A Regency Christmas Pact Collection (4 page)

He almost believed her protestation. Almost. But any girl who would take up with the Marquess of Stalbridge…

She heaved a steadying breath, started for the doorway and said over her shoulder, “I’ll find my uncle and we’ll leave Wellesbourne just as soon as we can gather our things.”

Damn it all! Panic seized Berks’s heart. He must have misjudged the situation. Though he’d rather not have Miss Birkin or her uncle under his roof, Harry and Pippa were already put out with him. If Miss Birkin left because of what he’d said, there was no telling how his siblings would react.

Berks dashed in front of the girl, blocking her exit. “Don’t. I’m… Well, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? For what?” She tipped her head back and her sea-colored eyes locked with his, as though she could peer straight into his soul. “Suggesting that I would carry on an affair with Lord St. Austell, or for you acknowledging what sort of woman you think I am?”

He really wasn’t sure what he was sorry for, whichever one wouldn’t send her fleeing into the frigid night. “For, um, insulting you.”

“It’s clear you’re not happy that my uncle and I have come. I think it’s best if we return home and leave you to your family.”

Damn it. Did she want him to beg? “My family, it seems, is all very happy that you’re here, Miss Birkin. Please don’t destroy their holiday because I was less than gentlemanly.”

Her brow furrowed just as bit, as though she was seriously contemplating his words.

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” he promised. “Just don’t leave.”

She sighed, looking a bit world weary, making Berks truly feel sorry for what he’d said. It had been inexcusable. She had every right to tell him to go hang.

“You won’t make Miranda cry anymore?” she asked quietly.

Berks snorted. “I’m not sure how I made her cry the last time.”

A strangled laugh escaped Miss Birkin and she shook her head. “You don’t have a clue how to talk to women, do you?”

He bristled slightly, not that her words mattered. He didn’t need to know how to talk to women. He wasn’t ever getting leg-shackled to one, so what was the point? “Are you going to stay or not, Miss Birkin?”

“For now.” She smiled softly, making her look, once again, like the sweetest of angels. “But I’ll try to stay out of your way, my lord.” And then with that, she stepped around Berks, leaving him alone in the drawing room with just the faintest scent of gardenias hanging in the air.

For the briefest of seconds, he wasn’t certain he wanted her to stay out of his way at all. There was something about her angelic face. But the thought was fleeting. He most certainly did not want to give a second thought to Theresa Birkin. Women were to be avoided, from Lady Arrington right on down the list. Just a few moments in the weepy Miranda’s company was enough to reinforce that thought.

We both know what sort of woman you are, Miss Birkin.
Tessie barely tasted the turtle soup on her spoon. She barely heard Lord Harrison’s attempt at conversation to her right. She couldn’t get those awful words out of her mind, no matter how she tried.

We both know what sort of woman you are, Miss Birkin
. So much for Miranda’s insistence that no one knew about Tessie’s fall from grace. Lord Berkswell most assuredly knew the truth. There wasn’t anything else he could have meant by such a statement.

We both know what sort of woman you are, Miss Birkin.
Her soul hurt. She knew, of course, that her foolish choices of her youth would stain her existence. But hearing those words from such a highly respected man, with that condescending tone… Well, she hadn’t expected the pain to hurt quite so much.

She felt his glare on her from the head of the table, but she couldn’t make herself look in his direction. She couldn’t meet his eyes again, not after his words, not after he’d figured out why Miranda and Pippa had invited her to Wellesbourne.

She’d keep her word, however. She’d stay in Warwickshire through the holidays and she would try her best to avoid Lord Berkswell at all costs.

As soon as the women left the men to their port, Tessie made her excuses to Miranda, Pippa, and the Casemores’ great aunt Eugenia. Then she escaped into the safety of her bedchamber and sank in a slump onto her four-poster. It was just a fortnight. She could do anything for a fortnight.

A knock sounded at her door and Tessie closed her eyes. Couldn’t she just be left in peace? “I’m not feeling well.”

But the door cracked open anyway and Miranda’s head poked inside. “You were feeling perfectly fine earlier.”

She had been. “Yes, before I discovered why you’d really brought me here.”

Miranda frowned, but pushed the door wider and then stepped over the threshold. “It’s not what you think.”

“It’s not?” Tessie sat up straight on her bed. “You and Pippa didn’t bring me here to match me up with her unfriendly brother? Did I misunderstand Lord St. Austell completely, then?”

Miranda closed the door behind her, then crossed the room. “He’s not as bad as all that.”

“He had you in tears.”

“An unsatisfying breakfast has me in tears.” She leaned against one of the bedposts. “I admit, Pippa and I thought we’d see if the two of you could make a match of it; but that’s not the real reason I invited you here.”

Tessie lifted her brow.

“You are my dearest friend. Just because I’m married, I don’t want that to change. I want you to always be part of my life, and that includes holidays.”

“I’ll always be a part of your life.”

Miranda’s hazel eyes lit with mischief. “But if you were my
sister
…”

Tessie shook her head. “I wouldn’t hold my breath, if I were you. I hardly think the two of us would suit.” Especially since he knew about her unfortunate circumstances, but she didn’t want to say as much to Miranda. There was nothing to be done about the situation and talking about it only reopened wounds Tessie would just as soon let heal. Not that such a thing was possible, but there was no reason to make them worse.

“I hardly thought Harry and I would suit. He was rather arrogant when we met.”

Tessie laughed. She couldn’t help it. She’d heard all about the unorthodox way Miranda had met Lord Harrison. “And I’m certain
you
weren’t arrogant in the least.”

The mischievous twinkle was once again in her friend’s eyes. “Not comparatively.”

Tessie laughed harder. “Then he must have been in rare form that evening.”

“He has his moments.” Miranda shrugged. “And so does Berks. He’s not really such a grump all the time. I think Pippa’s right. It must be that funeral.”

It had more to do with the fact that he knew what sort of woman Tessie really was, she was certain. But she didn’t want to say those words aloud. “I don’t find him appealing in the least,” she said. But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie.

Lord Berkswell wasn’t her sort, that bit was true; but even through his grumpiness, she could tell he was of strong character and was devoted to his family. Both were quit admirable qualities.

“You don’t find him handsome?” her friend asked hopefully.

He was more than handsome, but that was beside the point. “We won’t suit. So stop all of your attempts at matchmaking.”

Miranda’s lips pursed in annoyance.

“I’m serious.”

“I know.” Miranda pouted. “But if you’d just give him a chance. Just the tiniest chance…”

To do what? Remind her once again of the sort of woman he knew her to be? Tessie thought not. She was well aware of her past and didn’t need any reminders. “We won’t suit,” she repeated. “And as my dearest friend, I’ll ask you to honor my wishes.”

“You are stubborn,” Miranda sulked.

Coming from Miranda that was saying something. But Tessie wouldn’t let her friend bait her. “Does his lordship possess a nice library?”

“Probably,” Miranda replied, her voice tinged with regret. “I haven’t gone looking for it.”

“I suppose I’ll have to find out on my own then.”

Pippa St. Austell smiled at her great aunt Eugenia, who seemed to glow with happiness. Aunt Eugenia had always been the happy sort, but never as much as she was this holiday. Pippa reached across the settee and squeezed her aunt’s hand. “It
is
good too see you again. I’ve missed you. You’ll have to come visit Jason and me in Cornwall next summer.”

Aunt Eugenia grinned in response. “It’s so good to have all of you under one roof again, almost like it was when you were children. And now with Jason and Miranda here too… Well, there’s more life at Wellesborne than there has been in years.” She touched a frail hand to her heart. “And little Edmund is simply precious, Pippa. I am so happy everything has turned out so lovely for you.”

So was Pippa. “Thank you.”

“And next year we’ll have another little one to celebrate.” Her aunt beamed. “I wish your father could see all of you now. You and Harry both so happy.”

Pippa barely remembered Papa. She’d been so young when he’d passed. But Berks had been there for her, making certain she was well-cared for and wanted for nothing. It was only fair she return the favor now. “I wish we could say the same for Berks.”

A sniff from the doorway caught Pippa’s attention and she glanced over to find Miranda stepping into the drawing room. “I could strangle that husband of yours,” she complained. “He’s ruined everything!”

Oh dear, her sister-in-law’s eyes were red and slightly puffy. Again. “What did Jason do?” Pippa asked, rising to her feet.

Miranda shook her head in frustration. “He told her. He told Tessie everything.”

“Everything?” Aunt Eugenia echoed. “Everything about what?”

Pippa frowned in response. “Everything about…”

“Yes!” Miranda nearly wailed. “Everything about Berks, everything about our plans. Why did you even tell him? I would never tell Harry. He’d just try to control everything.”

Pippa wasn’t certain how Jason knew of their plans. But he was most definitely a crafty man when he put his mind to it. “Honestly, Miranda, I didn’t say one word to him.”

Miranda sniffed once more. “I’m not sure how you tolerate that man, Pippa. I really don’t understand it.”

Because she loved him with all her heart. But no one else understood Jason the way Pippa did, no one ever had. “He must have had a good reason if—”

“That he doesn’t like interfering females?” Miranda suggested waspishly. “And now she’s made me promise to stop all matchmaking efforts.”

“Matchmaking?” Aunt Eugenia asked. “Who are we playing matchmaker for?”

Pippa glanced back at her aunt on the settee. “Berks.”

The old woman’s face lit up. “And that nice Miss Birkin?” She clapped her hands together with glee. “Oh, that is wonderful. She’s so kind to her uncle.”

As Pippa nodded, Miranda wailed, “But it’s all for naught now. Tessie is quite adamant about the situation.”

“She doesn’t like Berks?” Aunt Eugenia’s brow furrowed as her voice rose in disbelief.

“He was far from charming today.” Miranda folded her arms across her chest. “But that is neither here nor there any longer. I gave her my word I wouldn’t interfere, and she’ll hold me to it.”

“Well, I didn’t promise anything,” Pippa replied evenly. “Nor shall I.”

“Neither did I,” Aunt Eugenia added.

Miranda snorted. “Then avoid the library at the moment, or she’ll coerce one out of you too. She’s very stubborn when she sets her mind on something.”

Pippa resisted the urge to say that Miranda was the most stubborn woman of her acquaintance. Such a statement would send her sister-in-law bolting from the room in a flood tears once more, and that wouldn’t do anyone a bit of good. She smiled supportively instead. “I’ll avoid the library at the moment then.”

Theresa Birkin hadn’t looked at him even once over dinner. Not once. Berks had been certain that when she left the table with the other women, he’d catch her eye. But Miss Birkin hadn’t paid him the least bit of notice.

Of course, she’d said she’d try to stay out of his way, and while he should have been relieved by that fact, he felt the furthest thing from it. He couldn’t quite get the image of her out of his mind, the look of pain when he’d maligned her character. His apology had been lacking. He’d realized that almost as soon as she left him alone in the drawing room. Though he was at a loss as to what to do about it.

If he apologized again, more earnestly, he’d just be bringing the subject up once more. That wasn’t the best plan. He could tell her there was no reason to avoid him, but… Well, she’d have to actually notice him in order for him to do so.

She
would
do so. Just as soon as the men rejoined the women. He’d pull her to the side and tell her that he was a terrible host and that she was welcome anywhere at Wellesbourne she wished to be.

Like in his bed.

For the love of God! Where the devil had that thought come from? In his damned bed, indeed! He’d made a pact to avoid women, and most certainly ones of questionable sanity. A sane woman wouldn’t take up with Stalbridge. Of that there was no doubt. She
seemed
sane, however. She seemed bright, even if she did stumble over Bach and had gotten herself involved with that ne’er-do-well.