The Christmas Heiress (29 page)

"It must have been a very trying week," the earl
sympathized.

"Week? She did all that before luncheon the first
day!" Lord Reginald smiled fondly. "She always had
great spirit. I'm proud she has retained it as she has
grown into womanhood."

"It must have been difficult for you, raising such
a child," Edward commented, suddenly wanting to
know more.

Lord Reginald chuckled. "She could be willful
and stubborn to a fault. But she was never cruel or
mean-spirited, so I knew that at her core, Charlotte
had a good heart. It gave me hope and the courage
to forge ahead during the most trying of times.

"I tolerated a lot of impossible behavior when she
first came to live with me, even though I knew it was not good for either of us to always give in to her
whims. Yet I found that in my grief over losing my
son and daughter-in-law, I could not bear to refuse
the pleading in Charlotte's eyes when she wanted
something so badly."

"How old was she?"

"Almost five."

Edward tried to imagine what it must have been
like for Lord Reginald, to lose both his son and
daughter-in-law without warning. It was no wonder
that he never wanted Charlotte to be deprived of
anything she desired. "It must have been very
hard," Edward said sympathetically.

"I cried many a tear and I'm not ashamed to
admit it." Lord Reginald gave himself a little shake.
"But then there was Charlotte to think of and there
was no time to be maudlin. Though I was hardly a
disciplinarian, there were things that I would never
sanction and Charlotte quickly learned and obeyed
those lessons. No bullying or shouting or ordering
people about, for me or her.

"Those methods are often used on children, and
wayward adults, but that never sat well with my conscience." Lord Reginald smiled slow and sweet,
then met the earl's gaze. "The key to controlling
Charlotte without breaking her spirit was fairly
simple. Bribery."

"You must have very deep pockets, Lord Reginald."

"Bribery comes in many forms, Worthington. 'Tis
not always the monetary worth of an item, but
rather the value one places upon it. When she was
seven, I could almost always get Charlotte to obey
me by promising her an extra hour each afternoon
on her favorite mount."

"And when she was sixteen?"

Lord Reginald laughed and shook his head. "That
is when life really became interesting at Quincy
Court." The older gentleman held out his empty
glass and Edward obligingly filled it with another
dram of whiskey. "I admit I have spoiled and indulged Charlotte and I am very aware of the gossipmongers who have commented that it ruined her.
Even though a female sits on the throne, a strongminded woman is hardly the current fashion."

Edward bit back a grin. "Far better a woman with
backbone than a fluff-head full of palpitations, silly
airs and inane conversation. I will take spirit and
even anger in a woman over passivity any day of the
week."

"Well said, Worthington. A very enlightened view.
I shall drink to it." Lord Reginald took a hefty sip of
his dwindling whiskey. "There are some who say
that my Charlotte is a contrary woman and it will
take a strong man to master her. But I say she is not
a woman to be gained without a struggle, and thus
her worth is far above other females."

At that moment the object of their conversation
entered the room. Edward tilted his head and
watched Charlotte cross the floor to greet some of
the houseguests. She wore a lovely gown of deep burgundy silk that flattered her figure and showcased
her trim waist.

But it was not only her beauty that intrigued him.
Lord Reginald was right. Charlotte filled the room
with her presence, exuding a spirit that could not
quite be contained. At the first opportunity, Edward
excused himself to Lord Reginald and joined her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Aldridge."

"My lord." She dipped a pretty curtsey and selected an ornament to hang on the tree. Edward
followed her at a discreet distance, waiting patiently
until no one was in earshot before he spoke again.

"I think we might have a problem," he whispered.
"Jonathan saw me in the hallway late last night as I
was returning to my bedchamber."

The earl was prepared for Charlotte's reaction and
caught the delicate glass ornament she dropped
before it crashed and shattered on the floor.

It took a moment for her to recover her voice.
"Do you think he realized where you had been?"

"As I was carrying, instead of wearing, the majority of my clothing, an imbecile could have effortlessly ascertained that I had recently shared a bed
with a female guest. Jonathan is not a fool, though
it hardly takes any great intelligence to deduce
which female."

Charlotte's mouth twitched. "Why would Jonathan
assume that you had been with one of the houseguests? And why me? Did you tell him you had come
from my bedchamber?"

"Charlotte!" Edward exclaimed, his eyes filled with
turbulence. "I would never compromise your reputation to anyone, even my brother. Fortunately, Jonathan
has promised to forget the incident entirely."

"Excellent." Her worried expression shifted to a
look of serenity. "If you admitted nothing, then our
secret is safe," she asserted. "You could have just as
easily been coming from the servants' quarters
after pestering one of the maids."

"I think the overpowering scent of pine has
addled your brain," Edward said, resisting the urge
to grab her shoulders and give her a shake. "I shall let that remark pass because you have been taken
by surprise, but just to be clear, I want you to know
that I would never do anything so reprehensible as
`pester' one of my housemaids. Or anyone else's
housemaid, for that matter."

Charlotte blushed. "Of course not. I am sorry,
Edward, for even suggesting such a deplorable thing."

Her voice conveyed her sincere apology, but her
expression was so inscrutable he had no clue as to
what she was thinking. For one wild instant he
wished he had the power to read thoughts. It would
make his life so much easier.

Edward struggled to keep his voice low, hoping to
avoid drawing any attention to them. Fortunately,
everyone else seemed very involved in the tree trimming. "There is an easy way to solve this mess," he
said calmly. "I shall speak to your grandfather and we
can announce our engagement tonight at dinner."

"No."

He had not really expected her to readily agree,
yet it still hurt to hear the rejection. "Why are you
being so obstinate?"

"I am not." Charlotte tugged the ornament she
had just placed on the tree branch and hastily
shoved it onto a higher, thicker one. "You promised
me time to consider your proposal and I shall hold
you to your word. That is not being obstinate."

Edward rippled with frustration. "Circumstances
have changed."

"Nothing dire happened," she said, looking up at
him from beneath the thick fringe of her lashes.
"And you just told me that Jonathan will not say
anything. Our secret is safe."

He assessed her quietly, and realized she was seri ous. "The next time it could be someone else who
sees me," Edward reminded her. "Someone who
would not be as circumspect."

"Then we must not take any more risks. You must
stay out of my bedchamber." She refused to meet
his eyes. "Though perhaps that change in our relationship will also have you reconsidering your offer
of marriage to me."

Edward lifted one hand and set his forefinger beneath her chin, leaving her no choice but to look into
his eyes. "That comment hardly dignifies a response,"
he said. "Do you not know me better, Charlotte?"

She pushed his hand away and resumed rearranging the ornaments on the tree. "I hardly know
my own feelings, my lord. How can I possibly presume to understand yours?"

His chest constricted. This cat-and-mouse game
they were playing was wearing on his nerves. He
had told himself he was prepared to wait for Charlotte to make her decision, but he now realized he
was not prepared at all. Especially since he realized
if she had truly set her mind against him, there was
going to be no way of persuading her.

His recent words to Lord Reginald about preferring a woman of backbone and spirit hauntingly
echoed in his memory. "I remember someone once
telling me that there is no spur to the male heart
like rejection. Is that what you are trying to do,
Charlotte? Spur my heart?"

Her lovely green eyes turned hard. "What a low
opinion you have of me, my lord, to believe that I
must trick you into revealing your affections for me."

For a split second he wanted to turn and walk
away, to forget all about Charlotte and the confused feelings she stirred within him. To forget her kisses,
her sweetness, how wonderful she felt in his arms.
Trying to understand her, to placate her, to please
her seemed a task beyond his capabilities.

He walked over to the table where the glass ornaments has been carefully laid out, selected one and
returned to Charlotte's side. Her head was bent low
as she fumbled with a small doll she was trying to
set within the tree branches. Heedless of the others
in the room, he crouched down beside her. She refused to acknowledge his nearness, but he saw her
fingers tremble slightly as she moved them from
one branch to the next.

What was it that Lord Reginald has said-she is
not a woman to be gained without a struggle, and thus
her worth is far above other females.

"I am a cad, Charlotte," he said, handing her the
ornament.

She sighed. "Do not berate yourself so, my lord. I
know that I am not the most even-tempered of
women.

"How do we tolerate each other, I wonder?"

"'Tis not easy." A slow smile spread over her beautiful face as she beheld the lovely angel ornament
he had given her. "My only hope is that in the end
you will prove yourself worthy."

"I shall endeavor to try." Edward braced himself
forward on his elbows. After a quick glance to
ascertain that no one could see them, he leaned in
and kissed her.

Charlotte's mouth met his openly, warm and receptive. She smelled sweetly fragrant and softly feminine. He tasted her like a Christmas treat he meant
to savor, with light brushes of his tongue, and she responded in kind, swirling her lips and tongue to
meet his and maximize their pleasure.

Knowing they could not continue in so public a
venue, Edward broke the kiss, then turned away to
collect himself. As he looked past Charlotte, he saw
his mother enter the room, her companion, Miss
Montgomery, by her side. The lines around the
countess's eyes deepened with displeasure as she
took in all the activity.

"The countess has arrived," Charlotte whispered.
"Do you think she saw us kissing?"

"No, but there is only one way to be certain. I
shall go and greet her."

As he walked across the room, the earl fleetingly
wondered if it were wise to approach someone who
looked as if she had just found a pile of week-old
fish in the linen closet and believed you were the
one responsible for it, but he did so anyway. Miss
Montgomery discreetly, and wisely, drew away the
moment he gained the countess's side.

"I am so pleased you could join us, Mother. As
you can see, everyone is having a wonderful time."

"The entire north wing of the second floor smells
like a pine forest," the countess replied, her face
tight. "I came to investigate the unusual odor, and
now that I have seen that ... that ... tree, I finally
understand why."

"The smell will be even more prevalent when the
rest of the fresh greenery is hung tomorrow," he
said in a cheerful tone, forcing himself to smile.
"Lord Reginald and Lady Haddon both mentioned
how much they are looking forward to it."

The countess paused, narrowing her eyes. "Ali, so
you do not hold with the old superstition that it un lucky to bring the evergreens inside the house
before Christmas Eve?"

Edward shrugged. "'Tis an old-fashioned notion
that you and Father never subscribed to and it
pleases me to follow the holiday traditions established at Farmington Manor."

The countess's face went pale. "I am very surprised that you even remembered how your father
and I organized the holidays."

"I remember many things from my youth with
great fondness, especially the holiday celebrations."
Edward cleared his throat gruffly. "I miss Father a
great deal, but never more so than during this
season he so richly enjoyed."

For the briefest instant his mother looked stricken.
She backed into a chair and sat down. Edward
braced himself for her onslaught, but her voice was
soft when she finally spoke.

"I was deeply grieved when your father died-out
of my head, some might even say. It was so sudden,
so unexcepted." She turned to him and her voice
dropped even lower. "I should hope that you will be
enough of a gentleman to excuse the rantings of a
grief-stricken wife, that you will forget any words
that I might have spoken in hasty anger."

It was years late in coming, but Edward felt a
great sense of vindication. The very small, illogical
part of him that had always feared he had been an
unwilling catalyst to his father's death was set free
of its burden of guilt.

"'Tis forgotten," he said quietly.

"Good." The countess took a deep breath and
gazed about the ballroom. "Though it looks com pletely ridiculous, I believe your father would have
liked your great, oversized tree."

Touching his mother's shoulder, Edward knelt.
He knew he probably shouldn't push her, but he
could not let the opportunity slip away. "Will you
help us decorate it?" he asked, holding out a delicate glass ornament he had pulled from his pocket.

The countess lifted a finely arched eyebrow. "You
want me to put that on the tree?"

"Would you prefer another one?"