A Seduction at Christmas (10 page)

And Fiona knew the best way to deal with this sort of woman who feigned innocence while delivering insults was to be gracious and generous. It was a trick her mother had taught her.

“Please, Your Grace,” she said. “I’m certain it is a surprise for Her Grace to discover you have a guest. Especially when she is mourning the loss of a friend.”

The dowager turned her head and gave Fiona a hard, clear-eyed stare. Fiona returned her gaze with a level one of her own, all the time keeping a smile on her face.

After all, that was what “riffraff” did.

“Yes, well, thank you for understanding,” his mother said to Fiona at last. She didn’t apologize for her comment, but broke off a bit of sausage and hand-fed it to Master Rockford. Fiona knew she was considering ways to remove her from the house.

“Mother,” Holburn said, his patience at an end, “who died?”

“You are very testy this morning,” she complained. “But since you should know, it is Lord Belkins. You did know him, didn’t you? They found his body in the park.”

“B
elkins is dead?” Holburn repeated.

Fiona felt the food she’d eaten churn in her stomach. She sank into her chair. The duke came behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, giving them a small squeeze. She knew he was reminding her to be brave. However, the movement was not lost on his mother.

Her eyes turned to shards of blue. “Didn’t I just say as much?”

“Mother, this is a shock,” he said.

“I’m shocked as well,” she told him.

“I saw Belkins yesterday at my club,” he continued. “He was hale and hearty. How did he die?”

“I don’t know,” his mother answered. “It’s not
even in the papers yet. His mother Louise and I have been friends for years. I had a note from her two hours ago saying her son had been found dead in the park and begging me to come around. Poor Louise. Belkins was her favorite since he was the heir. She lived under his roof. I don’t know what will become of her now. His brother will inherit and she doesn’t know
what
that means. I’m so fortunate, Holburn, that you have made provisions for me in case of your demise. I would
hate
for my fate to be left to Brandt and Maven. I don’t see how my husband could have such disagreeable brothers.” She gave Master Rockford another bite of sausage. “Why, they would turn me out into the street, and then what would poor Rocky and I do?” She kissed the dog as he was licking his snout.

“My uncles wouldn’t turn you out, Mother,” Holburn answered. “They might make your life miserable, but you wouldn’t be on the street.”

“Don’t be so certain,” she said. “They’ve never liked me. They’d plotted against me for years.”

“Well, you no longer need to worry,” he said as if they’d had this conversation before. “You’ll have a very healthy independence upon my death. They can’t touch that money.”

Her Grace held out her hand to him across the table, the gesture coming off disingenuous to
Fiona. It must have struck him the same because he didn’t make a move toward her. The dowager pulled her hand back, her lips pursing into a pout. “Such a good son,” she cooed. “His only weakness is women.”

The air crackled with Holburn’s temper. “I’m not weak around women.”

“No, they are weak around you,” his mother said agreeably. “Aren’t they, Miss Lachlan?”

Fiona did not want to be dragged into this. The woman was impossible.

The duke looked at Williams. “Leave us, and take that damn dog.”

“He stays with me,” the dowager said but the footman had his orders. He slipped Master Rockford out of her arms and carried him out.

Holburn stood, leaning on one hand across the table to confront his mother. “Miss Lachlan is a guest,” he said, his voice in tight control. “For the period that she is under my roof, she will be my ward—”

“Ward?” his mother queried. She fussed with the black lace around her neckline. “Wait until Brandt and Maven hear this. They will roar their disapproval.”

“They can howl at the full moon for all I care,” Holburn returned evenly. “What I won’t tolerate is any disrespect shown to Miss Lachlan.”

There was an edge to his voice that brooked no disrespect.

His mother eyed him mutinously and then said, “Oh, very well. Do as you wish. You always do anyway. I’m still miffed at you for advancing my allowance.”

The duke’s expression grew stony. “We’ve been over this.”

“I’m still not happy.”

“You rarely are,” his son said.

“Am I to have no say about my life?” she said, coming to her feet. “Look at her. Her dress is atrocious and that hair would suit a witch—”

“Enough,
” he said. Fiona wished she could hide under the table.

The dowager raised a hand. “You are right. I am too blunt in my opinions, although it is a trait we both share, my son.”

Every time she said, “my son,” a chill went up Fiona’s spine. She wondered if the duke felt the same way.

“If you want your ward, you may have her.” She picked up her black handkerchief. “I must be going. Louise is waiting. We were so close at one time, Louise and I. All I need is Master Rockford and I’ll go. You and Miss Lachlan may be alone—”

At that moment, there was a din of dog barking coming from the butler’s pantry. The dowager
reached the door first and threw it open. Master Rockford streaked into the room, a brown blur of running feet. She swept him up into the safety of her arms.

The footmen followed. They held Tad by a rope line. “I’m sorry, Your Grace,” Larson said. “Master Rockford wanted the wolfhound’s steak.”

“And that huge dog attacked him?” the dowager said shrilly.

“No, Your Grace,” Larson said, “Master Rockford attacked old Tad here. Went right after him as if he thought they were the same size.” Larson sounded dutifully respectful, but Williams was having a hard time keeping his humor in check.

“Of course he would. Rocky is not a coward,” the dowager replied, soothing her shaking dog.

Larson looked to the duke. “Tad really did try and keep his temper,” he said. “But when Master Rockford sank his teeth into his steak, the wolfhound had enough. He put one paw on Master Rockford and continued eating. That was what the barking was about. Master Rockford was upset.”

“As well he should be,” the dowager declared. “Dominic, I want that monstrous dog gone by the time I return today.” She didn’t wait for an answer but went charging out of the room.

Fiona was mortified. Nor was she going to let Tad leave without her. They would go together.

“I know what you are thinking, Fee,” Holburn said, “and don’t worry. Tad isn’t leaving. My mother makes pronouncements like this all the time. The house is large enough for both dogs to live peacefully, and they probably will if she stays out of it.”

His words were exactly what she wanted to hear. Over breakfast, she had adjusted to the idea of staying here, even if it was only for a day or two. “I’m sorry Tad upset Master Rockford.”

“I’m not,” the duke said. “Rocky has needed a comeuppance for a while, hasn’t he, lads?”

The footmen nodded. They were openly grinning now. Williams scratched Tad’s neck.

The duke held out his arm. “Come, Fee, let me show you to your room. Are you coming, Tad?” The wolfhound joined them.

Once they were out in the hallway, he murmured, “What were you saying about a happy atmosphere?”

“I stand corrected,” she confessed. “Is she always like that?”

His expression grew troubled. He didn’t answer right away but waited until they’d reached the top of the stairs. It was clear they were alone here. The servants were off doing other things.

“Yes, she is always like that,” he said in answer to her earlier questions.

“I’m sorry,” she said and meant the words.

He shrugged. “It’s just her silliness. Mother doesn’t feel she fits in. She always has believed the
ton
frowned on her, and she’s right. They have. She was a lovely opera dancer who captured the heart of a duke. My father wasn’t a practical man like his brothers.”

“Is that the Brandt and Maven she referred to?”

Holburn nodded. “Lord Brandt and Lord Maven, my illustrious uncles. She’s right to dislike them.”

“They have been cruel to her?”

“Not cruel—disapproving. They disapprove of everyone who doesn’t fit their rigid set of expectations. They earned their own titles through service and money in the right places but they have little consideration for mother, who earned her title using the oldest method of all—love.”

“So she and your father were a love match?” Fiona asked, anxious to find something good about the dowager.

“On his part,” the duke said. “Mother is so mercurial, she feels one thing today and another tomorrow.”

“It must be hard to have a woman like that in your life.”

Holburn gave a quick shrug. “I understand her. She always attends to her own welfare. I see her when she wants something or, like downstairs,
when we happen to meet. Otherwise, we stay out of each other’s way. You won’t need to worry about her. Come,” he said, changing the subject. “Let me take you to your room.”

Fiona had other questions she could have asked, but she knew when the subject was done.

Nick led Fee down the hall to the room he’d directed for her use. Tad followed.

“I’m going to Belkins’s house to pay my respects and see if I can learn something about his whereabouts last evening,” he told her. He stepped back and let her enter the bedroom first.

She took two steps in and then stopped dead in her tracks. Her breath came out in a soft sound of appreciation. “This is lovely.”

Nick thought
she
was lovely. He no longer saw the crumpled clothes or the mussed hair. Instead, her spirit seemed to glow around her. He had to pull his gaze away to look around the room and see it as she did.

Soft yellow walls, India carpets, cream-colored furniture with blue bed clothes. It looked the same as the other rooms in his home, except now he was seeing it through her eyes—and felt a twinge of pride as she walked around, her eyes admiring everything. Tad went straight to the fire in the grate and flopped down.

Nick was especially pleased that the servants had placed a bouquet of flowers on the bedside table.

Fee saw those immediately. “Roses?” She turned to him. “How can you have roses in winter?”

“There’s a hothouse in the back. The gardener prides himself on his flowers.” Nick had never paid particular attention to the flowers before. It had been another of his father’s lavish fancies.

But right now, watching Fee touch the velvety petals in wonder, seeing her lean down to smell them, he thought it the best thing his father had ever done.

She smiled at him. “I’m amazed. They’re beautiful…or is it that they are all the more special, because I wasn’t expecting to see them?”

Just as he hadn’t expected to see her smile.

For a second, Nick stood transfixed by that smile. Fiona Lachlan was a lovely woman by anyone’s standards. Since setting eyes on her, he’d wanted her. He liked her. He’d be happy to bed her.

However, that smile…it didn’t just change her face, but created in him feelings he’d never experienced before. He wanted to touch her, yearned to put his arms around her. Breathing became hard, as if his heart beat twice as fast.

An image floated in his mind, an image of her
smiling not over roses but over him. Over her pleasure at
being
with him,
trusting
him…
loving
him.

Nick took a step back, startled by the directions of his thoughts.

He didn’t believe in love. No one he knew was in “love,” at least, not with their spouses and relationships with mistresses never lasted.

Nick
had
witnessed one-sided love, but he considered that lust. His father had been a prime example of that. He had lusted for Nick’s mother and “won” a dubious prize.

“Is something the matter?” Fee asked, coming toward him in concern. “You’ve gone pale.”

“I’m fine.” He held up a hand to ward her off and searched his scrambled mind for a safe topic. “Tell me the name of your friend again. I’ll stop by the theater and warn her not to go back to your rooms.”

“Grace McEachin.”

“Covent Gardens, right?”

“Yes.” She peered up at his face, obviously not convinced he was fine. “Let me feel your head. Perhaps you are still feeling the effects of that potion.”

Nick knew he couldn’t let her touch him, not with a bed close at hand. He backed away. “You need to sleep. You have huge circles under your eyes.”

“I am tired,” she admitted and yawned.

Dear Lord, even her yawns were attractive. “If you need anything, pull the cord by the door and ring for a servant.”

He didn’t wait for her answer but left, closing the door behind him.

At last, he could breathe again.

Nick leaned back against her door, still dizzy from being close to her inside her room. He’d never gone buffle-headed over a woman before. He’d wanted them, liked them, had them.

Beware innocence.

The mystery behind the Oracle’s prophecy haunted him. Fee wasn’t an innocent. A woman didn’t survive on her own without learning hard lessons. She’d paid a price. He saw it in her eyes…but that didn’t make her “safe.”

The Irishmen, Belkins’s death…the vision of Fee’s face as the Oracle. Forces were at work that he didn’t understand. Or that a sane man would refute.

He glanced up and down the hall. This was his home, and yet he felt a stranger. It was an eerie feeling.

Nick walked to his room and was relieved to open the door and see his valet Gannon waiting with fresh clothing. The world fell back into place again.

“Is something the matter, Your Grace?” Gannon
asked. He was a short man with frizzled gray hair and impeccable taste.

“Why do you ask?” The words came out sharper than he had intended.

“You seem preoccupied, Your Grace. That is all.”

Nick forced himself to relax. He reached for an excuse. “Lord Belkins died either last night or early this morning. I’ll be paying a call on Lady Belkins as soon as I’m dressed.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Gannon said as he turned to the bureau of drawers and pulled out a black armband.

“Oh, and another matter, Gannon,” Nick said as he prepared to turn himself over to his valet’s skillful administrations, “I have brought home a guest. She’s my ward.” Like the other servants in the house, the valet was too well trained to even so much as raise an eyebrow. “She needs clothing and all the toiletry articles a woman likes. See to it while I’m out. I know you’ll do well.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Should I also assign one of the maids to her?”

“Of course,” Nick said. “Just don’t let it be one of my mother’s favorites. I’ll have no carrying of tales.”

“Understood, Your Grace.”

With that, Nick sat in the chair in his changing room and let Gannon do his magic. Less than an
hour later, he was out his door where a groom walked his favorite mount, a dark bay gelding by the name of Jack.

As Nick started to mount, he caught a movement amongst the trees in the park across the road. A pasty white face had pulled back just as he’d looked in that direction. It had to be one of the Irishmen. He wondered if it was Liam or John or even their leader, Thomas.