The Christmas Heiress Page 9

  His expression turned to granite. "It was all very muddled and highly emotional that year and yet there is a part of me that feels I owe you an apology, Miss Aldridge." --- - - - - - -- - - - -- - -

  She gazed at him quizzically, her head slightly to one side, and fervently wished that she had not drunk so much wine. Surely she had misheard him. Or was it truly possible that the earl had said he owed her an apology?

  For months after the incident she had dreamed of this moment, for years she had longed to have him acknowledge his behavior. Of course, in her imaginings he was on bent knee, fairly begging for her forgiveness and asking for a chance to make amends.

  "For what do you apologize, my lord?"

  The earl leaned a little closer to her. "Kissing you in the woods. It was far more than a chaste peck beneath the mistletoe and I fear it was presumptuous and ungallant of me."

  Was it truly that simple? The passage of time had helped her forget. Could her remaining pride and pain be soothed by the sincerity of an apology, the acknowledgement that he had been wrong?

  "Your guilty conscience marks you as a man of honor, and your offer of an apology shows you are a gentleman, even though it is six years late in coming." Charlotte took a deep breath. Here at long last was her opportunity to retaliate for all the tears she had shed, all the doubt she had carried about her own worth, all the pain she had felt at being rejected.

  "But the truth is that your guilt is unnecessary, my lord." Once the words had been spoken, Charlotte felt her body relax. That was the truth. And she could finally see it clearly, could finally acknowledge it.

  She shared in the responsibility for what had happened, even though for years she had conveniently blamed it all on the earl. "I kissed you willingly. It was an experience I very much wanted to have and decided to take when the opportunity presented itself."

  The earl bowed his head. "You might have been willing, curious even, but that does not excuse my behavior. You were innocent, inexperienced. I should have known better. I did know better and I did not control myself. It was most unfair to you."

  "Life is not fair, my lord," she said in a steady, firm voice. "Yet who ever said it was supposed to be?"

  CHAPTER 7

  Edward took a sip of wine and stared at Miss Aldridge over the rim of his crystal glass. She was speaking to Lord Bradford, the gentleman seated on her right, regaling him with a humorous story about her favorite dog. The older gentleman was laughing and shaking his head, clearly encouraging her to tell him more.

  Who was this woman? When he had first seen her standing on the front steps of the manor earlier in the day, he thought he had been hallucinating. Charlotte Aldridge was the last person he expected, or wanted, to see. Coming home to Farmington Manor was difficult enough without having to face another one of his mistakes.

  "Would you care for more trout, my lord?"

  Edward nodded at the footman, then forked up a portion of the delicate fish, barely tasting it. He continued to study Miss Aldridge intently. There was something infectious about her smile. Seeing it made his own face soften in response.

  Had he misjudged her? He had placed her next to him at dinner as a form of penance. He had wronged her six years ago, had taken advantage of her youth and vulnerability and had never acknowledged his responsibility in the matter.

  He had pushed her, and that fateful holiday season, to the back of his mind, yet he admitted now that she was someone he had never truly forgotten. It was unfortunate that she was so closely intertwined with the schism between himself and his parents, but he knew if it had not been Charlotte they so forcefully proposed he marry, it would have been some other female that he would have rejected on principle alone.

  Edward remembered her as a spoiled young miss, full of mischief and daring. She was different now, far more beautiful, still sharp and witty, but not nearly as obvious and demanding.

  It had taken courage for her to acknowledge his apology and accept a share of the responsibility for their afternoon's indiscretion all those many years ago. Courage, honesty and maturity. Excellent qualities for a wife.

  My God, had he just lumped Charlotte Aldridge and matrimony together in his mind? Edward shook his head and stared at the ruby liquid in his goblet, as if that were the cause of these outlandish thoughts.

  He took another bite of food, but his gaze refused to remain on his dish. Instead it was pulled toward Charlotte's womanly figure, noting the elegance of her gown, the sparkle of her jewels, the creamy slope of her shoulder. She had the most irresistible touchable skin he had ever seen. He wondered why she had never married. With her looks, breeding and wealth, he knew she must have had many offers.

  "You are looking far too serious and concerned, my lord. Pray, do not tell me you have you swallowed a fish bone?"

  Bemused, he replied, "If I had, I would be coughing and choking and making a total spectacle of myself."

  "Hmm, as I remember, that would be out of character. 'Tis Jonathan who usually draws, encourages and then revels in the spotlight."

  "Yes, my brother does have that talent."

  They both gazed simultaneously toward the other end of the table where Jonathan was seated. Those beside him, as well as those several chairs away, were all paying rapt attention to his every word.

  "He is something of a devil," Charlotte said in an affectionate tone. "If I shut my eyes, I can easily imagine him with a tail and pitchfork."

  Edward leaned close, settling a hand on the back of her chair. He realized that he was flirting with her, but he could not seem to help it. "If Jonathan is a devil, then what am l?"

  "A dragon," she responded without hesitation, tilting her head as she stared at him. "A tall, brooding, smoldering-eyed dragon, with an excellent Bond Street tailor."

  "Do I breathe fire?"

  "Absolutely." A teasing smile curved her lips and her eyes sparkled in the glow of the candlelight. "Why, the mere touch of your breath makes one's skin tingle as the warmth moves over the surface."

  Edward worked to keep his breath steady as his pulse started racing. "And do you play with fire, Miss Aldridge?"

  "Whenever I can, my lord."

  A sense of challenge rippled between them. Their eyes met and suddenly it was difficult for Edward to remember that they were not alone.

  "I should not have encouraged you," he said, charmed by the flirtatious glance she sent his way. "'Tis dangerous, considering what I know."

  "About me?"

  She was a distraction that he did not need at the moment, a distraction with the power to complicate his life, yet Edward could not seem to keep quiet. "It is my firm belief that you have the potential to become a wicked woman."

  Her eyebrow arched delicately, raising a corner of her mouth. "Do you really think so? A wicked woman? How perfectly wonderful!"

  Charlotte sounded so satisfied with herself that Edward could not hold back his laughter. "You are supposed to be appalled by my suggestion," he said with an easy grin. "Have I been so long without the company of aristocratic young ladies that I no longer remember what is correct and proper?"

  "Flirting at the dinner table is always proper, my lord." She lifted her fork to her mouth and took a delicate bite of roasted, stuffed pheasant. "It stimulates the appetite."

  Edward groaned faintly. "Oh, it stimulates far more than that, Miss Aldridge."

  Her eyes widened, then she swallowed, her throat going taut. "Now who is being wicked? A lesser woman might make a scene over that veiled yet improper statement, but fortunately for you I have never been enslaved by the dictates of convention," she stated, clicking her tongue in a most provocative manner.

  "And yet you remain within the bosom of society," he said. "Most impressive."

  Charlotte shrugged. "Having wealth and a solid aristocratic heritage is key to my survival. They may not like or approve of my attitudes and actions, but it is difficult for them to openly snub the greatniece of a duke."

  Mischief glimmered in her lovely gre
en eyes. "Grimly enduring all those endless lectures from my older, more experienced peers often helps mitigate the damage," she continued. "Yet I have learned that the best way to navigate the waters of society is to possess a hearty sense of humor, a heightened sense of the ridiculous and above all, not take myself or others too seriously."

  The glint of humor in her eyes caused him to widen his grin. "You are a marvel, my dear," he said, laying a hand over the one she had set on the table.

  She allowed it for a long moment, then he felt her fingers wiggling beneath his palm. Edward reluctantly removed his hand and Charlotte immediately put hers in her lap. Her cheeks were flushed, her green eyes sparkling, but she kept her composure and launched into a spirited conversation with Lord Bradford.

  Edward hid a frown, though he was in truth glad for the momentary respite. Touching her hand had stirred up a few sensations he had not felt toward a woman in a very long time. Primal, sensual urges that sent a fire through his veins.

  It was so unexpected. He fervently hoped he had been able to hide the fascination he felt from his expression, had somehow concealed the desire that was trying to take control of his body and his common sense.

  Fortunately, before he could make an utter fool of himself, his mother grandly rose to her feet, signaling that it was time for the ladies to withdraw and leave the gentlemen to their port. Edward, and the rest of the gentlemen, stood as the ladies de parted. Still pensive, he sat down, lit a cigar and wondered how long it would be until they could rejoin the women.

  Without so much as a glance back in the earl's direction, Charlotte followed the rest of the women out of the dining room, every nerve in her body tingling.

  What had come over her? She had flirted outrageously with him during dinner, but even more distressing, she had enjoyed it immensely! When she had entered the drawing room this evening she had promised herself she would feel nothing toward him-not bitterness or anger or regret.

  To that end she had succeeded, but amazingly, the emotions she had experienced were almost worse. Butterflies of anticipation, an odd surge of joy at his marked attention toward her, the warm touch of his strong hand making goose bumps rise on her arms. And when he stared at her, she found herself lost in the deep sensuality of his amber-gold eyes and the playful allure of his smile.

  This was not supposed to be happening! Charlotte took a deep breath, startled at the turmoil of her own feelings. It was all so confusing, but she continued to smile, walking blindly through the room until she almost ran into a young woman. Thankfully, it was Lady Haddon, the former Miss Miranda Chambers.

  "Charlotte, how lovely to see you," Lady Haddon said jovially. "We were late coming down for dinner and missed the gathering in the drawing room."

  "Miranda, you look wonderful," Charlotte replied truthfully. "The countess mentioned that you and Lord Haddon were planning to come this year."

  "I adore the holidays at Farmington Manor," Miranda said. "And this year we have even more to celebrate with the birth of our second child. A boy!"

  "Aren't you a clever girl?" Charlotte laughed softly. "Lord Haddon must be over the moon."

  Miranda lowered her chin as a faint blush crept into her cheeks. "Charles is rather pleased about having an heir after only four years of marriage. Though he swore to me he would be happy no matter what the infant's sex as long as it was hale and hearty."

  Charlotte nodded her head. Though not a view often shared by most of his peers, it sounded exactly like something Lord Haddon would say. He truly was a kind and decent sort. "I assume you brought the children along?"

  We would not dream of having Christmas without 'Wethem," Miranda insisted. "The doctor assured me that young Robert is a fine healthy babe, more than capable of making the journey. We brought along his nurse, of course, and a nursemaid for our older daughter, Julia. The countess has a beautiful nursery set up for the children, so they are quite comfortable and not underfoot."

  "I look forward to meeting them."

  Miranda smiled brightly. "I know you are just being polite, but I give you fair warning, I intend to hold you to that request."

  They chatted amicably for a few minutes longer and then Miranda left to speak with another group of ladies on the other side of the drawing room. Charlotte gazed pensively at her retreating back.

  Marriage and motherhood certainly agreed with Miranda, transforming her from a pale, plain-faced young lady into a handsome woman, with shapely curves, a soft mouth and lovely blond curls. Hearing her speak so loving of her two little ones set Charlotte's thoughts spinning. She had never thought overlong about having children and was surprised at the complicated mix of emotions that engulfed her when she considered the idea seriously.

  The gentlemen joined the ladies. Automatically, Charlotte looked for the earl. He was easy to spot, chatting among the gentlemen, then stopping to greet a cluster of ladies who were taking tea.

  After speaking with each of them, he lifted his head and glanced over at Charlotte. Their eyes met briefly and she saw a flirtatious spark light their depths. Then the earl smiled and inclined his head. Charlotte struggled to control her suddenly erratic breathing.

  At the urging of several of the guests, Miss Montgomery sat at the pianoforte and began an impromptu concert. Smiling with ease, she did her best to play everyone's request, before launching into a round of traditional Christmas carols.

  A few of the younger women began singing and the men soon followed. Jonathan sat beside Miss Montgomery, turning her music and singing with great enthusiasm. Even Grandpapa was humming along and tapping his foot.

  Charlotte noticed Miranda and her husband sitting very close together on the sofa, discreetly holding hands. Opposite them was the countess, who was silent, yet her expression was pleasant. And the earl-the earl's face was an odd mix of longing and loneliness. She wondered if he was remembering all the happy Christmas celebrations of his past or regretting those many years he stayed away from his home, his family and his friends.

  The evening ended when the clock struck midnight. Jonathan reminded everyone of the various activities planned for the following day and the guests gradually departed for their rooms.

  After kissing her grandfather's cheek, Charlotte bid the earl a hasty good night. He bowed politely as she took her leave, but his eyes seemed to hold a warmth when he looked at her. She tried not to read too much into it, yet the irony of the situation was not lost on Charlotte.

  Even after all these years, and all that had happened, Edward Barringer was still the most fascinating, attractive and appealing man she had ever met.

  Edward started his morning with a private breakfast in his bedchamber. He had slept poorly his first night back home and had lain awake until well past three in the morning, his mind crowded with far too many thoughts of the past and the future.

  Better, he decided as he watched the dawn slowly bring the light into his bedchamber, to try and cope with the present. To that end he went downstairs and sat in his father's study-his study now-and tried to review a variety of business papers he had brought with him from London.

  After nearly an hour of reading through a contract that should have taken only twenty minutes, Edward admitted his concentration was sorely lacking. Leaving the papers scattered on the desk, he stood and walked over to the window.

  For a long time he stayed there, staring off into the distance. Beyond the great expanse that was the faded grass of the south lawn were the bare dormant trees of the large woods, and beyond that the gentle sloping hills that defined the southern border of the estate. Though barren and bare, the view had a unique tranquility about it. Still it could not calm his growing agitation.

  "Ah, so this is where you are hiding."

  Edward's gaze flitted to the door as Jonathan entered the room. "I am not hiding," Edward replied in a tired voice.

  "Of course you are,"Jonathan responded in a cheery tone. He made himself comfortable in a leather wing chair positioned in front of a roaring fire, p
ropping his feet up on the cushioned ottoman. "Mother and a bevy of the women are trying to recruit helpers for a rather ambitious number of charitable projects they insist must be done before Christmas Day. That means that all the sensible males are in hiding until they have assigned the more difficult tasks to the servants, poor fellows."

  "Don't you believe in charity?"

  Jonathan raised a hand to dismiss his brother's remarks. "I most certainly do. But Mother's projects are always so over the top, and when you add in all the extra female ideas she is receiving from our houseguests it becomes a colossal undertaking. Better to wait until there are more reasonable tasks to accomplish."

  "Planning never was Mother's strong suit," Edward agreed.

  "No, when we were younger she usually relied upon you to get everything organized for her."

  "Those days are long over." Edward clenched his jaw. "She'd rather the tenants starve than ask for my assistance."

  Jonathan gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's not all that bad."

  "Isn't it?" Edward opened and closed a fist, striving to keep his emotions under control. He reminded himself that it was going to take time to mend the rift between himself and his mother. Time and an almost inexhaustible amount of patience. "She stared at me as if I were a three-headed monster when I offered to escort her into dinner last evening."

  "But she did eventually take your arm,"Jonathan pointed out. "And you had your bit of fun and revenge with the placards. Mother was having fits over the seating at the dinner table. I was surprised she managed to eat any of the meal. You know what a stickler she can be for propriety and formality."

  Edward looked away, lowering his gaze to the fire. "What makes you think that I am responsible for last night's seating arrangement?"

  Jonathan's hearty laugh echoed off the woodpaneled walls. "Aside from me, you are the only one who possesses enough nerve to pull such a stunt." Sobering slightly, he added, "Though I must add it was not the best way to endear yourself to her."

  Edward smiled faintly, acknowledging his brother's point. "Did she say anything to you about it?"