His Mistress By Christmas (19 page)

“No, indeed.” Miranda sat down beside her sister. “We have come for Christmas, and we shall stay for Christmas.”

“No.” He glared. “You won’t.”

“I think we should take this to a higher power,” Bianca said in a lofty manner.

“As do I.” Miranda crossed her arms over her chest. “We demand to see
Lady Hadley-Attwater
. I can’t imagine she would be so ungracious as to throw us—
your sisters
—out into the streets.”

“We’re in the country,” he said sharply. “There are no streets.”

“Into the cold, then.” Bianca glared. “I’m sure she will be appalled that you would even consider such a thing.”

“And at Christmas!” Miranda shook her head mournfully. “Oh, Sebastian, how could you?”

“It’s remarkably easy.” He narrowed his eyes. “You were not invited. Therefore you are not welcome.”

“We’re not leaving.” Miranda settled firmly back on the sofa, a well-remembered stubborn look on her face.

Bianca’s expression matched her sister’s. “You shall have to throw us out bodily.”

“Don’t tempt me!”

“We insist on speaking to your wife,” Bianca demanded.

“Either send for her or we shall search for her ourselves,” Miranda warned. “We don’t intend to leave until—”

“Bloody hell! There is no wife!”

Miranda stared. “What do you mean, there is no wife?” “What have you done with her?” Suspicion sounded in Bianca’s voice.

“I have murdered her and hidden her body in a trunk in the attic!”

Miranda gasped.

“Don’t be absurd, Miranda. He’s teasing us.” Bianca glared at her brother. “You are teasing us, aren’t you?”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched. “If I were to murder someone and hide her body, right now I can think of no better candidates than the two of you!”

“Surely not at Christmas?” Miranda’s eyes widened.

“Of course not, dear.” Bianca patted her sister’s arm.

“Lady Smithson does have a great deal of money,” Miranda murmured.

“All of which would be mine if she were my wife,” Sebastian said sharply. “Not that I have need of it. I have my own fortune, so there would be no necessity to murder her. However, the need to dispatch the two of you—”

“Nonsense.” Bianca waved an impatient hand. “Her money might not be yours at all. There are various marriage arrangements that can be made regarding a woman’s fortune that keep her funds under her control. Oh, it requires agreement on both sides and signing a great number of papers.” She glanced at her sister. “Don’t you remember when I married, Adrian insisted on that?”

Miranda nodded. “Wisely, as it turned out.”

“Veronica is not dead, nor is she my wife.”

“Why not?” Miranda asked.

“You said you’d be married by Christmas,” Bianca said pointedly. “Christmas is less than a week away.”

“Unless you plan on being married here?” Miranda brightened. “What a wonderful idea! A Christmas wedding in the country. And with the whole family present! Oh, you are a clever devil, Sebastian.”

“He’s not that clever.” Bianca studied him. “What is going on here, brother dear?”

He drew his brows together. “What do you mean, the whole family?”

Bianca shifted uneasily. “You first.”

He stared for a moment, then sucked in a hard breath. “You told them! I specifically asked you not to say a word, and you told them!”

“Not all of them.” Miranda winced. “Mother and Portia had already left for Italy.”

“Come now, Sebastian, did you honestly think we could keep a secret of this magnitude? Besides, you said you would be married by Christmas. You were quite definite about it.” Bianca’s brow furrowed. “Why aren’t you?”

“She said no, that’s why.” He sank into a chair. “I asked her to marry me, and she turned me down.”

Miranda stared. “I don’t believe it.”

“How could she possibly turn you down?” Bianca scoffed.

“You are something of a catch. You’re famous and dashing and not at all unattractive. Why, I can name any number of women who would snatch you up in a minute.”

“As much as I am heartened by your defense, apparently Veronica is not among that number.” He blew a long breath. “She doesn’t wish to be married.”

Confusion colored Miranda’s face. “Why on earth not? I’ve never heard of a woman who did not wish to be married.”

“Veronica is unique. One of many reason why I love her.” He paused. “She quite values her independence, and she has no desire to turn over control of her life to a husband. Even me.”

Bianca nodded thoughtfully. “I can understand that.”

“But she is here, isn’t she?” Miranda said slowly.

“Yes, she is here.” He nodded.

“If she doesn’t wish to marry you, why is she here?” Bianca studied her brother.

“It’s somewhat complicated,” he said under his breath.

“We’re surprisingly intelligent. I daresay we can understand even something complicated,” Bianca said wryly. “Go on.”

“If I confide in you . . .” His gaze shifted from one sister to the next. “I need your word of honor that you will not share this with anyone else.”

“Goodness, Sebastian.” Miranda huffed. “We know how to keep a secret.”

He raised a skeptical brow.

“You asked us not to tell the family.” Bianca sighed. “You didn’t make us promise or give our word or anything of that nature. Indeed, it was something of a casual request.”

“I didn’t think it was the least bit casual.”

“We didn’t think you truly meant it,” Miranda said. “But if you mean it now—”

“And I do!”

“Very well, then.” Miranda shrugged. “You have our word. We shall keep this secret until our dying day.”

He pinned Bianca with a hard look. “I need your word as well.”

She shrugged. “You have it.”

He considered them for a long moment. He couldn’t let his sisters come face-to-face with Veronica without them knowing exactly what the circumstances were. God only knows what they might say to her. Or she might say to them. As his sisters obviously had no intention of leaving, he didn’t really have a choice as to whether or not to take them into his confidence.

“Veronica sees no need to marry. She has no desire to be a wife.” He drew a deep breath. “She would prefer to be my mistress.”

“Dear Lord!” Miranda gasped. “That’s scandalous!”

“Isn’t it, though?” Bianca studied her brother thoughtfully. “Forgive my confusion, but in order to have a mistress, isn’t a man supposed to have a wife as well? Can one be a mistress to a man who doesn’t have a wife? Otherwise, I’m afraid I don’t see the point.”

“The point is it’s immoral. Perhaps less so if there is no wife involved,” Miranda said. “Regardless, it’s still . . . improper at the very least to be . . . to be
intimate
with this woman!”

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I am not.” He paused. “Not as of yet.”

Miranda gasped.

Bianca raised a brow. “I see. Then—”

“It’s a question of terms and definitions, I suppose.” Sebastian met Bianca’s gaze. “The real point is she refuses to marry me.”

“How very interesting,” Bianca murmured.

“It’s not interesting. It’s disgraceful.” Miranda turned toward her sister. “Aren’t you shocked? Outraged?”

“I am surprised,” Bianca said slowly. “But, oddly enough, I’m not outraged. I should be, I suppose, but it makes a certain amount of sense for a woman who wishes to keep what she has. In an unconventional sort of way, of course, but then she is unconventional, isn’t she?”

Sebastian snorted.

“Unconventional or not, what she wants is wrong.” Miranda’s gaze shifted from her sister to her brother and back. “The fact that the two of you don’t realize that is shocking as well.” She directed a firm look at her brother. “You should send her on her way, Sebastian. Throw her out. This very minute.”

He sighed. “I have no intention of throwing her out.” Bianca raised a brow. “You’re accepting her as your mistress, then?”

“Only for the moment. I want her to be my wife,” he said firmly.

“Let me make certain I understand this.” Bianca paused to gather her thoughts. Her brow furrowed. “For reasons that apparently I alone can understand, maintaining her independence and managing her own affairs, Lady Smithson does not wish to marry. However, she does seem to want you.” She looked at her brother. “Does she love you?”

“She hasn’t said it,” he admitted grudgingly, “but I am confident that she does.”

Bianca nodded. “Whereas you, Sebastian Hadley-Attwater, who has a sizable and most disreputable reputation when it come to women—”

Miranda groaned.

“—you, who has never shown any interest in marriage whatsoever, you, who has run from the very suggestion of marriage in the past, you are determined to marry this woman who does not wish to marry?”

“That is the sum of it, yes.”

Bianca stared at him, then stifled a laugh.

He glared. “This is not amusing.”

“Oh, but it is.” Bianca laughed.

“Bianca!” Miranda stared. “This isn’t the least bit funny.”

“On the contrary, this may well be the funniest thing I have ever heard,” Bianca choked out. She sniffed back a laugh. “The tables have turned on you, dear brother. It’s most amusing, and more than a little ironic and well deserved.”

“Thank you for your sisterly support,” he said dryly.

Bianca grinned. “I haven’t even met the woman and I like her.”

“You certainly have our support in your pursuit of marriage.” Miranda smiled weakly.

“We can see why you don’t want the rest of the family to know of this.” Bianca met his gaze. “It might well sway Adrian and Hugh’s decision regarding your inheritance.”

“That had occurred to me.” He ran his hand through his hair.

“They are both rather stuffy,” Miranda said under her breath.

“Do you understand why I need to spend time alone with her? I can’t possibly convince her to marry me in the midst of a crowd of Hadley-Attwaters.” He rose to his feet. “With that in mind, you need to be on your way. At once.”

“Sit down, Sebastian,” Bianca said firmly. “We are the least of your problems. Or we soon will be.”

“I’m afraid to ask what you mean by that.” At once the answer dawned on him. He sat and prayed he was wrong. “When you thought there might be a wedding, you said something about the whole family being here.”

“Oh dear.” Miranda winced.

“There is something else. . . .” Reluctance sounded in Bianca’s voice.

He stared at his sisters. “Well?”

Bianca and Miranda exchanged guilty looks.

“If we had known . . . ,” Miranda began.

Bianca grimaced. “If you hadn’t lied to us . . .”

“I never lied to you!”

“You said you’d be married by Christmas,” Bianca snapped.

“And are you?”

“No, you are not.” Miranda huffed. “Therefore, in very many ways, this is all your fault.”

He drew his brows together. “What is all my fault?”

“The fact that you don’t have a wife,” Miranda said.

“A wife that everyone is expecting to meet.” Bianca’s words rushed out. “When they arrive later today.”

“When who arrives later today?” Sebastian’s voice rose.

“It could be tomorrow morning,” Miranda said quickly. “Plans were a bit uncertain.”

“When who arrives?” Sebastian’s voice thundered in the room.

“You needn’t raise your voice.” Bianca pulled an invisible thread off her sleeve and flicked it away. “We’ve agreed this is your fault, after all.”

“We’ve agreed nothing of the sort.” He stared in disbelief.

“When who arrives?”

“The rest of the family.” Bianca smiled pleasantly. “Oh, not Mother and Portia, as they have already left for Italy—”

“We did mention that,” Miranda pointed out.

“But Adrian and Evelyn and Hugh are coming.”

“And Diana insisted on changing her plans,” Miranda added.

“She was most eager to do so.”

“Along with Diana, her husband, of course, and the children.” Shock widened his eyes. “Is there anyone in the family who isn’t coming?”

“You’re being inhospitable again, Sebastian.” Miranda sniffed. “It’s not as if we invited any of the aunts or uncles or cousins.”

“And Mother isn’t—”

“Yes, yes, I know.” He jumped to his feet and paced the room.

“That’s something at any rate. Not much but something. Aside from that, this is a disaster.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Bianca waved away his comment. “It’s simply the family together for Christmas.”

“Simply?
Simply?
” He stared at her. “It’s
simply
the stiff and stuffy Earl of Waterston and his equally proper wife. It’s
simply
the eminently respectable barrister Hugh Hadley-Attwater, who has never so much as wandered anywhere close to anything improper. The two men who will
simply
decide if I am yet worthy of receiving the inheritance my father left for me. And it’s simply Diana and her husband, Lord and Lady Stick-in-the-Mud, and their dozens of children.”

“Only four, I think,” Miranda murmured. “Children, that is. Not dozens. Four dozen children would be excessive.”

“You have to stop them.” Panic sounded in Sebastian’s voice. Bianca raised a brow. “And how would you suggest doing that?”

“They are probably already on their way,” Miranda said. “And even if they aren’t, by the time we returned to town, it would be too late.”

“It’s never too late.” He shook his head. “Even if you arrived in the middle of the night, you could stop them.”

“Sebastian—” Miranda began.

“I could dispatch someone with a note,” Sebastian said quickly, his mind racing. “A footman perhaps. Yes, that would work.”

“And what would this note say?” Bianca asked.

“I don’t know,” he snapped. “I’ll think of something.” He cast her a menacing look. “You should think of something as you are the ones who set this all in motion.”

Miranda shook her head. “You said you’d be married—”

“Blast it all, I know what I said!” He resumed pacing, trying to think of something—anything. “I know.” Desperation sounded in his voice. “There’s a bridge a few miles from here on the road to London. We could . . . tear it down. Yes, that’s good. Or, better yet, blow it up.”

Miranda stared. “Do you have something with which to blow up a bridge?”