The Christmas Wager (10 page)

perversity without running away? Well, bully for him! But

didn‘t the fool understand how painful that kind of forced

artificial closeness would be to Andrew?

Lud, this is going to be worst Christmas I’ve ever endured!

The twins seemed to sense that something was wrong

between the two older men, as they trudged through the

deepening snow, but fortunately Susan did not. The girl was

practically prattling as she walked between her two ―uncles,‖

each of them holding onto one of her damp mittened hands.

Barrington Hall was beautiful in the falling snow. Even

though it was barely midday, it was dark enough for some of

the lamps to be lit, and they could be seen through the

windows, sparkling like the candles of a Christmas tree.

They came in through the kitchen, causing Cook to cluck

at them about the mud and water they were tracking inside.

She positively would not allow them to go into the rest of the

house until they‘d wiped their boots and had the snow brushed

off of them by one of the kitchen staff.

Hew gave Susan a quick peck on the cheek, then

disappeared with his brother to parts unknown. Thomas raised

his eyebrows, and Andrew couldn‘t resist a slight smile. If

Edward didn‘t watch out, that boy might someday spell

trouble—assuming he was willing to wait thirteen or fourteen

years.

Thomas led his niece up the short steps into the back hall,

and Andrew could think of little else to do but follow them.

When they entered the large entrance hall they found a number

of people gathered there, including the duke and Simcox, who

was ordering some of the servants to take coats and bags.

One of the duke‘s hounds was running around the hall,

unable to contain his excitement at having visitors. He noticed

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the newcomers and padded over. He was a massive animal,

and Susan shrieked, thinking he would knock her over.

Thomas scooped her up out of the dog‘s reach and shushed her.

―He won‘t hurt you, poppet. He‘s just happy to see you.‖

Andrew grabbed the rambunctious animal by the collar as

it tried to jump up on Thomas, and pulled it away.

―Father!‖ Thomas called out. ―Will you please call the dog.

He‘s frightening Susan.‖

The duke turned and whistled. ―Come here, boy!‖

Andrew released the dog, and it trotted obediently to its

master‘s side, while Duchess Barrington attempted to laugh it

off, saying to one of the guests, ―Thank goodness he has only

one of the animals with him tonight. There are times when the

house is positively
overrun
!‖

This was met with polite laughter from the guests. The

duke looked put out, but merely harrumphed in response.

Then suddenly another voice called out in a lilting soprano,

―Thomas? Is that you?‖

She emerged from the throng of people gathered by the

door, looking startling beautiful, her raven hair contrasting

dramatically with the ivory of her skin, a sensual, rose-colored

mouth, and vivid blue eyes. As she rushed forward to greet the

lord, her richly made dark green riding dress swirling about her

in a vision of refined elegance, Andrew saw Thomas go pale.

―Rebecca,‖ he said softly.

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Chapter 13

SHE was even more lovely than she‘d been the last time he saw

her. Certainly, she seemed more shapely. Her dress was just

low-cut enough to reveal an ample bosom, without being too

scandalous.

―It
is
you, Thomas! I was so hoping you would be here.‖

Her lips were soft and warm against his cheek, but he felt

no stirring of arousal—only horror. He saw Andrew glance away

quickly, feigning interest in the other visitors, but it hadn‘t

been quick enough to hide the jealousy in his eyes.

―I‘m glad to see you, Miss Hudson,‖ he lied, hoping his

smile looked more sincere than it felt.

―We were supposed to attend the Christmas Eve ball at the

Rutherford‘s, but your father was so sweet in his letter. And

really, I‘d much rather be at Barrington.‖

How could Father do this to me?
But Thomas wasn‘t

surprised, really. No wonder the old bastard had given in so

easily. He had seen the ball—or dance, as the case may be—as

a perfect opportunity to try to force Thomas and Rebecca

together once more. Even after six years, the duke was

determined to get his way.

And now Thomas had more than just himself to worry

about. With things already tense between him and Andrew,

Rebecca‘s presence could only serve to make things worse.

―And this must be Susan!‖ the young woman was saying,

turning her sparkling smile upon the little girl. ―Your

grandmother has written to me about you. Aren‘t you lovely?‖

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Susan was eyeing her warily, but remembered her

manners in time to say, ―Hello.‖

―Miss Hudson,‖ Thomas said, unable to think of a way out

of the awkward situation, ―this is my dearest friend, Mr.

Andrew Nash.‖

―Mr. Nash,‖ Rebecca said sweetly, extending a hand.

Andrew took it and made an eloquent bow, placing a

gentle kiss on her gloved fingers. ―Miss Hudson. Thomas has

mentioned you often.‖

That was a lie, Thomas thought. He‘d deliberately avoided

discussing her with Andrew, even before he knew of Andrew‘s…

inclinations. It wasn‘t that he disliked her, really. He recalled

her being very sweet. But to him, she was a trap—a trap laid by

his father. And he‘d be damned if he was going to fall into it.

He was spared further conversation by Susan suddenly

exclaiming, ―Father!‖

Rebecca seemed startled by the shout, but she regained

her composure and turned to face Edward as he emerged from

his study, looking weary and a bit tousled. He‘d still not yet

taken the time to dress properly. Thomas‘s older brother saw

Rebecca and looked a bit alarmed. But after a second‘s

hesitation, he bowed slightly. ―Rebecca. It‘s good to see you

again.‖

She smiled. ―And you, Edward.‖

Susan squirmed for Thomas to let her down, so he did so.

The little girl ran to her father and threw her arms around his

legs. Edward absently touched her hair before noticing that she

still had melting snow in it. ―Susan! You‘re soaking wet. We‘d

better get you into some dry clothes before you catch cold.‖

―I can take her up, Edward,‖ Thomas offered immediately,

jumping at the chance to escape.

―Very well, Thomas. Thank you.‖

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Thomas took his niece by the hand again and led her to

the stairs, pleased to see that Andrew moved to follow him.

They took their leave of Edward and Rebecca, then went

upstairs.

―I SHOULD have expected this!‖ Thomas was ranting, while

Andrew stood before the blazing fire in Thomas‘s room. ―But I

thought she would be safely married off to some other poor sap

by now.‖

The blond watched in helpless fascination while Thomas

stripped off his layers of wet clothing and draped them over the

backs of all the chairs in the room. He was already bare-

chested, and there wasn‘t much left for him to remove.

Andrew desperately wanted to leave. He had watched his

friend undress in the past, more times than he could remember,

and he had to admit that he‘d found it erotic. But his

upbringing—as well as fear of revealing his nature—had always

prevented him from gawking, and the casual nature of it had

somehow prevented it from feeling sordid.

Now that Thomas was aware of Andrew‘s inclinations, it

felt deliberate and forced. Perhaps the man was attempting to

prove that he was above all of it; that he didn‘t care one whit if

Andrew looked at him. But it made Andrew feel extremely

uncomfortable, as though he were diseased and Thomas was

trying too hard to prove that he wasn‘t afraid to approach the

sick bed.

―He can‘t force you to marry her now,‖ Andrew replied

reasonably, ―Any more than he could six years ago. Now, if

you‘ll excuse me—‖

But Thomas wasn‘t about to let him escape. ―You just

watch. He‘ll arrange for her to dog me every minute.‖

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He began undoing his trousers, and Andrew felt his pulse

quicken involuntarily. Thankfully, Thomas stopped for a

moment, choosing instead to flop down in one of the stuffed

armchairs before the fire and extend a boot. ―Help me, please?‖

Andrew nearly refused. He nearly told his friend to call for

one of the servants, if he couldn‘t manage his own clothing.

But he held his tongue, simply kneeling and beginning to

unfasten the boot.

―She‘s very beautiful, Thomas. Even more so than I

imagined. Would it be such a bad thing to marry her and raise

a family?‖

Thomas made a rude noise. ―Marriage is for other sorts of

men than us, Andrew.‖

Now, this was really intolerable. Andrew let Thomas‘s foot

fall and stood up to glare down at him. ―Stop talking rubbish!‖

Thomas gaped at him, unable to think of a response.

―Thomas, we are not men of the same sort. You are merely

one of countless other men in the civilized world who view a

wife and children as a burden. While that may make you

irresponsible, if one were being unkind, it does not make you in

any way like me.‖

―Andrew—‖

Angry now, Andrew gathered up his own waistcoat from

where it lay draped over one of the chair backs beside

Thomas‘s. ―And I will thank you not to undress in front of me

or… touch me in inappropriate ways, in the future.‖

―What inappropriate ways?‖ Thomas asked, looking

shocked.

―You know perfectly well what I‘m referring to. That

wrestling match, or whatever you think it was, outside in the

snow this afternoon.‖

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―Hew and Duncan were wrestling too.‖ The lord started

undoing his own boot, tugging at the laces in obvious irritation.

―For them,‖ Andrew said, ―it was nothing more than an

innocent game. It wasn‘t for the two of us—not after what‘s

happened between us in the past day. You must realize how

these things affect me, Thomas. I don‘t appreciate being…

tortured like this.‖

Thomas looked up from his task, annoyed. ―Tortured?‖

―If you‘ll excuse me, I have to find dry clothes for the dance

this evening.‖

THOMAS watched him storm out and was torn between

stopping him and shouting a biting parting remark.

Fortunately, he did neither.

Torture?
It was true that he‘d done these things

deliberately. But he wasn‘t trying to torture Andrew. He simply

wanted things to go back to the way they‘d been before the…

incident.

Angrily, he tugged his boot off and threw it aside. Then he

began tackling the wet laces of the other.

What did Andrew want of him? Most gentlemen would

have refused any further association with a man of his nature,

as he‘d said himself. Some would have reported him to the

authorities. Thomas was willing to allow their friendship to

continue. Why should he be vilified for that?

He kicked the other boot off.

The lout ought to be grateful!

He rang for a servant, and waited with his trousers still on

until there was a gentle knock and a young man let himself

into the room. ―You rang, Your Lordship?‖

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―Could you have some hot water brought up, please? I‘d

like to take a bath.‖

―Yes, sir.‖

Having hot water for a bath brought to his room was a

time-consuming process, involving a couple of the more

muscular male servants lugging pails of hot water from a fire-

stoked water tank in a room at the end of the long eastern wing.

It was about a half hour later when Thomas was able to finally

strip completely and ease himself into the steaming water.

One of the servants, a young man with a muscular frame

and straw-blond hair, had remained in the room to tidy up the

clothes scattered everywhere—he seemed to think they could

be better dealt with in the laundry—and lay out fresh attire for