His Christmas Angel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 8) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Clarence Deville sat studying the four kings with his mates, Felix ‘Tiny’ Grey, Baron Spaulding, Gilbert ‘Lucky’ Jones, Baron Prescott, and his friend from his Eton days, Cassius Fane, 4
th
Earl of Chorley. Back when they had all been together at Eton, he, Cyril and Cassius had been known as the three C’s.

Tiny and Lucky had come to town to stay with him at the townhouse that he had just purchased and called, Evesham House. They had recently all come into a good deal of money, courtesy of a financial venture they had taken part in with Mr. Edward Lovett.

By doing so, Clarence was now completely independent. He hadn’t exactly been poorly off before what with the money he gained from his Estate in Gloucestershire, Evesham Hall, which went along with his courtesy title of Earl of Evesham, but now…now, he had enough money to live more than comfortably in London, in a residence of his own making. Come to think of it, he had enough money to do whatever the hell he bloody wanted. He was set for life. He felt as if he was rich as Croesus.

As families in the ton went, the Devilles were quite well off, but there had never been a townhouse for the heir apparent in London before, but not anymore, now Clarence could stay in London without having to be under his parent’s roof. Not that he minded being under their roof at Deville House, but the freedom of having his own residence was rather exciting—and empowering. He was a boy no more. Now, he could be considered his own man.

Tiny and Lucky had exposed him to a scandalous and rather decadent part of the life in London that he hadn’t known existed before. His father had attempted to start his education on how to pleasure a woman once he had turned eighteen, by taking him to a few women who made their living by selling their bodies, and Tiny and Lucky had furthered it by taking him to some of the establishments on King’s Street.

Those dens of iniquity had opened his eyes to the ways of the world, and though he had enjoyed himself immensely, all of the women offered to him there, paled in comparison to the woman he wanted.

Tiny, Lucky and maybe even Cassius, probably believed him to be a killjoy, but his heart didn’t hanker after the Birds of Paradise, he could find at the brothels. His heart desired only one beautiful woman, and she spurned his advances at every opportunity. Most would have given up, and moved onto to another woman who would give them the attention they sought—but not, Clarence. No, he would persevere until he had what he wanted.

“What do you think, Tiny? Should we go and have another night on the Town?” Lucky asked, as they drank their whisky, and Tiny smoked his pipe, and Clarence and Cassius continued to peruse their cards. Cass was looking at his cards so intently, Clarence wagered he was trying to make them magically turn into a better hand.

Clarence couldn’t say that he was particularly fond of the scent of pipe tobacco, and only allowed it in his house because they were sitting alone, with no ladies present. That and the fact that he wasn’t altogether certain that Tiny would put aside his pipe, if Clarence asked him to, and he was loathed to put it to the test.

“I reckon we could,” Tiny mused, between puffs, “or we could sit at home, and have a quiet night with Clarence, and Lord Chorley, should he decide to stay—and continue our friendly games.” He smiled broadly, holding the pipe away from his mouth. At his remark, Lucky and Cassius both chuckled. “I think I can hear a certain lady calling me name. She never calls me Tiny when we are in the…now what did Freddie’s father call it once?”

“Boudoir. He said it was a ladies evening receiving room…” Clarence said.

“Well, whatever it is, I am well received in it,” Tiny joked.

Clarence laughed, and Cassius smiled. His mates were trying desperately to keep his spirits up, and though they were succeeding to a certain extent, he still felt rather low. 

“Maybe I will go with you two, and if Cassius wants to, he can tag along too. Cyril will be home for Christmas shortly, and then, we can really start to have a bit of a jolly.”

Cassius sighed. “I don’t have anything else to do. If I go home, Mama will continue to hound me about courting Lady Dorothy, and I don’t want to. I can’t abide the girl. She is dreadful. Her voice…oh, how it sets my teeth on edge, it so high pitched,” he shuddered, and took a swig of his drink.

“She is a lot like Lady Doris,” Clarence said, curling his lip. “Stay far away from her, if you can help it, Cass. Let some other poor bugger marry her. As a wife, she would be a load of mischief that wouldn’t be any fun at all.”

“Don’t take a wife, mate. It’s a trap,” Tiny said.

Cass laughed. “Alas, I have to marry and procure an heir. Mama shan’t rest until I do my duty and produce some progeny. I just wish we didn’t have to leave Town for Christmas. Our country Estate is a little too close to Lady Dorothy’s father’s country escape. Clarence, are you retiring to the Country for Christmas or will you and your family remain here in Town?” Lucky asked.

“I don’t know. Pop hasn’t said. Last Christmas we all spent it at Kenilworth Park, and that was jolly good fun. This Christmas, I am not entirely certain what plans shall be made. I think we will probably go to Kenilworth again, as the twins are hard to move about, and little Harry is a good traveler. I am more interested in knowing where Felix and Gil are going to sped Christmastide.”

“He is eager to be rid of us, Tiny,” Lucky joked.

“No…no, that isn’t it,” Clarence rushed out. “I like having the two of you about, I was just wondering…you two could come with us to Kenilworth…”

“Freddie, Micah and Lewis want us to come and see them in Wiltshire. And a Christmas in Wiltshire does sound appealing—it’s bound to be jolly good fun. I haven’t bought any houses yet because I bloody well don’t know where to settle,” Lucky sighed heavily. “It is all rather confusing for a simple bloke like me. Having the options we have now—the money—I never thought I would be able to afford a palatial home in the Country. It is still rather unbelievable.”

Tiny nodded his head in agreement. “Our friends are all over the place, now…well, most of our mates are still in Wiltshire, I grant you, but we still miss you and the Colonel, Clarence. We have mended Lucky’s broken heart pretty well, but yours is a real challenge, Clarence, mate. I don’t think you’re ever going to get over Lady Ann.”

“I don’t want to get over her,” he said, sighing. “That is the problem—you see, I can’t get over her. You fancied Miss Ruby Massey, Lucky, but you didn’t feel about her, the way I feel about Lady Ann. If you did…no amount of whoring could mend your broken heart.”

“I will give you that one. Miss Massey was a pretty little thing, and I got above myself thinking she could give me the time of day. I thought…I thought that maybe since I had become a baron, people would forget where I came from—but they won’t ever forget the circumstances of my birth. I am not part of this glittering world of the Beau Monde,” Lucky said, gesturing to the finery that surrounded him, “And no amount of pretending or attempting to mimic your accent, Clarence, will make it so. So I think I should just stop trying.”

“I think you are doing a bloody good job of it, Gil. You have started to sound eerily like me. Mama commented on it just the other day. She said, that if she didn’t know better, you could pass as another brother to me and Cyril.”

“I couldn’t,” Tiny said, with his familiar broad grin. “I am too much of a bastard—oh, wait, I do beg your pardon—I am an arsehole, and rather proud of it.”

They all chuckled.

“Lord Prescott, you could always pursue Lady Dorothy Bouverie, she is on the hunt for a lord with money, and you certainly pass muster,” Cass suggested.

“I think I shall allow that little lady to set her sights on another lucky lord, sir,” Lucky said. “She…she doesn’t interest me, and her father looks like God’s revenge against murder whenever he stares at me. No…I rather think that would be like going rabbit hunting with a dead ferret. Now, maybe Clarence could pursue her, and make a certain little maiden jealous.”

Clarence was about to respond, when his butler came rushing into the room. He looked quite flustered, and he was always such a composed and stoic fellow. His face was red, and his eyes were wide, all in all, he seemed quite out of sorts, and it alarmed him to see him in such a state.

“My lord, we have a guest, and she wants to see you alone. The lady is quite distressed. I am worried she might faint.”

“The lady?” Clarence said, standing up. Lucky, Tiny and Cassius had also jumped to their feet.

“Lady Ann Hardwicke. I showed her to the Library, and there she waits.”

The Library. Ann was in the Library. His Ann.

Clarence’s mind whirled at a breakneck pace. Feeling a little weak in the knees, he quickly sat back down, he felt drained.

“I think he’s going to be sick,” Lucky mused.

“Fetch a bucket,” Tiny quipped. “Buck up, mate,” Tiny said, worry creasing his brow. “She is a lady, how scary can she be?”

“You would be surprised,” Cass snorted. “Some ladies have me shaking in my boots.”

Clarence let out a shuddering laugh. “Tiny, you have met Lady Ann, she isn’t scary at all.”

“And yet, she intimidates you,” Tiny pointed out.

“Only because I am going to stumble over my tongue in my dealings with her.”

“You won’t. Stay confident. You are not a callow youth anymore, Clarence. You are a man. A man that can take on the world. And the part of the world that she lives in, is also your world. You are not like Lucky and I…you’re not attempting to fit into a world that you weren’t born into, because you no longer fit into the world you come from. So, get yourself up, and take your arse down to the Library, and meet the woman of your dreams face to face. Act like a lord, and all that tosh.”

Clarence stood back up, and pulled his waistcoat down, suddenly feeling full of purpose, as if he could take on the world. Nodding at Lucky and Tiny, he walked out of the room toward the Library. He didn’t know how he would handle seeing Ann. They hadn’t seen much of each other since they had both returned to London from the Country. He hadn’t seen her at any social events for the past fortnight, and it worried him dreadfully.

A footman opened the Library door for Clarence, and he took a moment to gaze at her without her knowledge.

She looked so fragile. So vulnerable. He wished her could take her into his arms, and kiss all of her worries away.

Her strawberry blond hair commanded his gaze, just as it always did. Ringlets framed her face, and one kept falling down right in the middle of her forehead, and he watched her blow it out of her face, the huffing noise when she blew it out of her face was really quite endearing. How he would love to see it flowing down around her shoulders, loosed from the pins that held it in an upswept hairdo. It struck him odd that she wasn’t wearing a hat or gloves, and it still looked as if she wore her morning dress. Quite odd, indeed. Ann was usually such a stickler for the rules. She was the epitome of propriety. To think she had come calling on him without wearing a hat or a bonnet, or gloves for that matter.

Something was off. Something wasn’t right. He took a tentative step into the room, and she must have heard him, because she turned to settle her perceptive brown eyes on him.

As he drew closer, he realized with a sinking heart that she had been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she held a handkerchief clasped tightly in her hands. Her eyes were filled with grief. Her hair wasn’t as tidy as it should it have been. All in all, she looked an absolute wreck, and yet, to him, she was still beautiful. She would never fail to take his breath away with her loveliness.

He wanted to hold her and give her comfort. Instead, he settled on a chair opposite to the sofa that she sat on, and quite uncomfortably crossed his legs. He had to maintain his composure.

“Good afternoon, Ann,” he said, attempting to keep emotion out of his voice. Afternoon? It was nearly evening, and not at all a proper time for her to be calling on him. “To what do I owe this honour of this visit?”

“I…I had to see you, Clarence,” she said, her voice filled with the emotion he was trying so hard to contain. “I had nowhere else to turn. You are…you are the only man that can save me.” She was quite breathless. It told him that she was trying her best to force the words out of her mouth without losing her composure. His heart went out to her.

Save her? Save her from what?

He uncrossed his legs, and sat forward, using all of his willpower to keep from moving to set next to her.

“Whatever is the matter, Ann? You look quite upset.” He might as well not bandy about the bush, and see exactly what had put her into such a desperate mood.

“He is going to sell me off, Clarence,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and suddenly avoiding his gaze.

Indignation welled within him. Sell her off? Over his dead body.

“Who…who is going to sell you off?” he demanded angrily. He had a wager it was her father. The man was a bad egg, if ever there was one. He gambled far too much. He had heard the man had lost thousands of pounds recently in one of the more undesirable gaming hells.

“My father…he has…he has made some terrible choices, Clarence, and now I shall have to pay the piper.”

“Rubbish,” he said. “That is utter rot. You shall do no such thing. Now, dry your tears, and tell me everything, Ann.” How could he remain so calm? He felt anything but, on the inside. Somehow, he sensed that she needed him to be strong. She needed him to be her rock.