Christmas Brides (Three Regency Novellas) (21 page)

A man could only sacrifice so much. Now that he was home to England for good, it was only right that he find a wife of his own class, a woman born to become a viscountess, not a country lass like her. It wasn't as if this were a
real
marriage at all. It had never been consummated.

She followed him down a wide corridor lit by wall sconces. They were nearly at the end before he paused at a door and opened it. "Your chambers, my lady." He waved her in.

She wished he would
not
refer to her as
my lady
. She felt far too much the usurper already, and now she could add fraud to her description. What a perfectly dreadful Christmas this was going to be.

The hearth in the chamber was much larger than one would expect in a bedchamber, but then this was a much larger bedchamber than any she had ever before seen. At the opposite end of the room an oil lamp burned beside the huge bed that was draped in purple velvet. The half of the room she stood in must serve as a sitting room. A settee faced the blazing fire, and a lovely writing desk faced a tall window that was also draped in purple velvet.

Fanny stole the words from her mouth. "Oh, it's beautiful!"

Elizabeth met his gaze. "I am very sorry, my lord, I'm the cause of your mother being driven from her chambers."

His features seemed even darker in firelight. "We have much to talk about."

"Then I must first put Fanny to bed." She saw that her valise had already been placed in the room. She opened it and procured a warm night gown for the little girl and instructed her to get ready for bed.

"Then will you tell me a story?" Fanny asked.

"We shall see, love. You must be very quiet for I need to speak to Lord Broxbourne first."

Elizabeth felt incredibly awkward being in a bedchamber with the viscount. She must block from her mind that portion of the room where the bed was. "Please be seated, my lord."

As she came to sit next to him on the settee, her trembling increased, but her determination to resolve this embarrassing situation overrode any personal embarrassment. "I shouldn't have come," she began. "I assure you I have no desire to be a viscountess. My only motivation in coming here was Fanny."

He nodded thoughtfully, his pensive face otherwise inscrutable. "What exactly did you tell my family about her?" He had lowered his voice so the child could not hear them discussing her.

"I did not know what you wanted to say about her, so I told them she was my child—which is how I feel about her. Unfortunately, your mother asked her how old she is, and Fanny was quick to tell her she was two and a half." She put index finger to her lips, got up and tiptoed toward the bed. Fanny was already fast asleep.

"Is she asleep?" he asked.

She nodded.

"So my mother knows Fanny was born before our wedding." He spoke in a soft voice, almost as if he were thinking aloud.

"No doubt, she thinks I'm a tart."

He chuckled. "My dear lady, I cannot believe anyone would think you a tart."

"One thing is for sure. They all must know she's yours. Did you notice how remarkably she resembles you?"

He nodded. "But fortunately, she's pretty."

"And she's ever so clever and a perfect angel."

"Spoken like a true mother."

"Which is exactly how I think of myself, and I warn you, my lord, I would put up the most tremendous fight the mighty Tate family has ever seen if one of you tries to take her away from me." That is why Elizabeth spent very little of the allowance Harry had provided for her. She feared she would need the money one day to procure legal services if the Tates ever tried to remove Fanny from her.

"Whoa!" He held up a palm. "I would be a most heartless creature were I to separate the poor child from her mother."

Elizabeth's shoulders sagged with relief. "I tried to explain to your solicitor that I did not want to come to Farley Manor, that I had no intentions of becoming the Viscountess Broxbourne, but he insisted. I have never been more astonished in my life than I was three days ago when I learned that you were the son of a viscount."

"Sorry. I suppose I should have told you a bit more about myself."

"Of course, neither of us believed we would ever meet again, and I never imagined I'd ever meet your family."

"And here you are!"

"What are we going to do? You must, of course, see to annulling the marriage."

His brows lowered. "Annul a holy sacrament?"

"I will own, I don't like the idea, but I'm hardly qualified to be a viscountess. You must be allowed to exercise your own free choice and select a proper lady to become Lady Broxbourne."

Those black eyes of his sparkled. "Do not disparage yourself. You are a proper lady."

"I am in no way qualified to serve as your viscountess. Do you realize this bedchamber is likely larger than the entire house in which I grew up?"

He shrugged. "So?"

"And look at the way I am dressed! I felt incredibly inferior next to your lovely sisters."

"That's ridiculous! As much as I love my sisters, I instantly perceived that you were the prettiest lady in the room."

Oh dear. She could feel the blush climbing into her cheeks. "I assure you, I looked exceedingly dowdy next to the impeccably dressed Tate family."

He touched the blue velvet of her sleeve and spoke in a husky voice. "This dress is lovely, but if you don't think it smart enough you are at liberty to remedy any wardrobe deficiencies. I assure you my unwed sisters have no qualms about spending Tate funds on their attire."

"That is not what I meant. You have been most generous already to me. If I chose to dress as a fine lady, I could. But I am not a fine lady."

Anger flashed across his face. "You malign the mother of my child."

She couldn't help it. She had to smile. "You are behaving most gallantly, my lord, but I cannot allow you to throw away your future happiness by accepting a wife from such humble origins." Oh, dear. Had he been terribly in love with Fanny's mother? Had he decided he would never love again? Is that why he could throw away his future with the likes of her?

He was a young man. He would find love again—with a woman who was of the
ton
, a woman who belonged at Farley Manor. "If only I hadn't come. You could have told your family I died, and you could have quietly annulled the marriage, then married a woman your family would be happy to accept as Lady Broxbourne."

"Yes, it would have simplified matters if you hadn't come."

"Then I will leave tonight."

Chapter 3

The clergyman's daughter most decidedly had a mind of her own. "You will not leave Farley in the middle of a snow storm!" he said. "At least, not with
my
daughter."

Those beautiful blue eyes of hers narrowed. "How dare you use that child in such a way!"

"I have as much to say about her welfare as you do. Would you endanger her in that manner?"

The rigidity in her shoulders collapsed. "No, I don't suppose I could. And I wouldn't leave without her, either. But I am most willing to leave at the earliest opportunity."

"I think not."

"Why?"

"It just won't do. Don't you see, you're a proper lady, and it will appear that I've compromised you. I can't live with such a stain."

"It's not as if anyone who knows you knows me."

"Nevertheless, you're not the sort of woman whose reputation one ruins." He got to his feet. "And now, madam, I shall go to my room to sleep." He started toward a door next to the chimney piece.

She leapt to her feet, thrusting hands to waist. "Where do you think you're going?"

"The adjoining chamber happens to be my room!"

She stomped her foot. "You can't go yet. We must decide what we're going to tell your family tomorrow."

He glared at the maddening woman. "Tomorrow, madam, you will pretend to be my devoted wife."

Her mouth formed a perfect O as she angrily watched him storm from her chamber.

He wasn't sure how the capable staff had managed it, but his chamber was already warm from the blazing wood fire in the hearth, and fresh linens had been put on his bed. Damn but he was tired. It seemed almost incomprehensible that four days ago he'd been in Portugal and now here he was back at Farley Manor surrounded by all those he loved. Save his dear Papa, whom he gravely missed.

Having little Fanny here gave him a measure of happiness. It was right that upon his father's passing, the Tate blood would continue to flow into another generation. God, but the child was exquisite! How could he not acknowledge her? Of course, he would have to wait a bit. There were too many changes too fast at Farley.

Poor Mama was only now adjusting to Christmas without her mate. He liked to think she was happy to have her only son back home. He'd known as soon as he received her letter that he must return to Farley. Though her letter was full of bravado about Papa being in a better place and how she was managing very nicely in the dowager's wing without him, Harry could read between the lines. She needed him. And his unwed sisters needed him.

And, damn, but he was happy to be home.

Whether she knew it or not, Elizabeth needed him. As did the child.

It hurt him that there was nothing he could do to legitimize his natural child. He vowed to acknowledge her at the earliest opportunity, not publicly because illegitimacy could stain the poor creature, but she would be known as his beloved ward, with only those in his family knowing the full truth.

But should he allow his family—and even little Fanny herself—to think Elizabeth had given birth to her out of wedlock? He felt guilty that Elizabeth was being held culpable for sins he had committed. There was the fact, though, that she wished to claim Fanny as her own. What in the devil was best?

He extinguished the light and climbed beneath the covers of his bed that was draped in claret velvet. He could not remember the last time he had actually slept in a real bed. God, it felt good. As fatigued as he was, though, he was too keyed up to sleep. He was astonished that he'd nearly forgotten about Elizabeth's existence until he saw her in the drawing room of Farley Manor tonight. She looked as if she belonged there every bit as much as his sisters.

The very sight of her had awakened desires he had long denied. When he had stood at the doorway and gazed at Elizabeth's fair blond beauty as she hugged his precious child on her lap, powerful emotions had nearly swamped him.

And the child? She had completely captured his heart the moment she lifted those little arms to him.

It would take no effort on Elizabeth's part for him to become besotted over the beauty.

He recalled how profoundly he had been affected by her on the day of their wedding. Try as he might, he'd been unable to purge the vision of her loveliness as she stood at the altar beside him, plighting her life to his before God and man. During his beastly journey back to the Peninsula, her loveliness was emblazoned upon his memory in the same indestructible way a silversmith etches his mark on a fine sterling tray.

He had never allowed himself to dream of what it would have been like to truly be married to an angel like her. It would have been too painful to contemplate.

He was still stunned that his life had been spared, still reveling in the realization that he was back at Farley Manor for good. This was the one place in all the world where he wanted to be.

He was now seven and twenty and had seen far more of the world than he cared to see. It was time to settle. And despite what Elizabeth thought, he meant to settle with her.

He could comb the world over and never find a woman he would prefer over her. Her appeal went far deeper than her incredible beauty. Even though he'd not been with her very much, he knew the goodness of her heart, especially to his lovely little girl.

By Jove! He was going to make Elizabeth fall in love with him.

He was already half in love with her. By Christmas, this would be a real marriage.

 Which he suddenly realized was what he wanted more than anything.

* * *

She did not belong here. Truly she didn't. Why, then, did this bedchamber envelop her like Grandma's counterpane? She lay within the peace of the big bed so high off the ground, she'd had to climb steps to it. Fanny's warm little body beside hers and the velvet curtains trapping the warmth into their little square gave her a feeling of safety unlike anything she had experienced since her father had died.

Of course, she had to leave Farley Manor. Lord Broxbourne had been all that was gallant both that first day and again tonight, but she could not allow him to throw away all prospect of happiness. He deserved a fine wife of his own class. He deserved a wife who won his mother's approval. He deserved a wife who loved him as mightily as Elizabeth loved Fanny.

But what woman would not fall in love with him? Even were he not so handsome, and were he not titled, and were he not rich, any woman would fall in love with a man possessed of such an unwavering sense of honor.

How would she manage to extract herself from this situation?

* * *

She could only barely tell the sun had risen through a slight gap in the velvet drapes which encased their bed, so it was not the light that had awakened her. It was a trembling upon her mattress. What in the world? She rolled over, and discovered Fanny jumping upon the bed as if she were a circus performer! "Young lady! You will stop that right now."

"Why?" She continued bobbing up and down.

Elizabeth sat up."Because you might hurt yourself." She hauled the tiny child into her arms and gave her several smacking kisses. "I love you, silly goose."

"I love you."

"Let's get dressed and go meet your cousins!"

Embarrassingly, Elizabeth put on the same blue velvet she'd worn the night before. She only possessed two dresses, and she would save the best for the dinner table. She knew the nobility always dressed for dinner.

Once they were dressed, she was in a quandary as to where to go. The house was so large. Perhaps she would ask the viscount. She tentatively walked to the connecting door and knocked.