A Christmas Scandal (11 page)

“I told you he doesn’t like to talk about it,” Amelia said.

“I enjoyed married life, myself,” Sir William said in an obvious attempt to deflect whatever was going on, for though the words spoken were innocuous, it was clear there was an undercurrent of meaning being passed around.

“Shall we talk about something more pleasant?” Maggie asked with forced joviality. “Perhaps the plague?”

Everyone laughed, and Lord Hollings had the good grace to look a bit sheepish. She silently prayed the subject would change, for it was becoming a bit painful to hear even though she knew she was responsible for bringing the subject to the forefront. She wondered if Lord Hollings even remembered their discussion of marriage, if he’d agonized over it as she had. Probably not. If she brought it up, he’d likely look at her as if she were daft. But she remembered nearly every word, every expression, every heartbreaking syllable he’d uttered.

It had been at Elizabeth’s wedding and they’d been having such a lovely time. After not seeing Lord Hollings for weeks, she’d been so ridiculously happy to see him, though she’d tried her best not to show it. He’d held her and angrily told her he didn’t love her, wouldn’t marry her, cutting her with those words he’d spoken so vehemently. “I shan’t get married,” he said. “Not for years and years. Even if I did get married, I wouldn’t marry you,” he’d said. “Because I…I…” He’d lowered his head, unable to finish.

“Because you?”

“Because I couldn’t bear it,” he’d said.

She didn’t know what he’d meant then, and she didn’t know now. All she did know was that Lord Hollings had left soon after, leaving her heartbroken and confused and determined to never be hurt again. Particularly not by him. It was no use pining for a man who had a strange aversion to marriage, one that he, apparently, had no intention of reversing.

While she’d been basking in her own miserable memories, Sir William had been talking to her and she lifted her head, startled, when he said, “What do you think, Miss Pierce?”

“Oh. Yes.” She prayed she wasn’t saying yes to something horrid, like eating raw oysters or playing chess.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” That was Lord Hollings, eyebrows raised, as if he were startled by her answer. Oh, dear, she’d have to confess her wandering mind.

“I’m sorry,” she said with an embarrassing laugh. “What have I just agreed to? I’m afraid I was lost in thought and haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. I hope it’s not too horrid.”

“Certainly not,” Sir William said, but Maggie got the sense that he was not entirely pleased. “We’ve just invited Lord Hollings to accompany us on our ride.”

“Of course I must go. You certainly cannot go out with two single men on your own,” Harriet said as she pushed the final hat pin into her rather ragged-looking peacock-feathered hat. Each time Maggie noticed something like that about her mother—a frayed collar, a faded skirt—it reminded her just how desperate their situation was. At times it seemed as if her mother’s mind was becoming as frayed as her clothing and that Maggie only had to fix her clothes to fix everything else that had gone wrong with their world.

“I know it would be unseemly. It’s only I wish Elizabeth could come. Not that I don’t enjoy your company, Mama,” she said, giving her mother a peck on the cheek.

“If it had been only Sir William, I would have allowed it. After all, he is an older gentleman who certainly would not take advantage of a young girl.”

“Mama, it was Sir William who asked me to ride with him. I think he is considering courting me.”

Her mother eyed her skeptically. “He is older than your father. And if that is the case, why did he invite Lord Hollings? A man his age cannot compete with a young, handsome earl.”

“Lord Hollings invited himself. And don’t fool yourself into thinking it was his interest in me, it is not. He wants to see Sir William’s horses.”

Harriet let out a heavy sigh. “Sir William does seem taken with you. I suppose you could do worse.”

“Much worse,” Maggie said with false cheerfulness. She did like Sir William, but the thought of him kissing her made her want to giggle. She simply could not imagine wanting him to kiss her, never mind everything else that marriage required. At the thought of that, she closed her mind and pushed that image away. She should only think about how happy her mother would be not to worry so much.

“Do you like him?”

“I suppose. I’ve only just met him, Mother. Surely you don’t expect me to make a decision about marrying a complete stranger so quickly.”

“Of course not,” Harriet said, but there was a bit of pique in her tone, as if she did, indeed, think Maggie should make such a decision.

“He hasn’t asked,” Maggie said in a teasing tone.

Harriet’s face suddenly looked strained, almost as if she were trying desperately not to cry. “What if he doesn’t? What if no one does?”

“Papa won’t be in prison forever.”

“By then we’ll be destitute. It will be nearly impossible for your father to find employment,” her mother said bitterly.

Maggie hugged herself, hating that she could no longer have a conversation with her mother without bringing up how dreadful their situation was. “Sam has a good job now and Aunt Catherine—”

“Samuel can hardly care of himself. He’s living in a one-room flat, scraping by because no one with any connections will hire him. And my sister cannot support us all.”

Maggie hated how suddenly their entire family’s future rested on her shoulders. “I’ve told you I would find a position, if worse comes to worst. Really, Mother, people do work for a living.”

Her mother reared her hand back as if to slap her. Maggie couldn’t have been more shocked. Harriet, her face red, her breathing audible, dropped her hand. “If you had told me what had happened before we left New York you would have been safely married to Arthur. I would have insisted on it. To think he got away with such a thing with no repercussions sickens me. And to think you kept such a thing a secret and allowed him to…to…” Her mother’s words came out as gasps.

“Mama, please calm down,” Maggie said, wanted to scream and scream that it wasn’t Arthur who had taken her virginity. Her mother took a deep, shaking breath.

“Oh, my. I told myself I wouldn’t think about it. It does make me angry. Not with you, darling,” she said, giving her daughter a tremulous smile. Maggie wanted to believe her, but how could she when she’d come so close to striking her? Such a thing would have been unheard of just a few months ago.

“Let’s try to enjoy this day, Mama. And promise me you will not push me. You’ve always told me that men sense a desperate girl and it is a most unattractive trait.”

“That is true. But desperate mamas can be forgiven,” she said lightly, tapping Maggie on the nose as if she hadn’t just been on the verge of slapping her.

Maggie felt sick inside, but forced a smile. “Let’s go. The men await.”

Edward stood beside Sir William feeling a bit foolish, which was not something he often felt. He realized, soon after he’d gotten the begrudgingly offered invitation to join Sir William on his ride with Maggie, that he should have gracefully declined. It was, after all, what Sir William had expected him to do. No doubt if the older man had thought for a moment he would say yes, the invitation would never have been offered. But the thought of Maggie riding alone with Sir William drove him a bit mad.

Now he felt out of sorts and out of control. Edward was a man who liked being in control, which made life extremely difficult for him because thus far he’d had very little control over what happened to him and those around him. He couldn’t stop himself from getting ill, he couldn’t stop his parents from dying, and now it seemed he couldn’t stop the woman he loved from going on a drive with another man. He supposed that was why he’d enjoyed the military life so much. Everything was regimented, there were clear rules to follow, clear consequences.

The two men, a generation apart, stood together in a small sitting room that was part of Bellingham’s private quarters. Sir William wore the uniform of a country gentleman: a tweed coat, brown, over a darker brown jacket, which at the moment rested in the crook of his arm. For some reason, he hadn’t wanted to hand it over to the footman. His boots were expensive but had the necessary wear and tear to prove they were well worn and not simply for show. He was shorter than Edward by several inches and pounds heavier, which made Edward slightly pleased. Edward hated sizing the man up but simply couldn’t help himself. He knew he was a rather vain fellow and for the life of him couldn’t understand why Maggie was showing Sir William such interest.

“I do hope I’m not intruding,” Edward said, hoping nothing of the sort.

“Oh, no. Miss Pierce is probably glad to have someone her age along,” Sir William said in that self-deprecating way of his. Edward put himself on guard. It had been his experience that humble men had traplike resolve and were especially attractive to women.

“She actually didn’t seem all that pleased,” Edward said truthfully.

“Do you think so?” Sir William brightened noticeably, which made Edward even more uncomfortable. What if he was right? What if Maggie did have her sights on Sir William and the feeling was mutual? What if he had to stand by and watch her fall in love with another man?

“Do you know Miss Pierce well?” Sir William asked.

No, but I managed to fall in love with her anyway.
“No. We met in the States when His Grace was there. She is the duchess’s best friend and as I was traveling with His Grace, we did see each other quite a bit.” That sounded nicely neutral.

“She was engaged?”

“Not when we met.”

“Hmmm.”

Edward didn’t like the sound of that “hmmm.” It was full of meaning, but Edward couldn’t decipher exactly what it meant, so he gave Sir William a questioning look.

“I suppose I was thinking myself lucky you found Miss Pierce so completely undesirable,” Sir William said with a little chuckle, a man who could not believe his good fortune.

“I don’t find her completely undesirable,” Edward said carefully. “I’m simply not in the market for a wife.”

“Neither am I,” he said, as if surprised to find himself contemplating such a thing. As if he were actually thinking of marrying Maggie. Edward’s gut twisted.

“I loved my wife and I never thought I’d think about marrying again.”

“You’ve just met her,” Edward pointed out, wondering what it was about American women that made British men fall so fast and so hard for them. Rand had fallen for his duchess within days of meeting her, even though she was hardly interested in him. And he himself nearly made an idiot of himself over Maggie, the very same Maggie who had Sir William smitten with her in a single evening.

“I know, I know. There’s just something about her. For one thing she’s beautiful. And her eyes are…” Sir William stopped, his cheeks growing ruddy. “They are quite striking. Not just brown, but…”

“They have flecks,” Edward said, growing testy with the man’s gushing.

“Flecks?”

“Green and gold.”

“Oh. You certainly are observant,” Sir William said. The older man gave Edward a thoughtful look, which made Edward feel even more testy.

At the sound of female voices, both men turned, Sir William with a genuine smile and Edward with something far less than a smile.

“Ladies, how delightful you look,” Sir William said, walking toward the women.

They did look delightful, at least Maggie did. She wore a green wool dress that hugged her body, making every delicious curve on her seem even more delicious. It was modest, with a neckline that curved at the base of her throat, but for some reason it had Edward thinking of sheets and beds and impossibly soft skin. He clenched his jaw and had to look away for fear he’d become aroused.

Sir William gave Mrs. Pierce a small bow, then grasped Maggie’s outstretched gloved hands, bringing them up for a gallant kiss. Mrs. Pierce tittered next to her daughter and it was all Edward could do not to roll his eyes to the ceiling. He was beginning to feel like a fifth wheel.

“How delightful that you’re still coming along,” Maggie said, with just the slightest emphasis on
still.
He doubted anyone else in the room detected that small nuance, but to him it screamed that he was an unwanted addition to their little party.

“Ladies,” Sir William said, holding out the crook of his arm, which Maggie promptly took, her mother beaming a smile at Edward as if he were in on this little courtship.

Edward might be miserable, but he still had enough presence of mind to admire Sir William’s landau and his bays. The horses were beautifully matched bays, strong and calm, being held by Bellingham’s uniformed livery. It was a brisk, but clear day, so the top was down.

“Will you ladies be warm enough?” he asked, feeling the cool air through his light coat.

“The sun is wonderful,” Maggie said, lifting her face to its warmth. Edward felt a rush of lust and longing so fierce he stopped breathing altogether.

“She is delightful, is she not?” Sir William said next to him.

Edward started, then nearly collapsed in relief when he saw Sir William gazing fondly at his landau and realized that was the “she” he was referring to. “And your pair is nicely turned out,” Edward said. “Beautiful animals, sir.”

“Thank you, though I daresay Bellingham likes to take the credit for them,” he said, handing Mrs. Pierce up into the landau. She sat facing the horses and Maggie sat across from her. Edward swung himself up and took the spot next to Maggie, ignoring her small gasp, just to be ornery, his back to the two bays.

“Sir, I would never forgive myself if I allowed an earl to sit backward.”

Edward looked up, slightly bemused, but saw steel determination in his eyes, which made it nearly impossible for Edward to remain seated next to Maggie.

“Such formalities are unimportant to me,” Edward said truthfully, even though he knew it was a lost cause.

“I’m afraid they are rather important to me. I’m a bit old-fashioned, it would seem.” He stood there, waiting for Edward to move, and so he really had no choice in the matter. Once he was seated he didn’t miss the look of self-satisfaction on Sir William’s face, nor the smug one on Maggie’s.

It seemed to Edward for the next hour Maggie delighted in torturing him. It was likely his over-lusted imagination, but each time she looked at Sir William she smiled that brilliant lovely smile of hers and each time she looked at him she scowled. Her mother chatted with him, making it nearly impossible to hear everything the two lovebirds said to each other. Clearly, he no longer had an ally with the mother. For some reason, he had been taken off the list of eligible bachelors, relegated to a man who’d had his chance and failed and so was discarded out of hand. Mrs. Pierce was polite, she tediously described a house they were building in New York, then went on to talk about her husband’s famously well-honed investments. Every once in a while, Maggie would give her mother a warning look, no doubt afraid that her mother’s bragging would appear unseemly. Which it did.

But Edward indulged the older woman simply because doing so allowed him to sit across from her daughter and once in a while stare unabashedly as she flirted with another man. It was exquisite torture.

At the moment, Sir William was regaling her with stories of his travels in Europe. Edward had to admit he was an entertaining fellow, the sort he would naturally have been drawn to if not for the fact that his thigh at that very moment was grazing Maggie’s. He was congratulating himself on not dragging the man to his feet and throwing him from the landau when Sir William, laughing at something Maggie said, actually reached out and briefly laid his hand upon her knee. Maggie was enjoying herself so much, she hardly noticed, but Edward found himself jerking forward, hand outstretched, ready to yank the offending hand off her knee. By the time he’d done so, the hand was gone and Edward was left looking rather foolish in midlunge and was staring into the startled expressions of Maggie and Sir William.

“I think a bee stung my back,” he said, improvising quickly.

“A bee? This time of year?” Harriet asked, looking around as if she might actually see the nonexistent bee.

“Something bit me,” Edward insisted. “But all is well now.” He smiled at Maggie, who narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. “You were telling us about Mount Vesuvius, I believe,” Edward prompted.

“Yes, when I was on the continent as a much younger man, the volcano erupted. Quite a sight.” Sir William continued on with his story about lava and Neapolitans who’d gone about their business ignoring the steam spewing from the famous volcano. Edward stared at the passing scenery, laughing when the others did, making responses when asked a question. But for the most part, he was ignored, perhaps even merely tolerated.