Brenda Hiatt (17 page)

Feeling more than a little foolish by now, he opened it and stepped out into the kitchen gardens. Surely Holly would have had no reason to come out here! With his hand still on the door handle, he glanced quickly around, intending to go back upstairs and look for Holly there.

He froze in shock. There, not ten paces from him, was his wife—firmly clasped in the arms of another man!

“What the devil is going on?” he exploded, anger and pain warring within him. He had come so close to convincing himself that she cared!

The couple broke apart to stare at him and Hunt noted with an odd sense of detachment that the man was dressed as a servant—and was completely unknown to him. He had thought he could forgive her anything, but—

Holly came towards him at once. “Oh, Hunt,” she said, her voice quavering with an emotion he could not identify, “’tis Noel! He has returned, safe at last!”

“Noel?” Hunt turned to glower at the stranger.

“My brother—you have heard me speak of him, Hunt! He has been in France this past year and more, gathering information. It was he who was writing to me, whose letter you caught me burning last May, whose letter…sent you to prison.”

“Your brother?” Hunt felt dazed, so unexpected was this twist. “But your brother is in Upper Canada,” he said stupidly.

The young man spoke now. “No. That is the story we put about so that no questions would be asked about my absence. Only Holly knew the truth.” He extended his hand. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance at last, my lord.”

Hunt automatically shook his hand, though he was thinking hard now. “Noel Paxton? I recall no agent by that name. Did you use an alias?”

“He…he was not sent by the War Office,” said Holly before he could answer. “But he
was
working for England…were you not, Noel?” She turned back to her brother anxiously. They’d had no chance yet to talk, but surely, if he was here—

“Of course, silly girl. How can you ask?” He glanced at Hunt. “You may know me as ‘Puss in Boots.’ ’Tis the way I signed my reports.”

“Puss in Boots?” repeated Hunt.
“The
Puss in Boots?”

“Of course!” Holly exclaimed excitedly. “Why did I not make the connection before? That was ever your favourite fairy tale when we were young.”

Noel grinned. “I suppose there is no harm now in admitting it, as I am unlike to resume my role now that peace negotiations are under way. Paris will fall before spring, Vandover, you mark my words.”

This appeared to divert Hunt’s attention. “Before spring, say you?” he asked. “Then you must have discovered—”

Impatiently, Holly interrupted them before they could begin a political discussion. “But what brings you here now, Noel, tonight?”

He turned back to her. “You, of course. I left Paris as soon as word reached me that one of my letters had been intercepted,” he said. “I was in a cold sweat imagining what might happen to you because of it, I can tell you, Holly.”

Noel had been safely away from France all this time! She could scarcely credit it. “’Twas not I who was in danger, but Hunt,” she told him, glancing up at her husband.

Noel followed her gaze and smiled crookedly. “Yes, I heard what happened when I reached London. I must apologize most profoundly for the indignity you bore for my sake and my sister’s, my lord. And I must thank you. When I first heard of Holly’s marriage I was sure no man could be worthy of her, but it would seem she chose wisely, indeed. I
am in your debt.” He swept Hunt an elegant bow that was at odds with his attire.

“If you are indeed the elusive Puss in Boots, then I have reason to thank you, as well,” replied Hunt. “Certain information you sent us was instrumental in the capture of more than one French spy.”

“Teasdale has been caught, then? Why did you not tell me?” Holly demanded.

Hunt turned back to her with a frown. “Teasdale? What do you mean?”

But Noel was already answering. “Yes, Teasdale has been apprehended. Someone notified the authorities at Plymouth and they arrested him when he tried to take ship for South America. The news reached London even as I did.”

“I was that someone!” she exclaimed. “I was determined he should not escape after everything he had done to me—and to Hunt. And of course he murdered poor Lord Meecham, as well.”

“Will one of you kindly tell me what you are talking about?” Hunt demanded.

“Teasdale was the traitor you were seeking,” Holly explained. “The one giving Foreign Office information to the French.”

“Are you certain of this?”

She nodded. “Noel told me that it was a clerk, one who had joined the Foreign Office since the first of the year. Teasdale was the only one who fit that description. Besides, he admitted it to me.”

Hunt looked questioningly at Noel. “Why did you send us nothing about this?”

“I thought I had.” Noel’s expression was grim when he turned to Holly. “I made it perfectly clear in that letter that you were to tell your husband, and leave the investigation to him. Plainly you did not.” Both men turned to regard her accusingly.

Holly chewed her lip. “Hunt…was away when I received that letter,” she said defensively. “I thought if…if
I could prove, on my own, that Teasdale was the traitor, that you would be proud of me, and let me help in other investigations. I never guessed everything would become so…so tangled!”

“Why did you not tell me at once, when I returned?” The gentleness of Hunt’s tone made her writhe with shame and embarrassment.

“I fear I did something stupid. You see, before I figured out that the spy was Teasdale, I enlisted his help in trying to discover who the traitor was. He…he persuaded me to give him a list of names—a list I found on your own desk, Hunt—saying that it would help him to narrow the field of suspects.” She couldn’t bear to look at her husband now, fearing what she might see in his eyes.

She hurried on. “When he found that I knew he was the traitor, he threatened to expose what I had done if I told anyone. He said that it would ruin your career if it came out.”

“What list was this?” asked Hunt.

“Something to do with the meetings in Prussia. A list of liaisons, I believe.”

Hunt shook his head. “That list was common knowledge. Teasdale could have obtained it for the asking at the Foreign Office. His threat was completely empty.”

Holly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. All of those months of misery over nothing! “But he threatened Noel, as well,” she said, suddenly remembering. “Teasdale claimed Noel was really working for the French, and that he could have him hanged for it.”

“And you believed that of me?” Noel demanded.

“Oh, no, of course not,” she said quickly. “But I dared not take the chance.” Hunt remained perfectly silent. She risked a quick glance up at him, but his expression told her nothing. “His threats were not completely idle, you know. It was Teasdale who arranged to have you arrested, when I was unable to dissuade you from continuing your investigation. He told me so.”

“Teasdale wrote to you in Derbyshire?” Hunt’s voice, too, was devoid of expression.

Suddenly aware that her shoulders were bare to the winter night, Holly shivered. “No, I—I came to London, as soon as I heard,” she explained. “But before I could convince the duchess to let me see you, he visited Wickburn House. He said he had evidence that would see you hanged if I spoke out against him. He…he would not even allow me to write to you while you were in prison!” she finished plaintively, tears threatening again at remembered anguish over the heartache she must have caused him then.

“You’re more gullible than I’d have given you credit for, Holly,” said Noel roundly, making her blink. “It ain’t as easy as all that to convict a peer of a hanging offence! Teasdale diddled you thoroughly. If you’d told Vandover about him at once, as I told you to, none of this would have happened. He has proven time and again his ability to handle men such as Teasdale.”

“He has?” Her tears momentarily forgotten, Holly looked up at Hunt in amazement. He was still inscrutable.

“Did you think the only thing he did on his diplomatic missions was sign papers? He was the Foreign Office’s foremost—”

“Never mind that now,” said Hunt, interrupting him. “Holly needs to get indoors. She received a severe chill two days since, rescuing my nephew from a frozen pond.” His voice was nearly as cold as that water had been, Holly thought, but she couldn’t tell whether his anger was directed at her or Noel.

“Will you join us inside?” he continued, icily polite. “There is a ball in progress, and we shall have been missed by now.”

“Delighted,” said Noel. “That is—” he glanced down at his attire “—if I might change first? I have other clothes in my saddlebags.”

“Why
did
you come dressed like that, Noel?” Holly asked through her chattering teeth.

Noel looked rather sheepish. “I just wanted to be certain you were all right before going home to Derbyshire. Some rumours I heard in London…Anyway, I borrowed these from a vastly comely wench whose brother was ill and could not work tonight. But explanations can wait, as Vandover said.”

They all trooped up the kitchen stairs to the supper-room, where the midnight supper was already in progress. Their sudden appearance caused quite a commotion.

Reginald was the first to accost them. “We looked high and low for you, brother!”

“Holly, I was worried to death!” exclaimed Lady Anne, coming up just behind him. “Why, your hands are like ice! Hunt, what were you thinking to have her out in the cold all this time?” The duke and the dowager were bearing down on them now, and the duchess had risen from her place with an exclamation.

Quickly, Holly introduced Noel to the family before he made his apologies and went upstairs to change. Hunt then brushed all further questions aside, insisting that Holly have a bit of supper and go early to bed. He made no mention of accompanying her and did not protest when Anne volunteered to take her up.

With a sense of unreality, Holly allowed Mabel to prepare her for bed. She should have felt relieved, she knew. Her confession was over. Teasdale had been apprehended and Hunt and Noel were both safe. There was absolutely nothing left for her to worry about.

Crawling under several layers of quilts, she cried herself to sleep.

H
UNT AWOKE EARLY
, after a fitful sleep filled with dreams of his time in prison. It was a relief to see the first light of dawn peeping through the window, the blue and gold hangings of his own bedchamber around him.

Then he recalled the events of last night. In spite of his fine resolve to determine how Holly felt about him, to make her love him if she did not already, he had played the coward when the opportunity had presented itself. But she had been so happy, so glowing, at her brother’s return that he feared any response to himself might only be an extension of her relief at Noel’s return.

And, he rationalized, she had been cold and tired. It was not the time for lengthy declarations or passionate demonstrations. After she had gone up to bed, he and Noel had spent a long time talking. Finally, he believed he understood his wife—understood just how frustrated she must have been by his refusal to include her in his work. He hoped to make it up to her, as far as he was able—if she would give him the chance.

As soon as he was dressed, he went down to the kennels to check on Silverbell. His hounds always settled him, and he hoped that their unconditional affection might give him a measure of the courage he lacked.

“All right, then! Yes, it’s I,” he called out in response to the eager clamour at his entrance as every hound there vied for his attention. “Hello, Breaker, old fellow. Ho there, Bugle! Let’s see how Silverbell is doing, shall we?”

He went around to the whelping pen, where he had been keeping his prize bitch for the past two days.

“Well done, old girl!” he exclaimed at the sight of the squirming brown and black bodies surrounding her. “Let’s count them, shall we?” Gently, he lifted each one, checking both gender and conformation as he counted. “Seven! Not a bad night’s work, eh, lass?” He patted the hound on the head, and she thumped her tail at the praise.

Behind him, the other hounds began whimpering and yelping again and he turned to find Holly coming through the doorway. At the sight of him she stopped abruptly.

“Oh! I did not know you were here, my lord. I was up early to see Noel off…He hopes to make Tidebourne by nightfall.”

She looked like a winter angel with the white fur trim of her scarlet cloak surrounding her lovely face, mirroring the snowy field behind her. Hunt’s heart gave a lurch at the sight, but he beckoned to her.

“I’d planned to give you your birthday present later today, but I suppose now will do, as well.”

“My birthday present?” She sounded puzzled. Then she saw the puppies and her face lit up. “Oh, how precious! That is Silverbell, is it not? But—it is December!”

“Yes, I left instructions with Badesly that she was to be bred on her next heat, though I knew it might well come early. She’s a prizewinner, you know.”

He suddenly felt as awkward as a schoolboy. Perhaps she would laugh, or think he had run mad, giving her a puppy for her birthday instead of a bracelet or a brooch.

Quickly he said, “One of these pups is to be yours—your choice. Saddleback sired them.”

“Ooh!” At once she was on her knees in the straw, heedless of her cloak and gown. “For my own?”

She stroked one tiny head, then another. Finally, she looked up at him, and the joy on her face nearly dazzled Hunt, erasing his doubts. No piece of jewellery could possibly have pleased her so.

“You needn’t choose now, of course. But I did want to tell you on your birthday. ’Twas most obliging of Silverbell to deliver them in such a timely manner.” He thought he must be grinning like a fool.

“Yes, thank you, Silverbell,” said Holly, stroking the bitch’s head. “And thank
you,
Hunt. This means more to me than you can imagine. I believe it is the best birthday present I have ever received.”

Her green eyes glowed and sparkled with unshed tears, though her expression was happy. Suddenly embarrassed, Hunt stood.

“I suppose we had best leave them to their breakfast now, and go to find ours. We can visit them again later.”

Holly nodded and allowed him to help her to her feet. As they walked back to the house in silence, Hunt felt amply rewarded. However they had wronged each other in the past, this Christmas would be a new beginning for them.

C
HRISTMAS
E
VE
would have been the most perfect day she could imagine had Holly not been gnawed by uncertainty about Hunt’s feelings for her. Noel had told her before he left that Hunt had been upset at him, not at her, but she was not sure whether to believe him.

Grandmama and Anne made quite a fuss over her, not allowing her birthday to be completely overshadowed by other Christmas Eve activities. Holly had always regarded those traditions as part of her birthday, however, and entered with enthusiasm into the bringing in of the yule log, the trunk of an entire ash tree, festooned with ivy and holly. Once it was placed in the enormous fireplace at the back of the Great Hall, the duke ceremoniously lit it with a fragment kept from last year’s yule log and recited a poem he had composed for the occasion.

Everyone stood around it singing carols while it caught, then proceeded to the dining-room, where all Holly’s favourite dishes were featured for dinner, to include apple tart with cream. Even Camilla seemed unusually well disposed
towards her that day, with none of the undercurrent of resentment that used to colour her remarks.

The excitement tired Holly, though, and when Lady Anne suggested that she go to bed after tea, she did not resist. Hunt was deep in a discussion with the duke and Sir Philip about Napoleon’s anticipated surrender, but when she rose, he stretched and yawned loudly.

“The children will have us up at first light tomorrow, so I believe I will make an early night of it, as well.” He offered Holly his arm.

Holly smiled shyly up at him. She had determined to tell Hunt about the child she carried at the first opportunity and this, apparently, would be it. His gift that morning of the puppy had erased most of her doubts, but she still worried that she might have misread his feelings.

“Do you wish me to ring for Mabel for you?” Hunt asked her when they reached the door to her chamber.

Taking a deep breath, Holly shook her head. “Not tonight, I think,” she said, echoing his words on their wedding night. The corner of his mouth twitched and she knew he remembered, too.

“But I see that your gown buttons down the back,” he said conversationally. “It seems we are faced with a dilemma. Can you think of a solution?”

“Perhaps—” Her voice nearly failed her, and she cleared her throat. “Perhaps you would be kind enough to unfasten them for me?”

“It is the least I can do, I suppose.” Hunt’s voice was also curiously husky. He opened the door to her room. “I imagine you will need help unpinning your hair, as well?”

Holly looked into his eyes and was trapped there, drowning in deep blue pools. She nodded slowly.

“Turn around, then.” He faced her away from him so that he could unbutton her gown.

The moment his eyes no longer held hers, she tried frantically to think. Everything was moving so fast, and she had not yet told him about their child. She had to do it now. She
did not really believe that all he had in mind now was begetting an heir, but she had to be certain—absolutely certain. That was the only way.

He had most of the buttons undone now. Softly as a whisper, he placed a kiss just below her ear. Holly closed her eyes and shivered deliciously.

Tell him!

The last button free, he turned her back to face him. His expression was gentle, tender, but there was a flame behind his eyes that kindled an answering spark from deep within her.

Fighting to retain at least an outward appearance of composure, Holly said, “I seem to recall you once saying that you wished for an heir, my lord…”

Hunt’s hands abruptly stilled their caressing movements on her arms. “Damnation! Is that what you think I—” He broke off, closing his eyes. The anguish in his expression nearly broke her heart.

When he opened them again, Holly caught her breath at the love she saw reflected there. “I have been such a monster,” he said. “All this time you were in pain and I could not see it, could not see anything but my own pride.”

“You had every right to doubt me,” she said. “I kept secrets from you, something I should never have done. But pray believe me when I say that I have loved you since the day we were married.” Hesitantly, she put one hand to his cheek. “Oh Hunt, can you possibly find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“Darling, I forgave you already, when I imagined…well, far worse things. Indeed, I must ask your forgiveness for the doubts I harboured. I should have known you were not capable of such deceit.”

Holly smiled ruefully. “I found I was capable of more than my conscience could handle. Oh, Hunt, I missed you so!”

He gathered her into his arms to show her how heartily he echoed that sentiment. At the first touch of their lips, passions
too long held in check exploded between them. His mouth still covering hers, Hunt picked Holly up and carried her the few steps to the bed.

Quickly, almost frantically, they stripped off each other’s clothing, but with a tenderness that had been lacking in their last passionate joining in London.

“I love you, my beautiful Holly Berry,” Hunt whispered before he entered her. The words, even more than his gentle expertise, brought her to a pitch of pleasure she had never experienced before. At last, she felt that she and her husband were truly one.

The next morning, Christmas morning, Holly awoke in her husband’s arms, enveloped in a blissful sense of well-being. Half turning, she lovingly explored his face as he slept, looking so peaceful and vulnerable that her heart ached with love for him. As she watched, the thick lashes swept up and his eyes met hers.

Instantly the vulnerability was gone, replaced by strength and awareness, but the peace remained. He looked more at rest than she could ever remember seeing him.

“Have you been watching me long?” he asked, his eyes beginning to twinkle. She had missed that twinkle!

“No, only for a moment. I was thinking how nice it is not to have any secrets for a change. Oh!”

“What? Is there a pin in the bed?”

“I have only just realized, I do have a secret still. I started to tell you last night, but I, ah, forgot.”

He chuckled, leaning forward to nuzzle her ear. “What could have distracted you, do you think?”

“’Tis just as well,” Holly continued, arching away from him slightly so that she could think. “Now it can be a Christmas present, as I told Anne it would be.”

She had his attention now. “A Christmas present? What sort of secret is this, that my sister already knows?”

Suddenly shy, Holly lowered her eyes. “In a way, it was she who told me. Hunt, I believe I am with child.”

The look on his face almost made her laugh. “With…? But how…when…?”

“From the night before I left London, I presume. ’Tis the only possibility.”

To her amazement, he let out a whoop loud enough to be heard in the servants’ quarters and then seized her in a comprehensive hug.

“You have made me the happiest man in the world, Holly! If you only knew how much I’ve longed—” Suddenly, he began to laugh. “I believe you’ve topped my gift of a puppy, my love! This is a Christmas for unconventional presents, is it not?”

T
O
H
OLLY’S EMBARRASSMENT
, Hunt announced her delicate condition to the others over the breakfast table, where everyone, to include the dowager, was gathered preparatory to leaving for the morning service at the chapel. Everyone agreed that the news was the very thing needed to make it a perfect Christmas.

“I’d been suspecting as much, my dear,” the dowager confided, giving Holly a kiss on the cheek. “But I feared it might have been only wishful thinking on my part, so I said nothing.”

Even Camilla offered her congratulations with seeming sincerity. “And what happy timing,” she added. “If the babe comes in July, as you expect, you will not even have to miss the Season, or perhaps the Little Season, either.”

“I am perfectly delighted,” declared Reginald. “Especially as Grandmama and I may take some of the credit for this happy resolution.”

Hunt and Holly turned curiously to the dowager. “Well, um, yes,” she said, looking uncomfortable for the first time since Holly had known her. “When Reggie saw how things were between the two of you last month he came here to Wickburn to consult me about it. Between us, we came up with the little deception about my failing health and final
request, to get you both here together. But I must say, it has worked out splendidly!”

“Then you are not ill, after all?” Holly had thought her happiness had reached its limit, but she was wrong.

“I should have known it,” said Hunt with mock severity, then kissed his grandmother’s cheek. “You’ve manipulated me before, Grandmama, but never to better effect. I thank you both.” He grinned at his brother.

“And I thank you,” replied Reg. “Now I need never face the horrifying possibility of becoming a duke! You have saved me from a life of dreary responsibility.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh which made everyone laugh.

Late that afternoon, when the family was all assembled in the parlour prior to Christmas dinner, a knock came on the front door.

“’Twill be some local mummers, I doubt not,” said the duke as Deeds went to answer it. “I suppose our dinner can wait while we watch their play.” He led the way into the Great Hall, the others following close behind.

Instead of a group of farmers in disguise, however, a coach stood at the door, from which Noel was helping Holly’s mother and sister. With an exclamation of delight, she ran down the steps to greet him.

“’Twas Vandover’s idea,” Noel explained in response to her excited query. “He told me that things had been a bit awkward before but that now you would like to have all the family together for Christmas.”

Holly thanked Hunt with a kiss, then turned to embrace Maman and Blanche. As they accompanied her into the house, she acquainted them with her news. As she had hoped, Maman was ecstatic at the idea of becoming a grandmother and chattered all through dinner about names and toys. Noel, too, was plainly pleased at the idea of becoming an uncle. As for Blanche, she was so overcome by the idea of having a niece or nephew that she finally seemed to forgive Holly for her marriage.