A Christmas Bride / A Christmas Beau (21 page)

Surprisingly he smiled and then actually chuckled aloud. She had spoken the words almost with tenderness.

Oh, yes, he would draw her farther into the terror—of their marriage, of her new family, of her proximity to children, of Christmas. She was right about one thing. He could be a ruthless man when his mind was set upon something. His mind was set upon something now. More than his mind—his heart was set upon it. He wanted a marriage with this woman.

A real marriage.

He had spotted her weakness now—she had handed him the knowledge on a platter. He was an expert—a ruthless expert—at finding out weaknesses and probing and worrying them until he had gained just what he wanted. He would have to say that Helena, Mrs. Edgar Downes, did not stand one chance in a million.

Except that she was quite irritatingly stubborn. A worthy opponent. He could not stand an opponent who cowered into submission at the first indication of the formidable nature of his foe. There was no challenge in such a fight. Helena was not such an opponent. She could still tell him she hated him, even while conceding a physical need for his arms to hold her.

“Shall I carry you the rest of the way?” he asked her, feeling her weariness.

“If you try it, Edgar,” she said, “I shall bar the door of
your bedchamber against you from this day forward and screech out most unladylike answers to anything you care to call through it. I shall shame you in front of your father and your sister and all these other nauseatingly respectable people. I am not a sack of potatoes to be lugged about merely because I have the despicable misfortune to be in a delicate condition and to be your property.”

“A simple no, thank you would have sufficed,” he said.

“I wish you were not so large,” she said. “I wish you were small and puny. I
hate
your largeness.”

“I believe,” he said as they stepped inside the house, “I have understood your message. Come. I’ll take you up and hold you while you sleep.”

“Oh, go away,” she said, dropping his arm, “and play billiards or drink port or do whatever it is you do to make another million pounds before Christmas. I have no need of you or of sleep either. I shall write some letters.”

“After you have rested,” he said firmly, taking her arm and drawing it through his again. “And if it is a real quarrel you are hankering for, Helena, I am almost in the mood to oblige you.” He led her toward the stairs.

“Damn you,” she said. “I am not. I am too weary.”

He chuckled again.

J
ACK
S
PERLING ARRIVED
at Mobley Abbey early in the afternoon, the Graingers just before teatime.

Jack was shown into the library on his arrival, and Edgar joined him there with his father.

“Sperling,” he said, inclining his head to the young man, who bowed to him. “I am pleased to see that you had a safe journey. This is the young gentleman I spoke of, Father.”

“Mr. Sperling.” The elder Mr. Downes frowned and looked him over from head to toe. “You are a very young gentleman.”

“I am two-and-twenty, sir,” the young man said, flushing.

“And I daresay that like most young gentlemen you like to spend money as fast as you can get your hands on it,” Mr. Downes said. “Or faster.”

The flush deepened. Jack squared his shoulders. “I have worked for my living for the past year, sir,” he said. “Everything I earn, everything I can spare from feeding myself and setting a roof over my head is used to pay off debts that I did not incur.”

“Yes, yes,” Mr. Downes said, his frown suggestive of irritation. “You are foolish enough to beggar yourself for the sake of an extravagant father, I daresay. For the sake of that ridiculous notion of a gentleman’s honor.”

The young man’s nostrils flared. “Sir,” he said, “with all due respect I will not hear my father insulted. And a gentleman’s honor is his most precious possession.”

Mr. Downes waved a dismissive hand. “If you work for my son and me, young man,” he said, “you may grow rich. But if you intend to spend your hard-earned pounds on paying a father’s debts, you are not the man for us. You will need more expensive and more fashionable clothes than those you are wearing and more than a decent roof over your head. You will need a wife who can do you credit in the business world. I believe you have a lady in mind. You will need to think of yourself, not of creditors to whom you owe nothing if you but forget about a gentleman’s honor. The opportunity is there. My son has already offered it and I am prepared to agree with him. But only if you are prepared to make yourself into a single-minded businessman. Are you?”

Jack had turned pale. He could work for these two powerful men, who knew how to be successful, how to
grow rich. As a gentleman with a gentleman’s education and experience as his father’s steward and more lately as a London clerk, he could be trained by them, groomed by them for rapid promotion until he was in a position to make his own independent fortune. It was the chance of a lifetime, a dream situation. He would be able to offer for Fanny Grainger. All he had to do was swallow a few principles and say yes.

Edgar watched his face. This was not an approach he would have taken himself. His father had grown up in a harsher world.

“No, sir.” Jack Sperling’s face was parchment white. The words were almost whispered. But they were quite unmistakable. “No, thank you, sir. I shall return to town by stage. I thank you for your time. And for yours, sir.” His eyes turned on Edgar.

“Why not?” Mr. Downes barked. “Because you are a
gentleman
, I suppose. Foolish puppy.”

“Yes, sir,” Jack said, very much on his dignity. “Because I am a gentleman and proud of it. I would rather starve as a gentleman, sir, than live as a rich man as a— As a—” He bowed abruptly. “Good day to you.”

“Sit down, Mr. Sperling,” Mr. Downes said, indicating a chair behind the young man. “My son judged you rightly, it seems. I might have known as much. We have business to discuss. Men who go into trade for the sole purpose of getting rich, even if it means turning their backs upon all their responsibilities and obligations and even if it means riding roughshod over the persons and livelihoods and feelings of everyone else—such men often do prosper. But they are not men I care to know or do business with. You are not such a man, it seems.”

Jack looked from him to Edgar.

“It was a test,” Edgar said, shrugging. “You have passed it.”

“I would have appreciated your trust, sir,” the young man said stiffly, “without the test. I am a gentleman.”

“And I am not, Mr. Sperling,” Mr. Downes said. “I am a businessman. Sit down. You are a fortunate young man. You know, I suppose, what gave my son the idea of taking you on as a bright prospect for our business.”

“Mr. Downes was obliged to marry Lady Stapleton,” Jack Sperling said, “and wished to reduce the humiliation to Miss Grainger, who expected his offer. Yes, I understand, sir.”

“It is in our interest to make you an acceptable groom for the lady,” Mr. Downes said, “who will be arriving here with her mama and papa before the day is out, I daresay.” Jack Sperling flushed again. “But make no mistake, young man. There is no question of your being paid off. We demand work of our employees.”

“I would not accept a single farthing that I had not earned, sir,” Jack said. “Or accept a bride who had been bought for me.”

“And about your father’s property,” Mr. Downes said. “Your
late
father?”

The young man inclined his head. “He died more than a year ago,” he said.

“And the property?” Mr. Downes was drumming the fingers of one hand on the arm of his chair. “It has been sold?”

“Not yet,” Jack said. “It is in a state of some dilapidation.”

“I am willing to buy it,” Mr. Downes said. “As an investment. As a business venture. When the time is right I will sell it again for a profit—or my son will if it is after my time. To you, Mr. Sperling. When you can afford to buy it. It will not come cheaply.”

Edgar noted the whiteness of the young man’s knuckles as his hands gripped the chair arms. “I would not expect it to, sir,” he said. “Thank you, sir.”

“We are good to our employees, Mr. Sperling,” Mr. Downes said. “We also expect a great deal of them.”

“Yes, sir.”

“For the next week, we will expect you to enjoy Christmas at Mobley and to court that young lady with great care. Her father does not know you are to be here unless you have informed the lady and she has informed him. He will not take kindly to a suitor who is to be a clerk in my son’s business until he has earned his first promotion—not when he expected my son himself.”

“No, sir.”

“He will perhaps be reconciled when he understands that you are a favored employee,” Mr. Downes continued. “One who is expected to rise rapidly in the business world and eventually rival us in wealth and influence. Being a gentleman himself, he will doubtless be even further reconciled when he knows that our business is to invest in buying and improving your father’s property with a view to preparing it as your country residence when you achieve stature in the company.”

The young man’s eyes closed tightly. “Yes, sir.”

Mr. Downes looked at his son. “I believe we have said everything that needs to be said.” He raised his eyebrows. “Have we forgotten anything?”

Edgar smiled. “I believe not,” he said. “Except to thank Mr. Sperling for his willingness to help me out of a tight spot.”

“You will go to Bristol when my son returns there after Christmas, then,” Mr. Downes said. “He will put you to work. For a trial period, it is to be understood. Pull the bell rope, will you please, Edgar? My butler will show you to your room, Mr. Sperling, and explain to you how to find the drawing room. We will be pleased to see you there for tea at four o’clock.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jack got to his feet and bowed. He
inclined his head to Edgar. He followed the butler from the room.

“I have never regretted my retirement,” Mr. Downes said after the door had closed behind them. He chuckled. “But it feels damned good to come out of it once in a while. I believe you judged his character well, Edgar. I thought for one moment that he was going to challenge me to a duel.”

“You were formidable.” Edgar laughed, too. “Poor young man. One almost forgot that he is the one doing me a favor.”

“One cannot afford to have weak employees merely as a favor, Edgar,” his father said. “That young man will do very nicely indeed if I am any judge of character. You do not regret the young lady?”

“I am married to Helena,” Edgar said rather stiffly.

“The answer you would give, of course,” his father said. “Damn it, Edgar, we did not go around bedding respectable women before marrying them in my day. I am disappointed in you. But you have done the right thing and one can only hope all will turn out for the best. She is a handsome woman and a woman of character. Though one wonders what she was about, allowing herself to be bedded and her a lady.”

“That is her concern, Father,” Edgar said firmly, “and mine.”

“The right answer again.” Mr. Downes rose to his feet. “I have promised to show Mrs. Cross the conservatory. A very ladylike person, Edgar. She reminds me of your mother, or the way your mother would have been.” He sighed. “Sometimes I let a few days go by without thinking about her. I must be getting old.”

“You must be forgiving yourself at last,” Edgar said quietly.

“Hmm.” His father led the way from the room.

T
HE
G
RAINGERS ARRIVED AT
M
OBLEY
A
BBEY IN
time to join the family and the other guests in the drawing room for tea. Helena had at first been rather surprised to find that they still planned to come for Christmas, even after learning of Edgar’s betrothal and imminent marriage to her. But it was not so very surprising after she had had time to think about it a little more.

The Graingers were not wealthy. It was very close to Christmas. If they admitted to their disappointment and returned to their own home, they would be compelled to go to the expense of celebrating the holiday there with all their expectations at an end. General opinion had it that Sir Webster would not be able to afford to take his daughter back to town for a Season. She would sink into spinsterhood and he would have the expense of her keep for the rest of his life.

They had lost the very wealthy Edgar Downes as a matrimonial prospect, but spending Christmas at Mobley Abbey would at least give them the chance of continuing in the company of several of the
ton
’s elite, of enjoying the hospitality of wealthy hosts, and of keeping their hopes alive for a little longer. In such a social setting, who knew what might turn up?

And so it was not so surprising after all that they had come, Helena thought, greeting them as they appeared
in the drawing room. They were gracious in their congratulations to her. Miss Grainger was quite warm in hers.

“Mrs. Downes,” she said. “I am very pleased for you. I am sure you will be happy. I like Mr. Downes,” she added and blushed.

Helena guessed that the girl was sincere. She would have married Edgar without a murmur of protest, but she would have been overwhelmed by him.

“Thank you,” she said and saw the girl almost at the same moment suddenly stare off to her right as if her eyes would pop from their sockets. She visibly paled.

“Oh,” she murmured almost inaudibly.

Edgar had come up and was greeting the Graingers. Helena linked her arm through Fanny’s. “Come and meet my father-in-law,” she said. He was speaking with Helena’s aunt and the young man who had arrived earlier. Helena had been introduced to him but had not had a chance to converse with him.

“Papa,” she said, “this is Miss Grainger, just lately arrived from London with her mama and papa.”

Fanny curtsied and focused the whole of her attention on Mr. Downes. It seemed to Helena that she was close to fainting.

“Ah,” Mr. Downes said heartily. “As pretty as a picture. Welcome to my home, Miss Grainger. And—Sir Webster and Lady Grainger?” Edgar had brought them across the room. “Welcome. You met Mrs. Cross in London, I daresay. Allow me to present Mr. Sperling, a young gentleman my son recently discovered in London as a particularly bright prospect for our business. We need gentlemen of education and breeding and enterprise to fill the more challenging positions and to rise to heights of responsibility and authority and wealth. I daresay that in five or ten years Mr. Sperling may make
me look like a pauper.” He rubbed his hands together and laughed merrily.