A Valentine For Christmas - A Regency Novella (4 page)

‘I see,’ Mama murmured, although she appeared puzzled.

‘We shall manage perfectly well,’ his lordship said again, quickly. Charlie had the impression he had rather rushed into the breach. ‘It is very pleasant to have my cousin pay a visit but trust me when I say, I do not crave more relatives.’

‘That is because you have never experienced the pleasures of a large family,’ Mama observed sweetly, making Charlie smile. ‘The blessings are manifest.’

His lordship glanced around the circle of faces once again, evaluating just how manifest it might be. If his expression was anything to go by, she rather thought he might pass on the experience. ‘I am sure you are right.’

The door opened and Papa, James and Harry returned, brushing flakes of snow out of their hair, faces flushed with the cold. Everybody knew that all three would have gone to assist the retrieval of the coach but clearly the thought had not occurred to their guest who rose to his feet immediately, a frown on his face. ‘My wits must have been wool gathering. My profound apologies, Mr. Weathering. I should not have left it to you and your family to face the elements and retrieve my carriage.’ There could be no doubting his sincerity. He was genuinely mortified and Charlie’s mental balance sheet of his lordship’s virtues and flaws rose in the positive column. He might be inclined to surliness when his family was mentioned but he was not high in the instep when it came to lending assistance. Which, she reflected wryly, was just as well. The Weathering’s may be rich in family but seven children meant that family was
all
they were rich in. An aged butler, three young maids, an arthritic gardener and a groom were all of the servants they possessed.

Of course Papa was having none of his lordship’s dismay.

‘Nonsense,’ in his own way, he was every bit as placid as Mama. ‘The boys came along and it is all arranged now. I will have one of my people ride into Brougham tomorrow – it is larger than Barrow’s Cross – and bring back the necessary things required to repair it. My groom can manage the repairs himself so you’ll have no trouble there. Unfortunately, you will not be able to use your carriage for several days.’

‘Has Miss du Pont’s maid arranged for her luggage?’ Mama inquired.

Madeleine du Pont looked up quickly but it was Lord Valentine who spoke, smooth as silk. ‘Actually, Madeleine’s maid went ahead with my valet yesterday, along with the other servants. To prepare the house before our arrival.’

‘Oh. Well I am sure that Meg will be happy to help you my dear. She does for most of us, although Charlotte will have to have one of her own when she goes up to London.’

‘
If
she goes up to London,’ Anne inserted quickly. ‘Aunt Sophia has not said yes yet.’

‘I’m sure she will. In the meantime, perhaps you would like to be shown to your rooms to freshen up?’ Mama smiled at each of the new arrivals in turn. ‘We dine in half an hour.’

‘So early?’ Madeleine grimaced.

‘Country hours, my dear.’

‘You are very kind, Mrs. Weathering,’ his lordship said, with a quick look at his cousin. ‘We are very much in your debt. Tomorrow I will undertake to ride into this Brougham myself. You have all done far too much already.

‘
If
you can ride in,’ James said. He and Harry had been uncharacteristically quiet up until now, caught up in silent admiration for the diamond of the first water that had fallen into their mother’s drawing room but James, at least, was regrouping. ‘I do believe there is worse to come. The roads may not be passable.’

‘Let’s hope that you are wrong. If I can, I will arrange for what is required to be delivered. Although I am afraid I will be leaving you with a broken carriage.’

‘I am sure that you can return for it after the holiday,’ Papa said cheerfully.

‘He has no family,’ Mama told him softly. ‘Only his cousin, Miss du Pont. They were going to spend Christmas at Lord Valentine’s family estate.’

Charlie watched the subtle shift of expression on her father’s face. Thaddeus Weathering was a great believer in family. ‘Dear me.’

‘You must both stay here with us,’ Mama said, giving Lord Valentine and Madeleine du Pont a smile. ‘We are having a very quiet Christmas this year. Just the family.’

Madeleine looked alarmed by the prospect but it was his lordship’s reaction that Charlie was interested in. She watched as Lord Valentine glanced around him at the circle of faces. She had a suspicion that this was not
his
idea of a quiet anything but he could hardly say so. Instead he gave Mama a smile in return, although it was not quite as glowing. ‘That is very kind of you, but we cannot possibly impose. Especially not at this time of year,’ he added, a little grimly.

Mama shook her head, not in the least bit deterred. ‘We would be delighted to have you. Wouldn’t we, Mr. Weathering?’

‘Indeed, we would, Mrs. Weathering,’ Papa agreed. ‘Anne, run and let Cook know that there will be two more for dinner and extra required for his lordship’s people. Early to bed, early to rise,’ he explained, as his second eldest daughter left the room, then echoed his wife’s earlier utterance. ‘Country ways.’

Lord Valentine stood hesitating. He was clearly at a loss to know how to manage this situation, Charlie decided. On one hand, he and his cousin were well and truly stranded with night falling rapidly and a storm in progress. On the other… the eldest Weathering daughter gave an inward grin. On the
other
hand, there were the Weatherings, en masse. She watched him as he reluctantly accepted his fate. He gave an elegant bow to his host and hostess.

‘You are really very kind. I am sure that my cousin and I would be delighted to accept your hospitality. Isn’t that right, Madeleine?’

‘
Oui
,’ Madeleine agreed, although her face said something entirely different. ‘
Echanté
.’

And that, Charlie thought with considerable amusement, was likely to be the biggest bag of moonshine she would be hearing all night.

He doubted he would ever forget his first sight of the Weatherings. Two older people sitting by the fire and a gaggle of youngsters playing a game. He should have turned around and walked out immediately when he had seen the tall, thin boy wearing the most peculiar set of ears set on a kind of coronet. And then there had been the girl, blindfold across her eyes as her arms had swept in wide arcs around her.

Oh yes indeed. He should have turned tail and fled while he still had a chance.

Valentine stood at the window of the bedroom he had been given and stared out at the night. What he could see of it. Mostly it was just flurries of snow blowing past the window. He certainly couldn’t see anything of the gardens that must lie below. Much more of this and they would be snowed in.

He almost groaned out loud at the thought. Snowed in with Madeleine
here
.

What a charming, kind, exasperating family. Seven children and their parents who seemed quite insanely placid considering they had so many progeny. If he could have selected any family in the county to fall in with, the Weatherings would have been the last on a very long list. And now he and Madeleine were stranded here and he was in the perfidious position of ensuring his volatile mistress behaved herself. She was clearly unhappy about the situation and as persuasive as he could be, there was no depending on the girl’s discretion. Madeleine du Pont was known for her beauty, not her subtly. He could promise her all the diamonds in the world but there was no guarantee that she would remember to earn them. It was only a matter of time before she forgot her role. Despite the fact that she had never discussed it, Valentine had the suspicion that her beginnings had been both poor and relatively humble, staring on the less fashionable streets of Paris. It would certainly explain her extraordinary avarice. To have come from nothing and wake up every morning, knowing that one day, looks were no longer going to serve… well, perhaps her greed was understandable.

If only her venal nature was accompanied by a more thorough understanding of those around her. Unfortunately Madeleine du Pont was a very shortsighted creature.

Now, they were about to go down to a dinner that he was almost certain would be controlled madness from start to finish. Four sons and three daughters. Dear God. Although it must be said that the eldest Miss Weathering was a fine looking creature. Not that he was in the least bit interested in such distractions. He had more than enough to contend with at the moment without having some country miss with delightfully dark blue eyes taking his attention. He needed his attention firmly focused if he were going to escape from this appalling adventure with his reputation and his sanity intact. A man did
not
bring his mistress into a house of any repute. And the Weathering household might be many things, but it was undoubtedly the household of a gentleman.

So, he would pay the eldest Miss Weathering only the most unexceptional attention. She was not his type anyway. He had always preferred fair-haired females although, it must be admitted, Charlotte Weathering’s dark curls combined with those smiling eyes were an eye-catching combination. But, like the rest of her siblings, the girl had been quite happy to stare like a country bumpkin at the new arrivals while the lady of the house interrogated them. In the wilds of Cambridgeshire (or was it Norfolk?) he supposed he could expect nothing less. He remembered, quite unexpectedly, the way the chit had seized hold of him, arms tightening as she held him close. It had been a foolish game for children, no doubt, but he had liked the scent of flowers that had drifted up to tickle his nose so briefly.

Country bumpkin or not, Charlotte Weathering bore the enchanting scent of roses.

No matter. Seducing sweet innocents was hardly the way to repay kindness and, mad as his host and hostess might be, they were very generous to offer shelter so readily to a pair of strangers. And to share their Christmas lunch, he reflected grimly, which was sure to be jolly beyond belief. They could not know how much he abhorred the day itself and he certainly was not about to explain his aversion to them.

Without thinking, he ran a hand through his carefully ordered locks, disordering them. If Bishop, his valet, had witnessed such a shocking lapse he would have been horrified. But Bishop was not there. Instead, he had Madeleine and all the headaches her presence entailed. God only knew what would fall from those ripe red lips. Perhaps he could persuade her to stay in her room with a sick headache?

Doubtful.

Tomorrow was the twenty-forth of December. Christmas Eve. With luck, the snow would have stopped overnight and he could take a horse and ride into the nearest town. And there, one way or another, he would secure another carriage and ride back for Madeleine. The sooner he removed her, the happier he would be.

It was unlikely that they would be able to travel on to Norfolk yet, but he could secure lodgings for the twenty-fifth. Far better to spend the day quietly ensconced in some indifferent inn than deal with the noisome merriment of his fellow man. Madeleine was sure to be noisome enough. But at least they could keep each other distracted until the worst of the weather had passed.

He gave one last glance out the window before turning away. He just knew that the Weatherings would be the type of family to enjoy the day in full.

Pray God that the snow stopped and he could travel on the morrow.

It was his sole Christmas wish.

Chapter Three

The snow did
not
stop.

The next day dawned blinding white as frozen piles continued to accumulate, drifts chest high by morning. And it wasn’t just the snow. The wind cut like a blade, slicing through layers of clothing with vicious deliberation and making spending any time out of doors an unpleasant proposition.

Or so Charlie found when she let her Staffordshire terrier Vivaldi out to do its business the next morning. Both dog and girl retreated rapidly back inside, Charlie stamping her feet to shake off the snow, Vivaldi shaking his entire body for much the same reason. They hurried into the front parlor where a good fire was burning briskly. Vivaldi immediately lay on the rug, as close as he could get without actually laying on the hearth itself while his mistress maneuvered in beside him, eager for some warmth.

‘I’m not at all surprised at you hogging the best spot,’ she told him affectionately. ‘What a very unpleasant day!’

Holding her hands out to the flames, she wondered if their unexpected guests were up yet. Not Miss du Pont, she decided. She did not look like the type given to rising early. The girl had clearly found dinner to be a little overwhelming and had not endeared herself to either Anne or Merry. She had told Anne that her dress (a relatively new one that Anne was particularly fond of) would never do in Paris as it was not in the least bit
a la mode
and that Merry should speak when she was spoken to and to stop rolling her peas across the table. She had a point about the peas, Charlie conceded, but such comments were hardly likely to endear Miss du Pont to either of her younger sisters.

‘She is like Madam Cheron – so full of herself!’ Anne had hissed, incensed.

‘She’s nothing at all like her,’ Charlie had returned. ‘She certainly does not look like a middle aged widow.’

‘
You
know what I mean. Utterly vain puffed up with her own consequence.’

Charlie hadn’t known about that, although Miss du Pont did seem inordinately fond of preening. Mama always said, however, that one should not judge others too quickly. Perhaps Madeleine du Pont was a Heroine. She certainly had the looks for one.

As for Lord Valentine… she hadn’t know what to make of the man. His attention seemed to be divided as he kept a watchful eye on his cousin, while leaving half an ear on the conversational gambits directed towards him. It was skillfully done. No one would have noticed his distraction, if they weren’t particularly focused.

But Charlie
had
been focused, trying to work out what it was about Lord Valentine that tickled her conviction that all was not well with them man. His abstraction could have been for any number of reasons and yet she had sensed that whatever troubled him ran deep.