A Christmas Seduction: A Regency Anthology (10 page)

Though she tried not to dwell overlong on it, she distinctly remembered the fire, the soot which took weeks to wash from her hair, the worms, the dirt… The list of the Mayford brothers’ crimes against the Bright sisters was long and revolting.

If she were inclined to being fair, she would admit that the list of their crimes against the bothersome brothers was just as long and probably as bad. But, regardless of it being Christmastide, and therefore the season of good will, she
wasn’t
inclined to be fair, and so her mood remained foul and her temper remained hot. She would continue trying to get her sisters to back out of this house party that the Duchess of Ashbury was hosting for her horrible sons until they arrived at Wingham, and into the depths of Hades.

“We know, Louisa, you think it a horrid idea.” Sara, the youngest, and possibly the most devilish of the three, drawled in a tone that said she was sick of hearing about it. “But we’re going, so the best thing to do is arm yourself, and prepare for battle.”

The glint in Sara’s eyes was mirrored in Meredith’s, and, Louisa, although she had her reasons for dreading this visit, felt the stirrings of excitement. The Mayfair brothers were worthy adversaries, true. But the Bright sisters would prevail, as they always did.

Now, if she could just forget that three years ago it had been Hugh Mayford who’d delivered her very first kiss — and her very first taste of heartbreak — she could concentrate on enjoying finally winning the war that had raged between the two sets of siblings since they’d been in leading strings. Her sisters, oblivious to her secret shame, assumed that what she felt was the usual anger and disgust they all felt at the mere mention of the Mayford name. And Louisa would never tell them otherwise.

The carriage finally pulled up outside Wingham, a colossal building that was almost the same size as the egos of its occupants.

Meredith stepped out first, Louisa following to stand to her left, Sara to her right.

“Ready?” whispered Meredith.

No, I’m dashed well not ready to see Hugh Mayford again.

“Yes,” was the answer she gave.

It was one house party and one Christmas. How much could possibly happen in such a short space of time?

“D
ID YOU HEAR THAT
?” Jackson Mayford, youngest son of the Duke of Ashbury, whispered to Hugh just as he was preparing to let a mouse loose under the coverlet of what was to be one of the Bright sister’s beds for the duration of the party.

Briefly, Hugh had considered whether at nine and twenty he was a little long in the tooth for such behavior, but then his mind would throw up images of some of the Bright sisters’ finest moments; ink in their tea cups,
fires
in their drawing room — though they cried innocence on that one — and his resolve would firm. This would end when they were victorious and not a moment sooner.

Both he and Jack had decided that to strike first was to strike best. Putting the little termagants on the back foot would gain them some much needed ground for the next couple of weeks.

Now, however, Jackson had raised the alarm, and Hugh listened intently. If Mother was to find out what they were doing she would have their heads.

Sure enough, there was the distinct sound of people approaching.

Hugh slammed the lid back onto the jar and looked wildly around the room. There’s no way both he and his brother would fit their taller than average bodies under the bed, and they couldn’t go out the door if people were approaching it.

The doorknob rattled slightly, and without another moment’s hesitation, Hugh grabbed Jackson by the scruff and hauled him into the water closet.

Half a second later, the door opened and the room was suddenly filled with excited chatter as the hags entered the chamber. The sound was a cacophony of giggles and shrieks and it was all Hugh could do to stop himself from bellowing at them to be quiet. He had, perhaps, over-imbibed with the brandy last night.

He glared through the gap in the water closet, wondering if time had changed the appearance of the hags at all when suddenly, the most breathtaking woman he’d ever seen stepped into his view.

Hugh’s heart just about stopped beating in his chest.

That couldn’t be Louisa Bright, could it? He quickly scanned the other people in the room; the taller, coolly beautiful blond was definitely Meredith Bright, the other one, with the impish smile and large eyes sparkling with mischief was surely the younger one.

That left Louisa.

He looked again.

The vision that walked through the door had stunning, golden blonde hair swept away from the most breathtakingly beautiful face he’d ever seen.

He remembered Louisa Bright from three years ago. She’d been a pretty thing, even if he felt at the time that the devil himself had spawned her. It was doubtful that time had changed her personality, but good God, time had been very kind to her looks.

Hugh’s mouth went dry and his heart, strangely, began to pound.

What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never before been so affected by the mere sight of a lady. Especially one he despised.

He suddenly thought back to three years ago, when he’d kissed her. He’d dragged her out to the gardens to get to the bottom of her recent machination. When he’d gone to the village that morning, he had been besieged by every single woman in the county, it had seemed. He quite literally hadn’t been able to walk from one place to the next without them throwing themselves at him. Some of them pretending to faint, some of them pretending to trip, most of them being forward enough to almost bring him to blush, until he ended up with a trail of them, hanging on to each of his limbs and some other body parts that would have caused his mother to have an apoplexy. Hugh and his brothers had always garnered plenty of female attention being titled, wealthy, and, he thought, rather smugly, not too bad to look at. But this! This had been something else.

It had only been when he’d finally managed to get inside the local inn that he’d gotten to the bottom of it. The bratty Brights had taken out an advertisement in the local newspaper, claiming that Hugh was desperate for a wife but far too shy to go about courting anyone and was hoping to find a lady, of any class, of any age, size, look, to be bold enough to make the first approach.

Hugh’s temper had immediately flared. This one had Louisa Bright written all over it. She was the most bookish of her sisters, the most serious. Where the other two hags were content to carry out relatively simple tricks that had an immediate impact, Louisa’s schemes were always well-planned manipulations and war strategies, the likes of which Nelson himself would be proud.

While the sympathetic innkeeper had been helping Hugh to make his escape through a back door of the inn, Hugh had been planning dastardly ways to get back at the chit.

Arriving home, he’d seen her and her evil sisters sitting on the verandah overlooking the rose gardens. As he’d approached, he saw Meredith and Sara, a mere child, make their way inside, which had suited Hugh just fine. He’d dragged Miss Louisa Bright off to a more private spot deep in the hedgerows where he delivered a furious set down in peace. The two had been toe to toe, arguing at very nearly the top of their lungs. Hugh had been, admittedly, rather insulting about the girl; she had been more so, claiming that it wasn’t her fault the village idiots seemed to have taken a liking to him. It was when she’d said that she should perhaps set up a charity of sorts, to help these women cure themselves of their lack of taste in men that the last of his control had slipped.

To this day, Hugh had no idea what had possessed him to grab the infuriating woman, pull her toward him, and crush her lips beneath his own. But he’d done it. Even now, every so often, most especially in the still, dark night, Hugh remembered the feel of her soft, plump lips beneath his own. He remembered the gasp of surprise. He remembered the scent of honeysuckle that reminded him of her to this day. Most of all, he remembered how, after her initial resistance, she’d melted against him as though she belonged wrapped in his arms.

Unfortunately, he also remembered the moment she’d reared back and smacked his face, the sound reverberating around the quiet gardens.

The sound of people emptying from the room brought Hugh crashing back to the present and to the fact that he was still ensconced in the water closet, watching like some sort of voyeur. Worse still, his little brother was doing the same.

Apparently this was to be Louisa’s room, for she was the only one who remained. Hugh darted a look at Jackson, wondering if his younger brother would somehow be able to read his thoughts and know what he’d done all those years ago. But Jack’s eyes were trained on Louisa Bright who, having placed her valise on the chaise and wandered around the room, was now unbuttoning her travelling coat.

Hugh had the sudden urge to plant a facer on his brother’s cheek, or at least cover the younger man’s eyes. Which was nonsensical. Why should he care who saw her? Why should he care that she was slowly, torturously, removing clothing, revealing smooth, supple skin, a delicate décolletage, and curves to make a man weep.

All right. That was enough. Hugh took a subtle step in front of Jackson, blocking the other man’s view.

He didn’t have to worry for too long, however, since the arrival of Miss Bright’s maid to fetch her to her mother’s room meant that she left before Jackson could push his way around Hugh.

As soon as she’d left, the men burst out of the water closet, shoving each other as they went.

“Well, looks like you’re in trouble, big brother.” Jackson smirked causing Hugh’s temper to rise.

“Do be quiet, Jack,” he responded darkly, but his eyes never left the door through which Louisa Bright had just exited.

CHAPTER TWO

L
OUISA’S TEMPER WAS SOARING
, and she hadn’t even set eyes on the blasted Mayford louts yet. She’d just been hearing Meredith’s tale of her first encounter with the eldest and his dismissal of her. How dare Lucas Mayford make her sister feel embarrassed?

Louisa had missed the exchange since she’d been late down to the ball.

It had taken an age to pick a suitable gown. She wanted to look her absolute best so that she was fully prepared to meet Hugh Mayford face to face again. Not that she cared what he thought of her, of course. Why should she?

And speaking of Hugh, Louisa had yet to set eyes on the man.

She had asked if her sisters had seen the other brothers but although Sara had mentioned seeing Jackson, and of course Lucas, earning a sound Meredith scolding for using their Christian names, there hadn’t been any mention of Hugh.

Then she’d had to sit tight while Meredith lectured them on decorum. Meredith had been adamant that they would rise above things and be sophisticated young ladies on this visit. Louisa heartily disagreed.

The only thing she wanted to rise above was her hand over her head so she could deal out another slap or two.

“I am not,” Sara had said hotly, “calling them Lord Ashbury, or Mr. Mayford… heavens.”

“Lord only knows what they’ll do with that kind of ego elevation,” Louisa had interjected fiercely.

“And besides, they are Lucas, Hugh and Jack to us! We’ve seen them in short pants and with bloody noses—”

“I get the picture… but
we
are ladies. They might be savage and uncouth natives, but we are not. We will address them as is proper because
we
are proper… they are simply beneficiaries of our manners.” Meredith had folded her hands on her lap in that annoyingly ladylike way of hers.

Louisa felt suddenly weary of the whole thing. She’d been living on nervous adrenaline all day, awaiting her moment of confrontation with Hugh Mayford, and the horrible man hadn’t even had the decency to turn up.

She hoped his mother rang a peal over his head for his rudeness.

“You are far too uptight,” Louisa had sighed. “I’m going to bed. Can you believe that they gave us all separate rooms? I don’t know whether to be thankful or afraid.” She hadn’t trusted a Mayford man in years, and being isolated from her sisters only increased her wariness.

And she had had every intention of going to bed. But she was so het up, so upset for her sister, that she didn’t think she would sleep at all, and so, sneaking away from the party, she wandered aimlessly around the darkened hallways of the house, eventually finding her way to the darkened conservatory.

The conservatory was blissfully quiet but unfortunately it wasn’t the best choice of rooms, given the biting cold outside.

Shivering, Louisa went to peruse the shelves of potted plants; most of them sadly empty at this time of year. But some were filled with shrubs and winter flowers, and they gave the room a pleasant, fresh smell.

Much as she tried to stop it, Louisa couldn’t prevent her mind from wandering back again.

She had come to this very conservatory all those years ago after she’d dealt Hugh the slap he’d deserved. She had been furious; with him for daring to kiss her and with herself for enjoying it so much. What the blazes was wrong with her? He had been the enemy, and she had turned to a wanton mess in his strong arms.