His By Christmas (Hamilton Sisters) (35 page)

“William,” she interrupted him, looking flustered. She took a step toward him, and then hesitated. “That’s just it.”

“What is?” William was confused by her words.

“About being your wife,” Yvette said, her voice very low and shaky. “I know you have yet to ask me in any formal way, but your intentions have been clear enough.”

He smiled, realizing she was worried that the delay meant he had changed his mind. Yes, he was upset with her for being alone with Eddington this evening and he had made that quite clear, but he still wanted her to be his wife. “I have every intention of asking you to marry me, Yvette. I would ask you now.”

She gasped, her face pale. “Oh, please do not.”

“Excuse me?” Surely he had misheard her!

With her eyes full of what could only be described as torment, she looked on the verge of tears once again and William’s heart flipped over in his chest. Whatever could be the matter to upset her so? A niggling feeling of unease crept up his spine.

“Oh, William, I beg you, please do not ask me. I am not worthy of the honor.”

Stunned, he stared at her in disbelief. “Yvette, my dearest, what are you saying?”

She said nothing but stared at him. A tear slid down her soft cheek.

“Yvette?” he asked again, his mouth dry. He stepped toward her, until he stood close enough to place his hands on her shoulders. “What do you mean?”

“I am afraid that things . . . my feelings . . . have changed . . . and I . . . I have feelings for someone else, William.”

His head pounded and the blood rushed from his face. Damnation! He had been quite certain of her affection for him! What had happened? Had she been playing him for a fool? She couldn’t possibly be turning him down when he had not even asked her yet!

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Yvette. I am going to be a duke!”

She looked up at him, taking one of his hands in hers. She squeezed tightly. “I am very much aware of your title, William, which is why I am not worthy of such an immense honor. So, I beg you, please do not ask me to marry you.”

William grew quiet, trying to take it all in. The disappointment was crushing. After all the time he’d spent courting her, finding favor with her family, and deeming her worthy of being his duchess, Yvette Hamilton was not going to accept his offer of marriage. It was unbelievable. How could such a thing happen? To him?!

Yvette was not in love with him.

“Is it Eddington?” he asked finally, knowing in his gut what the answer would be.

She looked him square in the eye and admitted, “Yes. I am in love with him.”

“I see.” He blinked rapidly and took a deep breath, attempting to maintain his composure. He removed his hands from hers. He had never been more astounded in his life. A woman had never turned him down before. Never.

“I am so sorry, William.” Yvette began to explain, “I had wanted to tell you as soon as I realized the truth myself, which was only a few days ago. But you were so ill . . . and I couldn’t see you.”

“Yes, that would have been useful information. I might have passed up attending the Duke of Rathmore’s ball this evening.” William would have preferred to suffer this humiliation in the privacy of his own home. It was now quite clear to him why Yvette had sent him a flurry of notes the last three days, asking if he was well enough to see her. If he had known how important it was, he might not have let his vanity keep him from seeing her when he was not looking his best. It also explained Lucien Sinclair’s unexpected attempt to see him this morning.

“I did not wish for you to learn of my feelings for Jeffrey here tonight, truly I did not,” she said softly.

“On that score I believe you, Yvette, and I thank you for trying to spare me this.”

“I have enjoyed our time together, William, and my affection for you was honest, I assure you. However, my feelings for Jeffrey caught me quite off guard. I don’t know that I can explain what happened with him.”

William lifted his chin, not able to bear hearing about her amorous sentiments for Lord Eddington. Never had he disliked a man more. “I suppose it’s best to know the truth now before entering into a marriage together.”

“Yes.” She nodded in agreement, her eyes sad. “I am so very sorry.”

“Well, I guess that is all there is to say.” He forced a smile he did not feel. “We can part as friends, I hope?”

“Oh, yes.” She gave a halfhearted grin back at him. “Of course, I shall always consider you a dear friend.”

“I am happy to hear that.” He took a deep breath. “Then I shall take my leave of you now and return to the ballroom.”

“William, I . . . There is . . . one more thing you ought to know . . . ,” she said with great reluctance, wringing her hands together in front of her.

“Yes?”

“Lord Rathmore is going to announce my engagement to his son this evening.”

His stomach roiled at her words. William could take no more. This was rubbing salt in the wound, so to speak. Although to her credit, she did look mortified by the prospect. At least he had the comfort that there had only been rumors of their impending engagement and nothing certain. Aside from her family and his mother, no one else knew for certain of his intentions to marry her. He said, “Then I hope you understand my desire not to remain for the announcement.”

“I understand completely.”

Again, he forced another smile at her, fighting the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her one last time. Filled with disappointment and regret, he said, “I wish you and your family a most joyous Christmas, Miss Hamilton.”

“I wish the same to you and your family, Lord Shelley.”

They had reverted back to their formal beginnings. With that, William held his head high and left the room.

33

Pipers Piping

Yvette waited for a full half hour before she was calm enough to return to the ballroom. She had no desire to go, but she made the effort. The noise of the ballroom no longer seemed festive to her. Still quite angry with Jeffrey and feeling terrible for Lord Shelley, she managed a weak smile for the friends who greeted her. Now she only wanted to find one of her sisters and return home. This evening had disintegrated into a nightmarish mess.

“Yvette!”

“Lucien?”

Her tall and handsome brother-in-law caught up to her. With an indulgent smile, he said, “They’ve been looking for you everywhere. Your presence is requested in the gallery right away.”

She shook her head, fighting the urge to cry. “Oh, Lucien, will you please take me home?”

“Why?” His green eyes looked at her with sudden concern. “What’s wrong, Yvette?”

“Jeffrey.” It was all she could manage to say, but in essence his name said it all.

“What has happened?”

“I don’t wish to talk about it now. I just need to go home.”

Lucien gave her a sympathetic look and attempted to calm her. “Oh, Yvette, I have been friends with Jeffrey Eddington for most of my life and we have been through a great deal together. But I have never seen him act the way he does with you. He is head over heels in love with you and he would never do anything to hurt you. Not intentionally anyway. If he has hurt you, I am certain he didn’t mean it.”

“That’s what Jeffrey said too,” Yvette murmured. “But I just feel so strange about everything now, knowing what he did. . . .”

“Then see him, talk to him. Don’t go home and hide, Yvette. Running away doesn’t solve anything.”

“But Lucien, you don’t know what he—”

“But I do know you. And Jeffrey,” he interrupted her, “and I know enough to see how much you love each other. Go to him.”

Yvette paused, unsure what to do. Perhaps Lucien was right.

“There you are, my girl!” a jovial voice called to her.

Yvette was suddenly face to face with the Duke of Rathmore, whose eyes were twinkling with delight.

“Oh, Lucien, I see you have found her!” Maxwell Eddington said. “Yvette, my dear, we’ve been looking for you everywhere. It’s almost midnight and I’ve waited long enough! It’s time to make our announcements. Jeffrey and Janet are already in the gallery, waiting for us to join them.”

“Oh, Your Grace,” Yvette stammered. She looked nervously to Lucien for help. “I’m . . . not feeling at all well. I’d rather wait—”

“Nonsense!” Maxwell Eddington cried, dismissing her worries.

Lucien nodded at her, smiling. “Go.”

“Excuse us, Lucien.” The Duke of Rathmore took Yvette’s arm and began guiding her to the main hall. “You look well enough to me. In fact, you look lovelier than I’ve ever seen you. It’s just the excitement that’s got you all aflutter. Besides, it won’t take but a minute or two. I can’t wait to see the expressions on everyone’s faces when they hear our exciting news!”

His smile was so infectious that Yvette could not resist him. Helplessly, she followed the duke up the marble steps to the small gallery overlooking the main hall, where many of the guests had assembled. She searched the crowd below for her sisters, but could not locate them. She gave a silent prayer that Lord Shelley and his mother had left already and would not bear witness to this event.

The Duke of Rathmore escorted her to the gallery, where his new wife and his only son were waiting.

Jeffrey had the decency to look sheepish when he saw Yvette. With questioning eyes, he took her hand in his and drew her to his side. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t wish to marry me,” he whispered in her ear. “I can tell my father we’ve called it off.”

“Is that what you want?” Yvette whispered back. “For me to call it off?”

Maxwell Eddington gave a signal to the orchestra and they ceased playing. The large crowd of elegantly attired guests grew hushed in anticipation. In his booming voice, he began, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am sorry to interrupt your revelry, but I wish to thank you for coming to my annual Christmas ball.”

The crowd below cheered in agreement.

“You know it isn’t what I want,” Jeffrey murmured fervently. He squeezed her hand in his. “I want to marry you more than anything in the world. But what I want doesn’t matter. All that matters to me is what you want, Yvette.”

“I have wonderful news to share with you this evening!” The duke’s voice boomed across the wide hall. “News I hope you will be as happy to hear as I am to share it with all of you.”

A sea of interested faces looked up at the gallery in expectation.

Yvette stared at Jeffrey Eddington, tears welling in her eyes.

She had loved this man for longer than she could recall, certainly long before she’d realized it. The day she had first met him in the bookshop, while she was atop a ladder and he entered looking so striking and debonair. He had bowed elegantly to her, making her feel like the fairest lady of them all. Jeffrey had always had the ability to make her feel that way. He made her feel special all the time, even back when he’d allowed her to have a first taste of champagne when Juliette and Harrison became engaged. Jeffrey had teased and adored her for years.

All her life she had been longing for someone or something to make her feel special and important and needed, and it had been right in front of her the entire time. She had gradually come to rely on him, to need him, to want him, to love him. She could not imagine her life without him in it.

“Yvette?” Jeffrey asked, his voice a bit more anxious.

“I am sure some of you may find this news quite surprising for many reasons,” the Duke of Rathmore continued to talk to the crowd, drawing on his considerable charm and flair for drama to keep them in suspense. “My life has not been without scandal, as you are well aware.” With a sly wink and a mischievous grin, he leaned over the balustrade and his guests smiled indulgently at him. “So while this announcement may cause a greater scandal, in some ways it rights a terrible wrong done long ago to two people I love dearly.”

The waiting crowd grew hushed, eager to hear the duke’s great revelation.

Jeffrey squeezed her hand again, prompting an answer from her. Yvette knew that if she didn’t say something, Jeffrey’s father would announce their engagement whether she wanted him to or not.

What did she want? For all that she had wished to be a duchess, she now knew deep in her heart that William Weatherly was not the man for her. Letting him go had been the right decision, for she did not truly love him.

She loved the man who held her hand and looked at her with such longing.

“I am happy to announce that I have married again. Janet Rutherford has consented to marry me, so I would like to introduce you to my beautiful new wife,” the duke told the crowd, drawing Janet to the balustrade beside him, presenting her. “The Duchess of Rathmore.”

As the new duchess gave a little wave and smiled happily at the crowd, a low buzz of voices began to grow below the gallery. Murmurs and mumbles of surprise and censure echoed around the great hall.

“Yvette, I love you,” Jeffrey whispered softly.

She stared at him, her heart racing. He had finally said the words to her!

Jeffrey murmured in her ear, “I want to marry you. I can explain that stupid bet. It means nothing, I swear to you. I’m not half good enough for you, but marry me and I will spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

Yvette smiled at Jeffrey. “I love you too.”

Looking astonishingly relieved, Jeffrey pressed a tender kiss to her cheek.

“But there’s more good news! This is a doubly joyous night for me. For I am a very proud father as well. It seems
both
Eddington men are no longer bachelors!” Maxwell Eddington called down to the buzzing and wide-eyed guests.

If they were shocked at the fact that the scandal-ridden duke had married his former mistress and the mother of his illegitimate son, they were stunned into silence by the news that Jeffrey Eddington, the infamous and notorious rake, was about to be married. They waited, hanging on the Duke of Rathmore’s every word.

“My son, Jeffrey Eddington, is engaged to marry the very beautiful, Miss Yvette Hamilton!” the Duke of Rathmore declared loudly.

The guests erupted into gasps of surprise and then shouts of congratulations and applause as Jeffrey and Yvette walked to the balustrade hand in hand, both grinning broadly.