A Christmas Affair (8 page)

Her willingness to tolerate his poor humor vanished at these words. “I sent him to bed, Colonel,” she replied, her tones every bit as crisp as his. “We were up half the night nursing you, and the poor man was quite fagged. If you require any assistance, you have only to ring for the footman.”

Justin ignored her cool offer, his brows gathering at what he considered to be the most pertinent piece of information. “ ‘We were up,’” he repeated, his expression darkening as he glared at her. “Am I to understand that
you
helped care for me?”

“Well, you needn’t look so outraged, sir!” Amanda snapped indignantly. “I am your hostess, and it was my duty to see that you received every care. One of the servants was always present, so there was nothing in the least bit untoward about the situation if that is what you are so concerned about.”

“I wasn’t questioning the propriety of it all,” he gritted, feeling faintly harassed by her bellicose manners. “But I can not help but wonder at your lack of sensibility! Did it never occur to you that no man would wish his hostess to see him in such a state?”

“Stuff!” Amanda retorted, tossing her head back defiantly.
“For your information, Colonel, I have nursed my mother my brothers and sisters, and any number of neighbors and acquaintances through a variety of diseases, and I still hold each of them in the highest regard! Although,” she added, as her temper gave way to impishness, “you are the first of my patients to have attacked me.”

Justin’s face paled with shock. “What the devil are you talking about?” he demanded, a feeling of horror washing over him as a particularly vivid memory flashed in his mind.

“Nothing” she denied quickly, embarrassed that her teasing words caused him such distress. “I-I was only funning you.”

“No.” He moved his dark head restlessly on the pillow, recalling the dream where he had been back in that damned hospital in Spain. The doctors had him tied down and they were going to . . . He shook off the sickening memory, his gaze fastening to her face with a burning intensity. “What happened?”

In the light of his stark plea there was naught she could do but give him the truth he demanded. “You were hallucinating,” she said quietly, tearing her eyes away from his molten gold gaze. “You thought I was going to hurt you, and you grabbed me ’round the throat. That’s all.”

Justin’s eyes closed briefly, and when he opened them they held an anguish that made Amanda want to cry out in pain. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice strained.

“Of course not! I told you, it was noth —”

“Take off your scarf.”

Amanda blinked at the terse command. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, take off your scarf,” he repeated, infusing every ounce of his considerable will into the command. He had noted the paisley scarf tied around her throat the moment she had entered the room, but other than wondering why
she wore it in such an odd fashion, he hadn’t given it another thought.

“Really, Colonel Stockton, you forget yourself!” She bristled, embarrassed and annoyed by his clipped order. “I shall do no such thing.”

“If you don’t, I will” he threatened, his voice soft with menace. “I may be incapacitated, Miss Lawrence, but I’m far from helpless.”

And so he was, curse him, Amanda thought, glaring at him with mounting indignation. She could see the power and determination reflected in the amber depths of his eyes and knew that he wouldn’t hesitate acting on his threat. Telling herself that she was only humoring a sick and sulky guest, she untied the scarf, exposing her throat to his intense scrutiny.

“Oh, God.” Justin’s stomach lurched at the sight of the bruises marring her soft, alabaster skin. He reached out a tentative hand, wanting to smooth away the marks his fingers had left, but there was nothing he could do. His hand fell to his side, curling into a tight fist.

“I’m sorry.”

Amanda’s anger evaporated at his hoarse apology. “Don’t be absurd,” she said softly, retying the scarf about her neck. “You thought I was about to cut off your arm; how could you do other than defend yourself? Believe me, had I been in your place, you may be quite sure I would have fought like the very devil.”

“I make no doubt of it, ma’am,” Justin replied, grateful for her wry humor. “You struck me as a most formidable woman from the first moment I clapped eyes on you.”

“Ah yes, the veriest virago, or so Daniel always called me.” Amanda laughed, her face softening at the thought of her younger brother’s relentless teasing. Then another thought came to mind, and her smile faded as she met Justin’s eyes. “He. . . he wasn’t operated on, was he?” she
asked, her voice shaking with horror. “Williams described those dreadful hospitals in Spain, and I have been picturing him—”

“No,” Justin interrupted, and this time when he reached out a hand, it closed comfortingly around hers. “No,” he repeated gently, his eyes gazing deeply into hers. “He died on the battlefield. He was at peace, and his last thoughts were of you.”

Speech was impossible just then, and so Amanda simply returned the pressure of his warm hand, blinking rapidly against the tears that scalded her eyes.

“Jeremey tells me Daniel’s services are to be held on Thursday,” Justin continued, wisely giving Amanda time to compose herself. At her silent nod he added, “Here?”

“At Godstone.” Amanda found her voice at last. “It is the nearest village.”

“I had thought to leave on the morrow,” he continued, rapidly adjusting his schedule in light of his promise to the boys. “But I suppose ’tis possible to delay my departure for a few days, provided the weather is cooperative,” he added, recalling the heavy snows that had made his journey from Portsmouth so difficult.

“Leave?” Amanda cried, staring at him as if he had taken leave of his senses. “Are you mad? You were all but at death’s door yesterday! Surely you can not be so foolhardy as to risk a relapse? I forbid it.”

Now it was Justin’s turn to gape at her. “I beg your pardon?” he said weakly.

“I forbid you to leave,” she said, her voice unconsciously taking on the same hectoring tone she used toward her brothers. “You are still in a weakened state, and I will not have you racketing about the countryside.”

Justin’s first impulse was to tell her to go to the devil, but since he had never spoken to a lady in such blunt terms, he quickly restrained himself. Instead, he fixed her with a
quelling look that had been known to make even the most battle-hardened troops quail in fear. “Your concern for my welfare does you proud, Miss Lawrence,” he said, his soft voice in direct contrast to the fury blazing inside him. “But you are far off the mark if you think I will tolerate such insolent familiarity. I am not one of your brothers to be bullied and ordered about, and I will do as I see fit. I trust I have made myself clear?”

The sight of those perfectly shaped, dark eyebrows arching in haughty condescension made Amanda’s temper flare, and her eyes rested wistfully on the carafe of water sitting on the table. No, she decided unhappily, it would not be at all the thing. Instead she drew herself upright, folding her arms across her chest and bending her most intimidating scowl on him. “You may not be so young as Jeremey and Jocelyn,” she told him coolly, “but you are every bit as foolish! Why can you not accept the simple fact that you are ill? You can not go.”

“And you can not make me stay.” As a retort, it left much to be desired, but it was all Justin could muster at the moment.

Amanda’s eyes took on a dangerous glow. “Can I not?” she challenged softly. “I shouldn’t be so certain of that.”

“You are a hell-cat without equal!” he fairly shouted, losing all semblance of control. “I don’t doubt that you are unmarried; what man with any wit would have you?”

“And you are an arrogant poppinjay whose foolishness is only surpassed by his opinion of himself,” she returned heatedly. “Is your vanity really so important to you that you would rather court death than do as I am suggesting?”

“You are not suggesting, ma’am,” he snarled, a lock of dark hair falling across his brow as he glared up at her. “You are
ordering!”

“And of course as a colonel of the Regiment it would never do for you to follow another’s instructions!” she jibed,
shooting him a look of acute dislike. “I suppose it would be another story had I wrapped my wishes in pretty linen, simpering and smiling at you like some foolish Bath miss!”

He returned her look tenfold. “Perhaps it would be,” he drawled, his tone both mocking and challenging. “But we’ll never know . . . will we?”

Amanda swallowed her ire, knowing he was right. Much as it galled her, she knew that if she wished him to stay, it was up to her to apologize. Pride warred briefly with her innate sense of right and wrong, and pride lost. Drawing a deep breath, she raised her chin and said, “It would please both my family and me if you would do us the honor of spending the holidays with us,” she began, meeting his gaze with a quiet dignity. “Please say you will stay.”

Justin stared at her in surprise. He had been expecting her to ask him to remain a week, perhaps even a sennight, but until Christmas . . . he should have known to expect the unexpected from her.

“If . . . if you have other plans, I will understand,” she said quickly, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment as he remained silent. “You mentioned something about going to your ancestral home for Christmas. . . .”

“Stonebridge,” he provided, thinking of the huge, impressive pile of stones that had been home to his family for over a hundred years. With Edward remaining in London for the holiday season, the house would be all but deserted. There would be the servants, of course, but most of them were from the nearby village and home farm, and so had family in the area and would doubtlessly be spending the day with them.

He remembered the last Christmas he’d spent at Stonebridge, shortly before being posted to the Peninsula. He’d spent a lonely Christmas Eve sitting in the family pew of the nearby church, and an even lonelier Christmas day eating his dinner in the solitary splendor of the ancestral din
ing room. His suggestion that Cook prepare a simple tray for him had been met with cries of horror, and he had a sinking feeling it would be the same this year. It was tradition; just as it was the tradition that the older son become the next duke, while the younger son went into the army.

Tradition. Duty. Honor. These were the bywords by which he lived his life. They gave him a sense of continuity, of belonging, and he hoped he would never do anything to compromise these values that he held so dear. But this once he wanted to do something for himself, and for no other reason than the fact it was what he wanted to do.

“Thank you for your invitation, Miss Lawrence,” he said, inclining his head to her with grave courtesy. “It would be my pleasure.”

Chapter Five

After spending a restful evening, Justin was up early the next morning. Except for a lingering weakness, he was over the worst effects of the fever, and despite William’s vociferous objections, he insisted upon joining his imperious hostess and her charming family for tea. Besides, he was eager to meet with young Stephen, who, according to the twins, had arrived early, that morning on the mail coach. The lad might be only fifteen, he thought, as he added the finishing touches to his cravat; but he was the man of the house now, and it was time he was apprised of his duties.

The family was already sitting in the parlor when Linsley announced his arrival, and Justin quickly motioned for everyone to remain seated as he took his place beside Miss Lawrence.

“Good afternoon, Miss Lawrence, everyone,” he said, inclining his head to the others. His eyes rested briefly on the young lad with dark blond hair whom he took to be Stephen. “Sir, I do not believe I have had the pleasure?”

“S-Stephen Blanchford, Colonel Stockton,” Stephen stammered, knocking over his chair as he scrambled to his feet. “P-pleased to make your acquaintance, my lord.” Then he bowed somewhat awkwardly, hitting the tea table with his outstretched hand and sending a platter of delica
cies flying.

“Oh, Stephen, do please sit down before you destroy something” Amanda reproved with a rueful shake of her head. The boy was as awkward as a young colt these days, and when nervous, he was a positive menace. She turned to Justin and was surprised to find him regarding her with a disapproving frown gathering his dark brows together. Good heavens, whatever could have set his back up this time, she wondered, although she was careful to keep her own expression pleasantly polite.

“I am happy that you have joined us, sir” she said smoothly. “I trust this means you are recovered from your illness?”

“Quite recovered, ma’am, and feeling decidedly peckish,” he answered, vowing to have a word with her at the earliest opportunity. The dratted female might regard her younger brother as scarcely out of short breeches, but that still did not give her the right to embarrass him in front of company. He turned his attention to the twins, and after greeting them, he glanced next at the two blond chits sitting on the settee and regarding him with wide blue eyes.

The younger girl looked to be seven or eight, and as she shyly returned his smile, Justin noted she was missing a few front teeth. The other girl suffered no such disfigurement. She was, in fact, just as beautiful as he remembered, with a mass of golden ringlets surrounding the perfect oval of her face. If Miss Lawrence’s fiery nature was betrayed by her bright red hair and snapping dark eyes, so were her sister’s sweetness and gentleness revealed by her dimpled smile and the demure way she lowered her eyes to avoid his.

“Miss Amelia,” he murmured, his smile warm as he gazed at her in appreciation. “I am pleased to see you again.”

“And I you, Colonel,” Amelia answered, feeling somewhat flustered by his admiring look. She was not so lack-witted that she did not know men found her lovely, but she nonetheless found it somewhat disconcerting to be stared at so frankly. As was the case whenever she was nervous, she turned to her elder sister for assistance.

“Have you told the colonel about Daniel’s service?” she asked, seizing upon the topic they had just been discussing. “I am sure he will wish to attend.”