Miss Featherton's Christmas Prince (The Marriage Game Book 9) (6 page)

“Not bad. Dry until the last bit. I stopped at home to see my step-mother and the children. Fortunately, my father was away for a few days.”

Her black eyes lost their good humor. “Still on the outs, I see. Well, the right wife will go a long way to settling that.”

“I only wish that was true. Something gives me the unsettling feeling that he would like to arrange my wife for me.”

“Old fool.” Her lips pressed together. “There can be no objection to Miss Featherton—if you can manage to bring her up to scratch, that is.”

“While we’re on the subject, if you have any ideas, you perceive me all ears.”

“What was the paper you passed to Miss Hiller?”

Damon didn’t know and did not wish to know how Lady Bellamny saw everything. “It was from Throughgood, telling her his family would dine here this evening.”

She nodded. “Excellent.” She gave him a second glass of wine. “Take that to Miss Featherton. She looks cold and rather peaked.”

A glass in each hand, Damon ambled over to the fireplace, then stood off to the side of his quarry. “I brought you some warm wine.”

She glanced at him, startled. “Thank you. That was very kind.”

Pressing the glass into her hand, he replied, “It was Lady B’s idea. She said you looked cold.”

“Yes.” As if to add effect to the words, she shivered. “I do not know why I’m so chilly. I am normally not such a poor creature.”

“It is a very old house and tends to be drafty.” Which was only a partial lie. The house was old. It had been in the Bellamny family since Queen Elizabeth’s time, but it was also extremely well maintained. “I am feeling a bit chilled as well,” he said, continuing to malign his hosts. He lifted his glass in a toast. “If Lady Bellamny is to be believed, this will warm us.”

Miss Featherton raised her glass as well. “I suppose it cannot hurt.” She sipped, and a faint smile appeared on her lips. “It is very good. Nothing at all like the mulled wine I’ve had before.”

He bent his head toward her as if he were about to impart a great secret. “French chef.”

“Oh.” A small burble of laughter escaped her. “That explains it.”

This might be easier than he had thought. Apparently, she
had
had time to recover. “This is excellent, but the best hot spiced wine I’ve ever had was in the north of Spain. Although, come to think of it, we might have been in southern France.”

“Were you making your Grand Tour?” She took a larger sip of the wine.

“After a fashion. If you consider Wellington a proper bear leader.”

Her jaw dropped for only a moment, but it was long enough for him to begin to imagine what her lips would feel like, and how she would taste.

“You were in the army. I did not know.”

Holding his arm out, he gave a mocking bow, and said jokingly, “You perceive before you a man of many talents.”

Her countenance shuttered as if she had slammed a door. That had obviously been the wrong thing to say. Perhaps he needed to learn more about her former suitors’ public personas. How had they presented themselves and what had they done for her to fall in love with them? His heart ached for her. No one, especially a lady like Miss Featherton, should be made to suffer such pain.

He drained his glass. “I beg your leave. I must change for dinner.”

“Yes, of course,” she said in a distracted tone. “As should I.”

Damon took her wineglass, taking the opportunity to kiss her hand. “I look forward to seeing you at dinner.”

She gazed at their hands. “Thank you again for the wine.”

As he released her fingers he wished he were a gypsy and could read her mind. This was much worse than he had ever thought it would be. No one he knew had been betrayed to such an extent. No one to whom he could turn for advice on the matter, who had suffered such betrayal. Except perhaps himself, with regard to his father. The only difficulty with that was Damon had not yet resolved his feelings concerning the matter.

As he left the drawing room, he asked a footman to escort him to his chambers, and found himself being led to the rooms he had occupied since he left Eton.

He had been through a war. Surely he could find a way to break through Miss Featherton’s defenses, as they had breached the walls at the siege of Badajoz. The images of fire and blood rushed back to him and he fought the memories. The success of the Forlorn Hope, the rape of the city. Even Wellesley, now the Duke of Wellington, had trouble controlling the soldiers. Officers had been ordered to shoot misfeasors on sight.

Damon shook himself. He did not need those memories to haunt him here. Miss Featherton would have nothing to fear from him. When he won his siege of her, she would finally be free of her enemies.

A
manda snoodled toward the center of the drawing room’s wall of windows, took out the note from Lord Throughgood, and read it.

It was only an hour until he arrived, but it seemed like a lifetime. Except that she had to wash off the dust from the road, and dress. Oh goodness. Would she have enough time?

She glanced at her mother, who appeared to be unaware she had received an illicit message. Not that it mattered. Her father had given her permission to receive letters from Lord Throughgood, and respond to him, after he had read them of course. In Papa’s absence, Mama was to read them. Amanda caught her mother’s eye and indicated she was leaving.

As she made her way to the door, her happiness dimmed. The air between Meg and Lord Hawksworth seemed alive, shimmering, but neither of them was acting as if anything was going on. There had to be something other than mere politeness between them. Perhaps Meg needed a reason to spend time with his lordship. If only Amanda could think of some scheme to throw them at one another. Unfortunately, nothing came immediately to mind. Perhaps Lord Throughgood would have an idea. The more she had come to know him, the more she respected his commonsensical approach to problems. When she was concerned about their families getting along, he had the idea for his mother to invite her and her parents to stay a few days at Grantville so that their parents would feel comfortable together. Lady Bellamny had agreed to take over chaperoning Meg.

Happily, her ladyship’s house had enough chambers to allow Meg and Amanda to have their own rooms. Normally they would have shared a room, but under the circumstances, that did not appeal to Amanda. Not that she planned a secret assignation, nothing of the sort, but she and her family would be spending time with the Grantvilles. Sharing a room would make that difficult. Not to mention that Meg was so dour right now, and Amanda did not wish to have her spirits lowered.

She pinched herself until it hurt. That was not being fair to Meg. Perhaps Amanda and Lord Throughgood could be an example of how a couple in love should be.

Amanda’s maid, Lucy, was already laying out the pale pink velvet gown she would wear to dinner. “I must hurry.”

“Yes, miss. Your wash water is coming.”

Amanda wanted to pace, which was not at all like her. Just as she was about to fetch the water herself, a light tapping sounded, and Lucy opened the door, then stood aside while a young woman went directly to the bowl and filled it.

Once the maid left, Lucy helped Amanda out of her gown, and she washed her face and hands.

“I thought you were not due down until quarter to five?” Lucy asked as she laced Amanda’s gown.

“Lord Throughgood will be here at half four.”

Her maid’s eyes widened. “You’d better hurry.”

She shrugged off the temptation to tell her maid that was what she was trying to do. Lucy was the daughter of a senior maid and had been raised around the estate. Although she was terribly clever with Amanda’s clothing and hair, Lucy could be rather slow in other areas. Amanda had always thought it might be because her maid cared only about fashion, which was no bad trait in a lady’s maid.

“I’ll have your hair done in no time.”

Minutes later, she began to rush toward the stairs, but a voice from Meg’s room brought Amanda to a halt. Her friend was engaging in an angry tirade about Lord Hawksworth and her.
What could that be about?

She took a step toward the door. After a few moments, her friend stopped talking, and Amanda continued to her meeting with Lord Throughgood. As she entered the drawing room next to the dining room, he turned and smiled. She would have to discuss what she had heard Meg say, but it could wait.

She walked forward, meeting him half-way. When he took her hands and kissed them, she almost cried with happiness.

His deep blue gaze captured hers. “I have missed you.”

“I missed you as well.”

He squeezed her fingers, but the feeling was much different than when Lord Hawksworth had done the same. This time warmth filled her hands and heart. “I hope you do not mind, but I met with your father before leaving Town and asked permission to court you.”

“Did you?” He nodded, and a heat that had nothing to do with the fires or her shawl surged through her, and even though it was dark outside, the sun shone over her. “Perhaps it is time that you call me Amanda when we are in private.”

“Only if you call me Chuffy.”

“Chuffy?” She couldn’t help giggling a bit. “Is that your real name or a nickname?”

He grinned ruefully. “Charles is my true name, but my father is Charles, so I’ve always been Chuffy.”

She twined her fingers with his. “I think it is a wonderful nickname. It fits you somehow.” She paused, thinking about their courtship. “Does my mother know?”

“I haven’t given it any thought. I would assume your father informed her. Naturally, I told my parents. My mother is planning to have you visit our home even more times than we had thought. I believe arrangements have been made with Lady Bellamny.”

Amanda’s brow had creased, but it cleared when Chuffy explained what was planned. He was sure she was the right lady for him, and had not wanted the delay. But as she had suspected, Mr. Hiller had insisted that Mrs. Hiller and Amanda meet Chuffy’s parents before a final agreement to wed was made. He found himself chafing under the delay, but was not so rash as to oppose his future father-in-law, and therefore presented the proposal they had discussed before Amanda had left Town.

“Yes, that will do nicely—if they get along, that is.” The crease on her forehead had returned.

He led her to a small sofa. “Having been out of the country for so long, my family is a bit unusual. They are not ones to stand on ceremony at home and among friends.” He began to wonder if their families would like one another. “Will your mother mind?”

Amanda tilted her head to the side. “I do not believe so. However, the only way to find out is when they meet.” She gazed into his eyes and smiled. “In any event, I do not believe they will need to be the best of friends in order for us to make our decision.” That was exactly what he had wished to hear. “I do hope they get on well. It will make our lives easier.”

“As do I, but my mother and grandmother could barely stand the sight of one another. Then again, they were a continent apart.”

Amanda’s hand covered her lips as she choked. “Oh dear. I do hope your mother and I will like each other.”

He drew her into his arms. “How she could fail to love you is beyond me.” Chuffy touched his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. “I love you.”

Her lips had puckered and moved beneath his. “And I love you.”

Grinning, he held her, savoring her warm, soft body. “Perhaps by Twelfth Night we will be able to announce our wedding.”

“That is my wish as well.”

Her arms had crept cautiously around his neck, and they remained there until he heard steps outside the door. “I believe we shall shortly have company.”

As she drew back, her cheeks turned the color of a damask rose he had seen in Persia. “I had almost forgot.”

The door opened and Lady Hiller strolled into the room with his mother. Both were so engrossed in their conversation that he didn’t think they had noticed Amanda and him until they stopped.

“Chuffy,” Mama said. “I would like very much to be introduced to Miss Hiller.”

In short order the introductions were made.

His mother held out her hand to Amanda. “It is my pleasure to finally meet the lady who has commanded my son’s attention.”

His beloved sank gracefully into a curtsey. “Thank you, my lady. Lord Throughgood and I have much in common.”

Mama glanced at him over Amanda’s head and nodded her satisfaction. “Did I not tell you, Mother? She is a jewel among ladies.”

“Indeed you did.”

Although he did not feel as if he needed his mother’s approval, it was welcome and would smooth the path to marriage. He only hoped her mother approved of his family. Which, considering the servants, might be a problem.

 

Meg made her way to the drawing room and was surprised but glad that Lord Throughgood was present. However, before she could approach him, Lady Bellamny drew her off to meet another couple who had arrived.

Lord and Lady Smithson were the epitome of a fashionable couple who seemed out of place in the country. Lady Smithson’s gown was more suited to a London ball, and Lord Smithson aped the most extravagant garb of the Dandy set, with shirt points so high he could not turn his head. He had worn a spotted silk neckcloth, and his waist was unnaturally nipped. He must be wearing a corset.

Meg dropped a slight curtsey. “How nice to meet you.”

Lady Smithson, Meg was sure, gauged her graceful curtsey to the precise point for the daughter of a viscount, and curled her lips into a smile. “A pleasure, Miss Featherton. I have heard a great deal about your family.”

That in itself was not surprising. Her family and the original title dated back to King William I. Suddenly she felt as if she had to protect her family from this woman. “Indeed.”

Lord Smithson blatantly surveyed Meg’s body before bowing and taking her hand. “A singular pleasure, Miss Featherton.”

He kissed her hand and Meg wanted to wash it immediately. “My lord.”

Before she knew what was happening, a warm presence loomed behind her. “Smithson, my lady.” Lord Hawksworth’s deep voice would have startled her if she had not already felt his presence. “How was your journey?”

Lady Smithson simpered, and Meg had the strong urge to roll her eyes in disgust.

“Long and cold, my lord.” The lady gave a dramatic shiver and stepped closer to Lord Hawksworth.

If these were the types of people with whom he normally socialized, it was all the more reason to keep Amanda away from him.

“As it has been for all of us.” He turned his attention to Lord Smithson. “I would have thought this type of party a bit dull for you.”

The man flushed. “Not at all. I understand Lady Bellamny is an excellent hostess.”

“She is.” Lord Hawksworth’s words were curt and dismissive.

Apparently he did not want anything to do with the couple. His face held no humor, and for a moment it appeared as if he might make another remark. Yet, any setdown he gave the couple would reflect badly on Lady Bellamny. They were, after all, her guests. Which raised the question of why the Smithsons had been invited. They did not fit in with the rest of the party. But Lord Hawksworth’s presence was distracting her too much to give them any further consideration.

She was used to large men. Her brother’s friends, as well as her father, were all tall with broad shoulders, yet there was something different about Lord Hawksworth. A force that sizzled beneath the Dandy façade. She had sensed it in both Lord Swindon and Lord Tarlington, but not to the same extent. Another reason to guard herself around the man.

Lord Hawksworth placed her hand on his arm. “You will excuse us.”

Not a question but a statement. She wanted to shake the cobwebs from her mind, but his strong arm and the determination with which he led her away confused her. Wasn’t he planning to court Amanda? When she glanced to where Lord Throughgood had been, Meg saw another woman and Mrs. Hiller talking. Meg was still trying to find her friend when dinner was announced.

“I believe I have been instructed to escort you.” Lord Hawksworth steered her toward the door to the hall.

She tried, briefly, to recall everyone’s rank and who they should be matched with, then gave it up. If Lady Bellamny had told him to escort Meg, then that was the end of it. She quickly glanced around and saw Amanda with Lord Throughgood. Hopefully, Meg would have the opportunity to speak with him later. Yet how was she to do that and keep Lord Hawksworth away from Amanda at the same time? Dear Lord, this was becoming complicated. She shrugged. If she could not discuss a possible future with Lord Throughgood this evening, Meg would ask Lady Bellamny when next he would be present.

Damon noted with approval that Miss Hiller seemed to be getting on well with Throughgood’s parents. His father, mother, and the lady were having a lively discussion as the four of them strolled toward the dining room. Lord Smithson and his wife approached the dining room with two of the more elderly guests. Damon wondered what the devil Lady Bellamny was about inviting that pair of loose fish. He would warn Throughgood to keep an eye out for Miss Hiller when Smithson was around, and Damon would protect Miss Featherton. Although she seemed to sense there was something repellent about the couple.

When all the guests were in the dining room, Lady Bellamny stood by her chair and announced, “As you can see, I have decided to break with tradition. After this evening, you shall choose your own dining partners.” She gave her husband a fond but stern look, most likely reminding him not to keep the gentlemen too long. “While we are having tea, I shall discuss with you a few of the entertainments I have planned.”

She took her seat, indicating that everyone else should do the same.

Damon held the chair for Miss Featherton. “I wonder what she has in mind.”

“I wish I knew.” Her words were slightly breathless, as if she had been walking too fast, and worry infused her tone.

If only he could take her in his arms. He would never allow anyone to harm her again. When it came to his godmother’s planning, he might have a reason to be concerned as well. It would take time to court Miss Featherton, and he did not need to have it taken up with too many other activities.

Dinner, as he had expected, was excellent. As the courses were being served, he had asked which dishes she would prefer and had done his best to draw her into conversation. Yet that had been the work of Sisyphus. Her answers were desultory at best, and by the time the ladies left, Damon felt as if he’d been pushing a boulder up a hill. Perhaps he should have a conversation with Miss Hiller. She had seemed pleased that he was interested in Miss Featherton. Perhaps Miss Hiller would help him.