A Seduction at Christmas (19 page)

He lifted his head, propping it up with one hand to give her a lazy smile in return. “Yours,” he answered.

“Thank you.”

Nick shook his head. “No, thank you. That was special, Fee. It’s never been like that for me. Ever. You and I were meant for each other.”

Her heart gave a leap. “As if it was destiny,” she said.

“It was,” he eagerly agreed. “And this coupling…Fee, it has never been this way with anyone. There is magic between us. Power.”

She laughed. A part of her thought he talked nonsense. Another part wanted to believe.

He sensed her doubt. “I make no joke. You are mine. You were meant to be mine.” He reached for the bedcovers and threw them over their nakedness. Their legs were entwined; their bodies still fitted together. “I’m not letting go of you.”

Fiona snuggled close, relishing his heat. She rubbed her nose against his chest. “Good, because I could spend the rest of my life right here.”

“I wouldn’t complain,” he said.

She lay content for a moment, but then her earlier concern intruded. “Have you forgiven the Spaniard?”

He went still. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I think you wanted to.”

Nick carried her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her fingers. “Don’t worry about him,” he ordered quietly.

She raised her head. “I think there is something I must tell you.”

“What?” he asked, his voice cautious, and she knew she had to tell him.

The story of her parents’ deaths—her father for defying the king’s soldiers, her mother of a broken heart—poured out of her. She told him about Gordon and losing touch with her brother.

She told him of the day the soldiers took her away. She held nothing back.

He listened, his expression changing from concern to outrage. An angry muscle tightened in his jaw. She placed her hand upon it. “Please, don’t be this way.”

“What way, Fee? I’m furious over what they did to you.”

“It was war, Nick. My brother was a rebel. They didn’t do it to me but to him.”

He came up to sit with his back against the headboard. “How can you forgive them?”

“Because you’ve taught me that it is more important to love,” she said. “I no longer care about what they did…but you must know because someday, my path will cross with one of them. Or someone will know my story.” She placed her palm against his chest. “I love you, Nick. I will always love you. But you must know, I’m not worthy of you.”

“Fee, what happened was not your fault. Don’t you understand that? I would never blame you for what was done.”

“I still bear the shame.”

He turned her around to face him. “You have no shame. You are strong and resilient. You are a survivor, Fee, and you should be proud of that. As to wagging tongues, let me be your guardian. They’ll not say a word when you stand beside me.”

She pressed her fingers over his lips. “Don’t speak that way. You are the most generous, noble man I have ever met. And I believe you are right. Destiny brought us together and I shall always be thankful of these moments. But I must protect you from yourself.”

Nick took her hand, lacing her fingers with his own. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” she assured him.

“Then stop thinking, Fee. Live for right now and right here. The future will take care of itself.”

She knew he said that because he didn’t understand how quickly life could change…but that was fine. She wanted to live in
this
moment. She never wanted dawn to come. Then, in the light of day, he’d realize she was right. He’d know he could do far better than herself.

In fact, she would be doing him a service by making the decision for them and leaving on the morrow. To stay longer would lead to sharper heartbreak. She’d write to him, let him know where she was, and pray that there would be a place for her in his life, albeit a small unimportant one.

Nick shook his head. “You are thinking too much again. How shall I persuade you to stop?” He took her by both arms. “Fee, together, we can face anything.”

“I want to believe that—”

“Then
believe
,” he said, cutting off her protest.

He really thought it would be so simple. Fiona knew differently. She’d lived in London’s streets, waited on the
ton.
She’d heard them in unguarded moments—and then she realized, it didn’t matter.

But right now, all she wanted to do was celebrate being in love.

Fiona reached up and kissed him. Laughing, he
fell back on the bed, bringing her with him in a tangle of arms and legs and kisses and hugs that grew more intent in purpose with each passing moment.

This time, she knew what to expect.

This time, making love to him was better than the last.

Fiona’s first thought when she woke the next morning was, now, I am his mistress.

She had crossed the line. Willingly.

Her heart and her body belonged to Dominic Lynsted and she felt no remorse…or told herself she didn’t until she reached across the mattress for him and realized he wasn’t there.

He’d left her already.

Once again, she was alone. Panic threatened to choke her.

She clutched her pillow, forcing herself to be calm, and focused on Nick’s promises. He’d asked her to trust him…and she would.
She must.
She’d already gone too far to turn back now.

Her months as a seamstress had taught her a bit about the life of a mistress. Or at least the luxuries of being one. The wife was the one who had to make an accounting for every item of clothing and every household expense no matter how insignificant. The mistress bought what she
wished. She answered to no one, sometimes not even to her patron.

Like Grace, the women who became mistresses knew how to live by their wits and make the most of their charms. They also understood how to move on to another protector when the current man in their lives lost interest.

Fiona frowned at the ceiling. She didn’t know if she could survive if Nick turned away from her—

She immediately rejected the direction of her thoughts. She
would
survive. Loss had become a part of her life and she’d already survived much worse. Last night, she’d felt fully alive. She’d not allow her fears to rob her of this joy.

There was a scratching at the door. Tad wanted to be let in.

Fiona sat up and then froze, realizing that over the past night she’d exercised muscles she hadn’t even known existed. Pushing her tangle of hair back from her face, she ignored those sore muscles and found her night dress. She slipped into it before going over to the door to let Tad in.

A cold draft across the floor made her bare toes curl in the carpet. The level of the light leaking into the room from behind the closed curtains made her realize the day was later than when she usually woke and she wondered what had happened to
Sarah. Fiona was growing spoiled. She liked having the maid stoke the fire before she rose and the dozens of other things Sarah did for her.

Once Fiona opened the door, the big wolfhound happily padded into her room, stopped, and sniffed the air. Fiona crossed her arms, knowing Tad sensed Holburn had been here—but then the dog did the silliest thing. He turned his head, looked right at Fiona and gave her a big wolfish grin of approval.

“So you like it here?” Fiona said to him softly.

Tad walked over to her and nudged her hand with his nose.

She stooped down and put her arms around him. “I believe Holburn will let you stay here although I won’t be able to.” As his mistress, she would be an outsider. She would live somewhere else while he divided his time between his real life and herself.

Fiona pressed her face against Tad’s fur, hugging him tightly. She’d grown to like Gillian and Aunt Agatha and all the others. She didn’t want to think of how their opinions would change once they learned of her and Holburn. Or had they suspected it would? His fib about her being his ward was complete nonsense.

A knock on the door warned her it was about to open. Sarah entered the room. “There you are, miss,”
Sarah’s sunny voice said. “It’s almost luncheon, so I didn’t know if I should bother with a tray of hot chocolate or not and then decided to prepare it anyway.”

Fiona held her breath as the maid carried the tray to the desk by the window. Could she tell that Holburn had been here? If Sarah did, she gave no sign.

“His Grace told me to let you sleep,” Sarah said as she opened the draperies. “It’s cold and damp outside. A good morning for a snooze.”

“That was kind of him to let me sleep,” Fiona said, standing.

“Would you like to bathe this morning?” Sarah asked, her expression betraying nothing but her usually good humor.

“Yes, that would be nice.”

“Very well. I shall make preparations.”

Fiona held her breath until the maid left and then almost collapsed where she stood. Tad watched her with interest.

“I don’t know if I can be sophisticated about all this,” she told him. “There’s no way she couldn’t have known. The servants gossip. Holburn’s valet had to know he didn’t sleep in his bed last night.”

Tad poked his nose at her hand for another pet as if telling her to stop worrying.

An hour and half later, Fiona was bathed,
dressed, and had enjoyed a stimulating cup of chocolate before she went downstairs to face everyone. A footman met her at the bottom of the stairs to inform her the family had already gathered in the dining room for the mid day meal.

That was unusual. Breakfast and luncheon were informal events with food being put out on the sideboard and the family members eating when they wished. Then around half past six, they would gather for the formal evening meal.

Fiona didn’t know why the routine would be upset. She couldn’t remember Gillian or anyone else telling her about this change.

Realizing she was likely the last one to join the table, she hurried down the hall toward the sounds of conversation and laughter.

They had not yet started eating and today, the children were included. Fiona glanced around the busy room full of Nick’s relatives and waited for Williams the footman to pull a chair out for her. All in all, there were some fifteen people gathered for this holiday season. Nick stood at the head of the table, pouring glasses of wine, which he proudly distributed.

The room went quiet as everyone realized she stood in the doorway. Their expressions looked expectant as if they had all been waiting for her.

A huge welcoming smile crossed Nick’s face.
For a second, Fiona forgot where she was or that they had an audience. A woman could drown in a smile like that, especially when it was just for her. He held out a hand and all her reservations fled her mind.

“Fee, at last you join us. Your maid said you would not be long. Come and sit by me,” he ordered. He turned his attention back to the glasses that Larson and a maid helped distribute. “Does everyone have one?”

“I don’t,” said six-year-old Davey, one of Holburn’s many cousins, and the adults all laughed.

“Raise your mug of milk,” Aunt Agatha instructed.

The duchess was at the other end of the table from her son. Colonel Swanson, her “cavalier,” as Gillian called him, was seated beside her. A frown formed on the duchess’s face as Fiona walked to stand beside her son. “What is this about, Dominic? Why have you ordered us all here and interrupted our other plans?”

“I have an announcement to make.” Nick drew Fiona closer to his side. “But first, let me ask one question.”

Puzzled eyebrows raised with interest and necks craned for a better look. Fiona didn’t know what to expect. Certainly he wasn’t going to announce that she was his mistress.

Dominic took her hands in his. With everyone in the room as witnesses, he said, “Fiona Lachlan, would you honor me with your hand in marriage?”

He’d proposed marriage to her.

Her fondest wish was being granted to her. Holburn didn’t want her for a mistress. He wanted her for a wife.

But as she opened her mouth to shout a glad
yes
at the top of her lungs, his mother stood and said, “
No
. No, no, no, no,
no.
”

E
veryone in the room, even the servants, turned with stunned surprise at the dowager’s outburst.

But her attention was on Nick. “You shall not marry
that
woman. You don’t
need
to marry.”

“I will marry her.” He spoke to his mother but he meant the words for Fee, who had gone deathly pale. He knew his love’s character well enough by now to understand that his mother’s words had hit their target. Fee silently agreed with his mother. She did believe herself unworthy. That was the reason he’d gathered everyone. He wanted Fee to know how proud he was to ask her to be his wife.

Why, he wouldn’t be surprised if Fee had assumed he had thought to make her his mistress instead of offering marriage. Always self-effacing, always attempting to do what was right—that was his Fee.

And his mother’s rudeness went beyond all bounds.

He’d understood her reasons for putting on airs. He witnessed the petty slights his uncles and others like them had delivered to his mother over the years. And yet, she’d never learned the gift of grace. She was as bullish as his uncles and he’d spent a lifetime appeasing both parties—but not any longer.

Beware innocence
.

The Oracle’s words whispered in his head as his mother announced in ringing tones, “She is not good enough for you.”

“On the contrary, Mother, I pray I will be good enough for her.” He turned to Fiona. She was shaking. He could feel it in her hands but she still held her head high and didn’t disgrace herself by returning his mother’s comments in kind.

He spoke from his heart. “Your courage has won me, my lady. I am humbled by your sense of honor, your beauty, and your grace. I’d dare not offer anything to you less than my best. Fee, I’m not a perfect man. I’ve blundered and made a fool
of myself a thousand times. I’m also managing to make a ham-handed mess of this proposal. But I know one thing to be true, I
need
you in my life. I
want
you by my side. Please say you will be my duchess, and I’ll do all I can to be worthy of you.”

His throat had tightened as he spoke and there was a suspicious burning in his eyes.

Dead silence met his words. Fee had listened to him with somber eyes. She was so lovely, so precious to him, he didn’t know what he’d do if she refused him.

Nick wasn’t the only one anxious for her response. His mother radiated tension and everyone around the table seemed to have a stake in her answer. Even the children appeared involved.

Fee lowered her head as if unable to look at him. “I’m humbled by your offer, Your Grace—”

His heart fell. She was going to refuse him.

“—I could never find another man for whom I have so much affection and so much respect. Yes, I will marry you, Dominic Lynsted. I will be your wife.”

Nick wasn’t certain he’d heard correctly. “Did you say yes?”

“Of course she did,” his mother declared. “Who wouldn’t want to be a duchess?”

But Nick and Fee ignored her. Fee smiled at
him. “Yes, I said yes. Yes, yes,
yes.
” This last overrode his mother’s “no’s.”

Nick wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with all the happiness that now filled his soul. He’d never imagined such complete and utter joy existed. He didn’t deserve an angel like Fee, and now he would be her husband. He would be bound to her for all eternity.

His mother carried on like an angry hen at her end of the table but his blessed relatives gave out a cheer and drowned her out—until she threw her wine glass on the floor.

The room went silent. Nick braced himself for one of her tantrums. She usually wasn’t public with them…but he was never certain when her anger would spill over.

Addressing everyone at the table, his mother said, “Very well. I see how it is. You all side against me. Colonel Swanson warned me but I told him he was wrong.” Her nose was turning red, her eyes pinched into angry slits. “I should have listened to him. Come, Colonel, I am no longer hungry. As for the rest of you, I shall leave you all to your happiness.” She said this last word as if it were a disease. “I hope you roast in it.”

Turning on her heel, she left the dining room. Colonel Swanson quickly fell into step behind her.

Nick wondered if the colonel had ever witnessed
one of his mother’s tantrums. Or perhaps he didn’t care? A good number of men would put up with anything if they smelled money.

However, the second his mother was gone, glasses were raised and toasts made. It was as if she hadn’t even spoken, and Nick forced himself to relax.

There followed several suggestions concerning the wedding. It was decided unanimously that Nick and Fee should marry in three days’ time on Christmas Day, right here at Huntleigh.

Nick listened to Gillian, Aunt Agatha, and the other women start to make plans. He’d leave it all up to them. Whatever Fee wanted. For his part, he would send a man immediately to secure a special marriage license. This would allow him to marry without waiting several weeks for the posting of the banns.

Every time he looked at Fee, he couldn’t believe his good fortune. He held her hand, even through dinner, receiving teasing from all his cousins, but he couldn’t help himself. For the first time in his life, Nick was genuinely happy.

Later, after an overlong meal that left everyone sated with food and drink, Nick and Fee went out for fresh air and an afternoon ride. Tad accompanied them, diving in and out of the hedgerows, scaring up birds.

The grooms had all heard of the marriage proposal when his mother had ordered up her coach. They lined up to wish them well. Nick thanked them, and said he’d be sending down two kegs this Christmas along with the staff’s dinner to be certain everyone was extra merry in honor of the wedding.

Fee smiled but didn’t make a comment. In fact, she seemed a bit withdrawn.

He waited until they were away from the house to say, “You mustn’t let Mother’s nonsense bother you.”

She was silent a moment and then said carefully, “How could I not? I don’t wish to be the source of strain between you.”

He almost laughed at that thought. “You aren’t. There are many strains between my mother and myself.”

She lifted an eyebrow in doubt and he knew he had to explain. He let out his breath slowly before saying, “Mother is difficult. I don’t want to hide the fact from you, Fee. You know she was a former dancer and I know she was made to feel inferior for it. Of course, that should mean she would be more compassionate toward you. After all, you have the lineage to be a duchess. But that isn’t the sort of person she is. She’s wears the title like a sign around her neck. But she isn’t alone. There
are many of us like that. I take pride in being a duke, although I haven’t always been wise to my responsibilities.”

“I understand wanting to hold on to what is yours,” Fee had the good grace to admit.

“It’s a bit more than that,” Nick emphasized “She’s overly concerned about money. She always gambled but lately, she has been over the top in her losses. Several months ago, she attempted to arrange a marriage for me in return for a commission. Fortunately, I discovered her scheme and stopped it. I can’t decide if this Colonel Swanson is good for her or bad.”

“Is he greedy?”

“I hardly know him, but yes, he strikes me as the greedy type. But then so is Mother. Wouldn’t like attract like?” He shook his head in answer to his own question. “That was silly for me to say. Look at us. I’m a failure in so many ways and you are strong and resilient.”

“I don’t see you as a failure,” Fee said. “Nor do any of those people back at Huntleigh, including the servants. Nick, you aren’t perfect, but neither am I. What is important is that you always try to do what is best. I’ve never seen you do anything less than that.”

They rode over the wooden bridge leading to the
knoll. Nick listened to the horses’ steps before saying, “Remember the Oracle of Delphi’s curse?”

She discounted his concerns. “Do you mean the ‘beware innocence’ prediction? Nick, have you ever stopped to consider that such a warning is too open to be of value?”

But he refused to be mollified. “I did at one time. I ignored it completely until evidence proved to the contrary.”

Fee shook her head in disbelief. “You are not the first gambler to be superstitious. Any other would welcome such good fortune.”

“I haven’t considered it a blessing. It seems a man should be able to determine his own fate.”

She reined her horse to a stop. “Perhaps you are carrying this too far?”

“I wish I was. I was not joking when I said I’ve tested the Oracle in many different ways. I only win at cards. If I invest in a ship, buy shares in a company, or any number of other endeavors, I lose all I put into it.”

She cocked her head in doubt, looking so beautiful in the wintry afternoon light, and said in her practical Scottish manner, “Perhaps you are just not good at choosing your investments. Or have partners who aren’t wise.”

Fee made it sound so logical.

“What if I have to understand the curse in order to finally be free of it?”

“I don’t want you to tempt fate, my love,” she said, “but I also wouldn’t base my future on superstition. That would naïve.” She smiled, the expression brighter to his spirits than the sun, and changed the subject. “Race you to the top of the knoll.”

Before he could answer, she was off. He hesitated, praying she was right and no harm would come to her because of him.

Of course, she was right. He could spend a lifetime in worry and doubt, or seize this moment and the love she offered.

The Oracle could be damned.

Nick heeled the horse and went after her. He caught up with her and won their race. Her forfeit was a kiss…and then another one.

He marveled at how she could change his mood with her solid advice and clear thinking.

Evening came early this time of year and it was past dusk when they finished their ride. As they walked arm-in-arm up the path from the stables, Fee pulled up short. She looked up at the house.

“So, what happens now with your mother?” she
asked. “I dislike thinking of her alone in London.”

“She’ll pout for a while, spend money, and then be fine,” he said. “Let us not forget she has her friend Colonel Swanson to keep her company.” He turned her around to face him. “Fee, Mother may accept you or, and I abhor saying this, she may continue her tiff. She’s capable of it. Much will depend on Colonel Swanson.”

“Why is that?”

“She’s had few male friends over the years and she seems particularly attached to this one. Either way, I don’t care. Let her stew in her own vinegar until she comes to her senses. I will not have her show disrespect to my wife. I’ve taken very good care of her over the years, including changing my will to see to her beyond this life. Don’t search for logic in her behavior. Sometimes she doesn’t have any. I’m her son so I can say Daisy Lynsted is selfish. It’s as simple as that and I’m not being cruel. Occasionally she will show a maternal instinct but not often. And when she does, I’m usually suspicious.”

Of course Fee saw right through him. “I think there is a part of you that wants to please her.”

“I
can’t
please her. At best I placate her, but my patience is wearing thin. But if she wants me to choose between the two of you, I choose you. I’m
in love, Fee. And the wonder of it is, you love me in return.”

The family had always treated Fiona with kindness and respect, but this evening she had a sense of belonging she’d not felt anywhere else, including back in Scotland.

Aunt Agatha ordered her over to sit by her and listen to the children perform. Nick was on the far side of the room, enjoying himself with Gillian and one of their cousins, Carter Lowrie, son of the earl of Netherfeld, who had only arrived that afternoon. His parents would join them on the morrow. Carter had brought a friend with him, a Captain Jack Moffat who seemed to have his eye on Gillian.

That night, Nick walked Fiona to her room and left her there with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

For a second, Fiona was confused. “Your Grace,” she said. He turned to her, no more than six feet between them. “Is all good between us?”

He came back to her, his smile reassuring. “Shortly, you shall be my wife. I can wait, Fee. The anticipation will make it all the better.”

Fiona thanked him for his thoughtfulness with a searing kiss.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and slipped inside her room where she slept very well indeed, sur
rounded by the realization that this man cared for what she thought and what she felt more than his own needs.

The next day was an exciting one for the residents of Huntleigh. Snow lightly covered the ground. Nick, the other young men, and the children set off in search of their Yule log.

When they returned, the women were called upon to judge a sliding contest. A puddle had turned to ice on the front drive. The test was to see which team, the men or the children, could have the most “slides” before someone fell.

The children won.

A private messenger arrived just as the women were herding everyone back into the house with the promise of something warm to drink. Gillian had been clever enough to think of wassail and the servants had set it up along with bread, cheese, and meats for those who had enjoyed the snow.

Nick met the messenger instead of letting him hand the letter to a servant; however, he had a few words with the man.

Fiona wished she could hear what was being said between the two of them. Nor was she the only one curious. Once the messenger had left, Carter was the one who asked, “What is that?” He nodded to the letter.

“For Gillian,” Nick answered curtly. When he
went inside, he placed the letter on the hallway table.

Later, when Fiona was going upstairs to her room, she found Gillian in the hall reading the note. Her friend didn’t appear pleased.

“Is everything all right?” Fiona asked.

Gillian looked up with a start and then ripped the letter into fourths, which she tucked in her pocket. “Yes, it is fine. That was from my husband, Wright. He’s ordering me to return home. He sends the letter once a week and I ignore it. Where are you going?” she asked, changing the subject, and Fiona let her curiosity go. She liked Gillian too much to pry.