us."

"The wrong people?"

"Like Lady Florence."

Charlotte frowned, but then remembered that
her grandfather had been seated next to Lady Florence during dinner and the few times Charlotte
had glanced in his direction she had noticed that
the older woman had closely attended to Lord Reginald's conversation.

"Have you made a conquest, Grandpapa?"

Lord Reginald's face contorted into a comical
look of horror. "I sincerely hope not." He lowered
his voice further. "She is fine lady, of course, but my
main fear is that she will seat herself with us and we
shall be held hostage and forced to listen to the minutest details from her latest bird-watching
expedition in Scotland."

"Hmm, that does not sound pleasant."

"Trust me, 'tis torturous."

Lord Bradford interrupted and requested the
pleasure of the next dance and Charlotte accepted,
deciding it might be wise to separate from her
grandfather. She encouraged Lord Reginald to join
in one of the card games and he kissed her cheek
in gratitude, declaring she was a brilliant girl.

Lady Florence apparently did not enjoy cards.

The dance with ford Bradford was sedate and
fun and she felt her calm returning. She danced
next with Lord Haddon and after that with Mr.
Dunaway. Out of the corner of her eye Charlotte
noticed the earl approaching, but she managed to
evade him and he ended up being partnered with
Lady Haddon.

It was easier than turning him down, for she had
already decided she would refuse if Edward asked
her again, knowing she would not be able to keep
her composure through another dance.

A sharp pinch at her wrist reminded Charlotte of the
note, meant for Jonathan, that Evelyn had slipped to her
after dinner. Charlotte had folded it to a very small size
and pressed it inside the top of her glove to keep it safe.

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