A Christmas Scandal (21 page)

“My God,” she whispered. “He
is
in love with her.” She began to pray in earnest that Maggie was safe, for she didn’t know if her brother could take another blow to his heart.

Edward stayed at the telegraph office until he received a reply from the
Times.
His telegram had been cryptic and brief. “Request information on
White Star
survivors STOP Immediate response requested STOP.”

While he waited, he paced until the telegraph operator cleared his throat pointedly. He sat, holding the book and gazing at it, praying as he hadn’t prayed since his mother and father died, since he sat by his sister’s bed and watched her struggle to breathe. “You will not die,” he’d whispered. “I will not allow it.”

And now, clutching the precious book, he prayed again. Each time he heard the clatter of the telegraph machine, he raised his head only to have the clerk shake his. Even though he’d read it a hundred times, he opened the book to read her inscription: “Nothing is lost which is worth finding. Yours, Maggie.” He still didn’t know what the hell she meant, he thought, smiling.

The telegraph machine clattered, and he raised his head.

“This is it, sir,” the clerk said, pulling the tape from the machine. He handed it over as soon as it stopped. Edward took the small slip of paper, thanked the man, and walked out of the office without reading it. It was a cold, blustery day and few people were walking about. It was Christmas Eve, after all. He slipped into an alley, pressing the paper against his lips. “Please, God, please,” he whispered. He opened his eyes and read the message: “All survived.”

“All survived,” he whispered, his eyes filling with tears. He slid down the cold brick of the building because he found his legs could no longer hold him. And, despite the few passersby who looked at him curiously, he began to sob in relief so profound it unmanned him.

“You all right, mister?”

He looked up to see a small boy, only his eyes showing in his bundled up little body.

“I am exceedingly well,” Edward said, laughing even though his face was wet with tears.

The boy gave him a baffled look, then went on his way, perhaps a bit frightened by the man who was crying but insisted he was “exceedingly well.” Edward stood, dusted himself off, and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his face.

It appeared, he thought grimly, looking at his tearstained cloth, that his efforts to get over Maggie had not entirely worked. That was not well done at all. Not at all.

Really, Amelia thought, tilting her neck so that Carson could gain better access, Edward should take his responsibilities as chaperone much more seriously. Or perhaps he thought Lady Matilda was supposed to be making certain Carson wasn’t taking liberties…or that she was happily giving him liberties. They were in a small alcove in the breakfast room, and as it was two o’clock in the afternoon it was quite deserted. Carson and Amelia had run to this room, laughing like children, knowing that they could kiss to their hearts’ content without being discovered.

Had anything ever felt better than a man’s lips on her neck? She was positively ready to melt to the floor, a puddle of lust. Yes, lust and desire and love. Love, love, love.

“I love you,” she said, smiling when he moved his hand up to cup her breast through her dress.

“An’ I love you, darling. I love everything about you. I just wish I could see more of you,” he said, pulling her dress away and pretending to peek.

Amelia gasped, more in delight than shock. “Sir, you mustn’t.”

“I love the way you talk, too. Mmmm.”

Amelia felt that
mmmm
right down to her toes.

“I think I’ll die if I can’t have you.”

Amelia laughed. “You won’t die, Carson.”

“I’ll expire right on the spot,” he said, his breath coming harsh as he reached around her back and started unbuttoning her dress.

“What are you doing?” Amelia asked, feeling the first bit of panic hit her.

“I just want to see you. That’s all. Just see you. I just know you’re going to be the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said. “It might be easier if you turned around.”

“I don’t think we should.”

“I do,” he said, kissing her neck and making her sigh. Then he started caressing her through her dress again, making her breast swell against his hand, making her nipple hard and aching. Until Carson, she’d had no idea, none at all, that a man would want to touch her this way or that she would so absolutely want him to.

“Oh, good Lord, Carson.”

“Mmmm,” he said, again, all the while his free hand worked those buttons, until she could feel the cool air on her back, delicious and naughty and wonderful. What would it hurt for him to simply look at her? She knew when to stop him. She knew she could never, ever let him take her virginity. Surely one look wouldn’t hurt. She turned around saucily, presenting her back, and was rewarded by a sharp intake of his breath.

“Lordy, you are a beauty,” he breathed. Then he finished unbuttoning quickly, and returned to kissing her neck. He drew her against him, until she could feel his erection against her buttocks, a frightening and glorious feeling. He moved his hands to her front, to cup her breasts again, but this time he was bolder, moving his body against hers in a rhythm that was erotic and intoxicating. “I want you so bad, honey. So bad. Can you feel how bad I want you? You’re drivin’ me crazy, darlin’.”

Then he slipped her dress from her shoulders and turned her gently around. In short work her corset was pushed down, her chemise unlaced, her breasts exposed to the cool air and his hot gaze.

“Holy God,” he said. “I’ve been dreamin’ of this from the first day I saw you, honey, and you’re better than any dream I’ve had.”

Amelia blushed, both from the compliment and from the embarrassment of having him stare at her so. She’d never thought of her breasts as beautiful or not. They were just part of her, a very feminine part to be sure, but nothing special. Now, as she looked down at her exposed breasts, she realized they were beautiful. He laid a hand on her bare breast and she closed her eyes. She felt him touch her nipple, twist it gently between his thumb and forefinger, and she nearly cried out at the exquisite feeling, a sharp, piercing sensation that went from her nipple to between her legs.

“Oh, Carson. Yes.”

“Yes, darlin’. Oh, God, I have to taste you.”

Amelia didn’t know what he meant until she felt his mouth on her breast, sucking, tugging, licking. And nothing had ever felt so good as what he was doing to her now. Nothing.

“I have to have you, Amelia. You know I love you, right, honey? I want you in my bed. Now. No one will know. No one goes into my room during the day.”

“Oh,” Amelia said, groaning in pleasure as he lavished her other breast with the same wonderful attention. She began moving her hips, unknowingly trying to assuage the building pressure between her legs. “I can’t,” she gasped, wishing with all her being that she could. “You know that.”

Carson muttered something beneath his breath. “You can’t get me all riled up and then leave me hangin’, darlin’,” he said, smiling. “You just can’t. Come on, darlin’, just a little bit more. Just…” He picked up her skirts and felt her firm buttocks, pulling her against his erection. “Just a little more. God, you’re killing me, darlin’.” His hand had somehow made it between her legs when Amelia’s sanity returned.

“No, Carson,” she said, pushing his hands away. But he brought them right back.

“Please, darlin’, you have to let me. I need you. I love you.”

“I know, Carson, but it’s not right. Not before we’re…” She stopped herself, because even though Carson had said he loved her, he’d yet to mention marriage. “I mean, I could never do that with any man I wasn’t married to.”

He kissed her nipples again, losing himself in her, and she allowed it because it felt so good and because as long as he was caressing her breasts he was staying away from where he oughtn’t to go.

“I’ll marry you, Amelia. I’ll marry you. Now, come on, darling,” he said, tugging up her skirts again, stopping only when she squealed in happiness.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Amelia said.

Carson pulled back looking momentarily confused. “Then let’s find us a fine bed and we’ll do this up proper.”

“No, you silly. I’ll marry you. Yes, of course I will. I love you. As to the other, we’ll just have to wait until we’re married. We’ll have to be quick about it, because you’re leaving so soon. Perhaps you could delay your departure? I was so hoping you could stay for the season. We must put the banns in the paper, find a church. Oh, and you have to ask Edward’s permission.”

“Permission,” Carson repeated.

“I really think that’s the proper thing to do. He is the head of the household, after all.”

Carson rubbed his jaw. “Well, sure, honey. I’ll do that. But…”

“But?”

“Well, I was just thinkin’ that if we’re getting married anyway, I sure don’t know if I can wait all that long.” He gently cupped her face in his hands. “You drive me crazy with wanting you, did you know that?”

Amelia smiled, his words making her entire body tingle. “You drive me quite crazy, too. I suppose if we are definitely getting married, it won’t do much harm.”

Carson let out a long breath. “Thank God, ’cause I’m about to bust here.”

“Not
tonight.
You must talk to Edward first. You understand, don’t you, Carson?”

He smiled. “Course I do. If anything was worth the wait, it’s you. I’ll talk to your brother tomorrow and we’ll see if we can get you and me engaged before I head back to Texas.”

Amelia squealed again and leaped into his arms. “Oh, Carson, I don’t believe I’ve ever been so happy in my life.”

Edward looked at Carson, dread in his heart. He knew, from the way the man was pacing, that he was here to ask for his sister’s hand. He didn’t want to give it.

“Lord Hollings,” the American said, looking as if he were about to be ill. “I’ve come here to ask for your sister’s hand in marriage.”

“I see.”

Carson Kitteridge was about the same age as Edward, and yet at that moment, the American looked far younger. “Well. Can I?”

Edward narrowed his eyes. “Do you love my sister?”

“Sure,” he said affably.

“My sister is accustomed to a certain way of life. I don’t know if she’d be suited to life on a farm in Texas.”

He expected Carson to bristle as his use of the word “farm” but he didn’t.

“I think Miss Hollings would do fine.”

Edward gave him a grim smile. “Yes, I’m sure she would. My question, however, pertained to whether or not you can support my sister. I know nothing of your ranch, your home, your income.”

“I do all right.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what that means. What is your income, sir?”

Carson looked taken aback. “It’s enough.”

Edward let out a sigh of frustration. “My good man, you are coming to me to gain my permission to marry my sister. She is used to living like this,” he said, making a sweeping motion with his hand. “She is used to having servants, buying the finest things. While I would never say she is spoiled, one does become accustomed to living a certain way. I simply want to be certain you can provide my sister with a good life.”

“Sure I can.”

Edward narrowed his eyes and wondered whether Mr. Kitteridge was not quite the brightest fellow. “What is your income, sir?”

“Money goes a lot further in Texas. My brother and I own one of the largest ranches in Texas. We have more than one thousand head of cattle. I don’t know exactly what that’s worth, ’cause the market fluctuates a bit every year. But it’s enough to keep your sister wearing all the frewfaws she wants and then some. My house may not be as grand as this one, but it’s the grandest house in Small Fork, that’s for sure. Now, sir, can I marry your sister or what?”

Edward drummed his fingers on his desk, torn as to what to do. He knew his little sister would never forgive him if he forbade her to wed this man. He’d never seen her so consumed by anyone. Unfortunately, Edward knew all too well how love could make you act rather insane. Clearly, Amelia was engaged in an infatuation, one that most likely would run its course until Amelia came to her senses. The problem was, Kitteridge was leaving in less than two weeks. This was something he’d never thought to encounter. He always thought Amelia would meet someone in England, someone he perhaps knew or at least someone he could ask questions about. He leaned back into his chair and steepled his fingers against his mouth.

Standing abruptly, he said, “I’ll give my permission, but I want my sister to have a season first, to make certain this is what she wants. If she still wants to travel to Texas in June, I’ll happily let her go.”

Kitteridge looked amazingly pleased with the plan. “That sounds right generous of you,” he said. Then, apparently seeing Edward’s confusion, he quickly added, “It’s not that I don’t want to get married right away, but I’m just glad you saw fit to say yes. You see, I have to get back to Texas. My older brother’s been in charge, you see, and he’s a bit dim-witted. Lord knows what he’s been doing while I’ve been gallivanting around England. I can’t stay here until June. Tell you what. I’ll go back home and send for her.”

Edward smiled. “If Amelia still wants to get married, I’ll send her off.” Edward was quite certain that once Amelia experienced her first season, the last thing she’d want to do would be to head to a strange land to marry a man she hardly knew. Chances were his fickle little sister would fall in love with someone far more appropriate than Carson Kitteridge. And if she didn’t and still wanted to go to Texas, then he’d reluctantly let her go.

“In the meantime, we’d be more than happy if you would stay here through New Year’s. It will get a bit chaotic with the children, but we’ve no other plans and Amelia would love to have you.”

Kitteridge gave him a grin that fairly lit up the room. “That sounds right nice,” he said, clapping his hands together.

As he left, Edward wondered whether the man truly did love his sister. He was willing to wait for her, and he’d seemed sincerely happy that the meeting had gone well. And, Edward noted, he hadn’t even asked about a dowry. That was perhaps the most interesting thing of all.