The Christmas Heiress Page 10

  "No. Miss Montgomery was in a panic when we all entered the dining room, thinking she had made a grave error in placing the cards, but mother quickly assured her it was not her fault. It was clear she knew exactly who was responsible."

  Edward felt a pang of guilt. He had not realized that Miss Montgomery might be held accountable. "You are certain there will be no repercussions toward Miss Montgomery?"

  Jonathan shook his head. "Mother knows she is very capable. And there were far too many changes in the entire seating arrangement for it to be a mistake or a case of carelessness."

  The door suddenly opened and Charlotte Aldridge entered. She wore a crimson morning gown trimmed with lace flounces on the skirt. Her hair was swept up on top of her head, with a single wavy lock spilling down her left shoulder. She looked perfectly delectable.

  For a split second Edward thought her expression brightened when she saw him, but he was not certain.

  "Am I interrupting?" she asked with a questioning smile.

  "Not at all," Jonathan quickly answered. He got to his feet. "Stay and keep Edward company. I need to confer with the stable master to ensure that all the horses will be ready for our afternoon ride."

  Despite his proximity to the fireplace, a chill spread over Edward's body. But there was no gracious way to stop his brother from leaving.

  "Is there something specific you needed, Miss Aldridge?" he asked, disliking how ungracious and pompous he sounded.

  She apparently decided not to respond to his lessthan-friendly greeting, but instead stated the purpose of her interruption.

  "We are putting the finishing touches on the gift baskets for your tenants and the countess would like to include a personal gift for the children of each family. I was hoping you might assist me in the selection of the present for Martin Ross, who has just turned fourteen."

  "I know the Ross family," Edward replied. "They have farmed our land for generations."

  "It seems that young Martin has a scholarly bent and the countess thought a book would make a fine gift. She instructed me to pick one from the library, but I am having difficulty making a choice." Miss Aldridge frowned in concentration. "Something on mathematics, science or history would certainly be appropriate, but rather dull, I think. My tastes run toward poetry, which he might enjoy, but I am uncertain. What would you suggest?"

  "It seems as though my mother is overgenerous this season with not only my money, but my possessions," he said, not bothering to keep the rising annoyance from his voice.

  Miss Aldridge's nostrils flared slightly and her mouth tightened. "Until that ridiculous tax on paper is repealed, books will remain scarce and expensive, a luxury afforded only by the upper class. A book would be a treasured gift to a young man with a scholarly bent whose family has never owned one," she said pointedly.

  Good lord, she was right. Edward made a disgusted sound, ashamed at how small-minded he was acting. A book would be a special Christmas memory for the Ross lad.

  He turned away and walked to the inlaid bookshelf beside the window. "Actually there are several volumes in here that might do," he offered, his fingers running carefully over the leather-bound spines. "Ivanhoe is a wonderful tale that will spark any boy's imagination. It was one of my favorites when I was younger."

  "It is an excellent book, but I suspect he might have already read it. Any other ideas?"

  "How about a biography?" Edward held up two substantial volumes. `Julius Caesar or Alexander the Great?"

  Miss Aldridge lifted her right hand to her face and tapped her index finger pensively on her chin as she carefully considered his suggestions. "Alexander," she decided. "He was one of the world's greatest generals, becoming King of the Macedonians at the age of twenty and then conquering the Persian Empire."

  "The perfect choice," Edward agreed with a quick smile. He crossed over to his desk and rummaged through the satchel of papers he had brought from London, pulling out a slim leather volume. "And to balance out the lessons, a bit of fun."

  "A Christmas Carol! What an inspired idea." She took the book and leafed through it. I do not think anything captures the true spirit of the holiday better than this story. But this is your personal copy. Are you sure you wish to part with it?"

  "I can always get another." Hoping to make amends for his earlier rudeness, Edward indicated the chair that Jonathan had vacated and invited Miss Aldridge to sit. Surprisingly, she did so, perching herself graceful on the edge of the chair, the books held firmly in her lap.

  "Would you care for coffee? Or tea? I can ring for Harris."

  "Refreshments are unnecessary, my lord, but I would enjoy a brief respite. It gets rather chaotic with so many helpers all offering differing opinions on the best way to get things done."

  "I can imagine," he muttered.

  "No, you really cannot. This is something that must be experienced to be completely understood."

  "Or believed?"

  Miss Aldridge's mouth twitched. "Pray, do not let me keep you from your work, my lord." She nodded toward the papers strewn across the desk.

  Not wanting to lie outright, Edward chose his words carefully. "'Tis nothing of great importance. I was merely reviewing some papers I was unable to read before I left London. Social items mainly."

  Her finely arched eyebrows lifted. "They look much more like business reports, with lots of columns and numbers."

  He glanced nervously toward his desk, where the papers were openly displayed. "Ahh, yes, it appears as though my secretary included a financial accounting summary of some of the investments he wants me to review."

  "They look very detailed for a summary," she commented.

  He turned and stared at her in surprise. "Do you have any familiarity with these types of documents?"

  "I am learning." She pursed her lips in a determined line. "I am Grandfather's heir, and while I shall always rely upon the advice of others when making any sort of financial decision, I also believe it is very necessary for me to have at least a basic understanding of finances and investments. How else can I properly manage my estate and its holdings?"

  "That is a most intriguing concept, teaching a woman the business skills that many men of our class so often lack."

  "Do you disapprove?" She caught his gaze and there was a look of challenge in her eyes as if she dared him to say it.

  "Apparently, it would be unwise if I did."

  "Precisely." She choked back a laugh. "We are sent to school, but once there, women are taught to be ladies, to have perfect posture and to glide gracefully whenever we move. I was a bit of a rebel and took the initiative to read what was inside those books that were perched so precariously upon my head."

  He grinned. He liked knowing she had a backbone when it came to things she thought were important. "I realize I am at great risk of igniting your ire, yet I am compelled to say that your posture is excellent, Miss Aldridge."

  She accepted the compliment with a serene nod of her head. "I learned the feminine arts first, my lord, but wisely decided as I grew older that I needed to know more in life than how to look fetching."

  "You appear to be succeeding in both areas."

  Though said in a flirting manner, the compliment was sincerely given. Edward wondered again why she was still single, why no man had the brains, or courage, to take her as his wife.

  "I have recently begun to acquire a rudimentary knowledge of business and finances, but there is still so much for me to learn." She took a slow breath. "Perhaps some time you can share some of your own knowledge. I would be most grateful."

  "Me?"

  "Oh, come now, my lord. There is no need to be modest." She leaned forward. "I know your secret."

  The comment hung in the air. Edward wondered if he could simply ignore it, but though he tried, he could not stifle his curiosity. "What secret, Miss Aldridge?"

  "Your mother tries to pretend that you occasionally dabble in investments, presumably for fun, and those of us who care about her indulge this whim
." She shrugged in an offhanded manner. "But anyone with half a brain knows you run an impressive business empire, with an unprecedented amount of success."

  He was too shocked by her frank speech to deny it. "It does not offend you?"

  She burst out laughing. "Offend me? Because you have purpose and direction in your life, because you are successful? Quite the contrary. I find it admirable. And fascinating."

  "You are very much in the minority," he said.

  "Perhaps," she agreed. "I do share your view on the dismal lack of wit among the ton, yet you must allow that not all members of the aristocracy display the intelligence of a turnip. There are many of us who can actually engage in sensible conversation for more than five minutes."

  "A rare breed," he said with a slight smile.

  She sat back in her seat and considered him for a moment. "You, my lord, are a snob," she pronounced.

  Edward's expression lightened. "That, I fear, is my true secret, Miss Aldridge." She was probably right. He had dismissed so many individuals of his class, both male and female, as witless, without giving them the opportunity to prove otherwise.

  There were men of intelligence within the aristocracy, men who devoted their lives to politics and public services, men who managed large estates and properties with success. Yet sadly they were in the minority.

  "Tell me about your work." She must have sensed his hesitation, for she added, "I'm sure a lot of what you must do is tedious and mundane, but surely there is some excitement, some element of risk that makes it a daring venture."

  A flippant retort sprang to his lips, but she was so openly sincere he could not make light of her earnest inquiry. Besides, he reasoned, she would be bored to tears within a few minutes, searching for a polite excuse to leave.

  So he told her of his first success, the restoration of a run-down cotton mill, how he had naively paid too much for the business, yet by promising the workers a higher wage had managed to turn a profit in less than a year. He spoke of the exotic goods his many ships imported-teas grown in the Far East, silks from China, muslins from India and the many spices from the Spice Islands.

  He spoke of the different factories he owned and his concern that the conditions were safe so his workers would remain healthy and produce quality goods at a productive rate. He mentioned his most recent interest in the growing rail lines and his acquisition of a steel mill and a locomotive factory.

  She listened intently to all of it, asking pertinent, intelligent questions. It was the first time Edward had ever discussed his empire in its entirety with anyone and it felt good to relate his successes and comment upon his failures.

  The clock chimed the hour, startling them both. Miss Aldridge glanced up, her eyes widening. "Gracious, is that the time? I really must go."

  Clutching the two books he had given her tightly to her chest, she curtsied, then turned toward the door. Edward hurried forward so he could hold it open.

  She gave him a dazzling smile of thanks as she passed through the doorway. He responded with one of his own.

  "I look forward to seeing you later this afternoon," he said, startled to realize how much he meant it.

  He had no business showing any sort of interest in Charlotte Aldridge. Given their past, given his re cently broken engagement, given all the unsettling emotions that were stirring inside him since his return to the manor.

  He should have stayed in London. He should have braved the gossips, ignored the pitying whispers and devoted himself to work.

  The earl was very aware that many an intelligent, steadfast man was brought to foolishness at the hands of an outspoken, spirited woman like Miss Aldridge. But most dangerous of all was knowing that the prospect did not distress Edward, but rather enlivened and excited him.

  CHAPTER 8

  Jonathan was feeling weary as he stepped into the outer courtyard at the back of the mansion. The intense animosity between his brother and mother was a physically and emotionally draining situation, especially since he was caught in the middle, trying to act as the peacemaker between two warring parties who were each determined to emerge the victor.

  Though he would never admit it to Edward, more than once he had questioned his advice and insistence that his brother return home. Their mother was being far more obstinate than he expected, and Edward's cooperation had been less than complete. The pair had managed to be polite to each other in front of other people, but Jonathan honestly wondered how long that would last.

  The only thing he did feel confident about was knowing that it was going to be a very unusual Christmas this year.

  A gust of wind blew open his unbuttoned coat and Jonathan shivered. The day was bright and sunny, but cold. The air held the distinct smell of approaching snow. Jonathan hoped it would arrive in time for Christmas.

  He blew into his fists and rubbed his hands together, wishing he had thought to wear his gloves. He had not realized he would need them for the short walk to the stables.

  After ascertaining with the stable master that all was in proper order for the afternoon's riding ex- pedition,Jonathan took the shorter route around the side of the stables on his way back to the manor. As he turned the corner, the flash of a blue cloak caught his attention. It was Miss Montgomery, walking with strident purpose through the terraced garden toward the back veranda.

  He was just about to call out a greeting when she lifted her head. Their eyes met. She stopped dead in her tracks and stared at him for a long moment. Jonathan smiled broadly with delight, but Miss Montgomery stared in astonishment.

  Clearly, he was the last person she expected to see. She lowered her head hastily and moved even faster, choosing a path that would deliberately take her away from him.

  His heart plummeted. "Miss Montgomery, wait!"

  At his command she halted, her shoulders stiff with tension. "Is there something you needed?"

  "I just wanted to say hello."

  Jonathan advanced on her. Trapped, she gazed around nervously almost as though she were considering the odds of him being able to catch her if she ran. Puzzled by this unusual reaction, Jonathan quickened his stride.

  "Good morning, sir." She fell into a full curtsey when he reached her side. The gesture embarrassed him, though she clearly made the point that she viewed herself as a subservient, inferior person.

  "There's no need for all of that," he chided gently, helping her to rise.

  Jonathan liked Miss Montgomery. Very much. She was beautiful, with dark fluttering lashes and a wise smile, but it was not her looks that wholly captivated him. She had a quiet intelligence that soothed him, a gentle manner that charmed him, a musically pitched voice that made him want to listen to her speak all day long. She was the type of woman that men dreamed about, the type of woman one could cherish and love and hold forever in their heart.

  He reached down and lifted her hand, then held it between his own. Like him, she wore no gloves. Her skin felt cold, but soon it grew warm. She tried to pull away, but he held on tightly, refusing to let go.

  "You should not hold my hand," she said softly.

  "Why not? I find I like it very much."

  "As do I, which makes it most dangerous."

  "Ah, Evelyn."

  "You make me feel special, sir, as if someone cares about me. Which is a very foolish notion indeed."

  Finally, she glanced up at him, peeking out from under the rim of her bonnet. Her lush, red lips were slightly parted, moist and mere inches away. The temptation to close the gap between them and press his lips to hers was unbearable. Jonathan tried to pull himself away from his unruly hunger, but the power of his craving was far too potent.

  "Forgive my boldness," he whispered as he moved his hand to cup her chin, tilting her face upward.

  He kissed her full on the mouth. Her lips were warm, her breath sweet and she tasted like heaven. His tongue played along the line of her lips, back and forth, back and forth and then slipped inside.

  He heard her breath catch, felt his
own heart pounding in his ears. He tasted her lips over and over until finally he knew he had to stop or else he would disgrace himself.

  Their lips separated and he kissed her eyes and nose and cheeks. He moved to her ear and whispered his long-held secret, "I have wanted to do that since the first moment I met you."

  Jonathan waited for her maidenly outrage, bracing himself for the possibility of a slap across the face, yet regretted nothing. The kisses they had just shared were worth risking her anger and condemnation.

  But to his surprise, she lifted her hand and traced the tip of her finger across her slightly swollen lips. "Two years is a long time to wait for a kiss. I hope you found it as magical as I did."

  Jonathan laughed aloud, giving in to an irresistible urge to hug her. She screeched in shock at his sudden move, but allowed it. He then took her hand with a casual intimacy that felt totally natural and began walking away from the manor.

  "Why did you try to avoid me?" he asked, still hurt by the gesture.

  She blushed prettily. "We have never been alone with each other and I thought it prudent that our interaction remain within the strict bounds of propriety."

  "That sounds rather dull," he replied. He lifted a finger and traced the line of her cheek.

  Agitated, she stepped back, out of his reach. "My circumstances have forced me to be a practical woman. If we are caught, I could lose my position, be dismissed without so much as a letter of reference."

  "I would never allow that to happen."

  A rueful smile touched her lips. "I know you would try to prevent it and perhaps you would succeed, but I would still find myself in dire circumstances."

  "Even if you were able to stay here?"

  "Especially if I stayed here."

  Perplexed, Jonathan searched her lovely face, trying to understand what she was so reluctant to say aloud. Gradually, a silence developed; it was the most emotionally charged he had ever endured. Though he had more than his share of experience with the opposite sex, he was not so much of a fool as to believe he could ever fully understand what was going on in a woman's mind without asking her directly.