Miss Featherton's Christmas Prince (The Marriage Game Book 9) (3 page)

Mama patted Amanda’s back. “Now, do not be such a goose. Naturally, I shall send him an invitation.”

Mama held out her hand, and Amanda dutifully gave the missive to her mother. After a few moments, Mama said, “Very unexceptionable. I shall look forward to meeting his lordship. Now you must change, or have you forgot he is taking you for a ride today?”

The moment she had read the missive, she had forgot. “No, I’m on my way to my room now.” Amanda practically floated to her chamber, then fell on her bed. “Oh, Jubie, I think I am falling in love.”

Her maid had received the flowers from a footman who had brought them up, and placed them on Amanda’s dressing table. “There, you see. There was nothing to worry about. How many times have I told you that the right gentleman would come along? Stand up and let me get you out of your gown.”

Amanda stood, allowing her maid to take charge. She was the happiest lady in the world, except for one small problem. What was she going to say to Meg? She had just recovered from Lord Swindon when Lord Tarlington broke her heart. If Amanda was truly the good friend she thought she was, she would step aside for Meg to have Lord Throughgood. Then again, gentlemen regularly fell in love with Meg. This might be Amanda’s only chance at love and happiness. She re-read the note and sighed.

The next time she saw Lord Throughgood she would mention Meg and watch how he responded. If he appeared interested, Amanda could not deny Meg an opportunity for true love.

Yet what would happen if he wished to court Amanda instead? One could not, after all, force a gentleman to prefer one lady over another. Would she have to make a choice between a possible husband and her closest friend?

Fate could not be so cruel. She shook her head. No, love must find both of them. Even though Meg had said she did not wish for a love match. Surely that was only her broken heart speaking. In any event, Lord Hawksworth might be a much better husband for Meg. Not only would they be a striking couple, but she liked puzzles, and he was certainly that.

Amanda had seen Lords Hawksworth and Throughgood speaking, and they appeared to be on good terms. Perhaps Lord Throughgood could tell her more about Lord Hawksworth. That way Amanda could be certain he was right for Meg.

Amanda straightened her shoulders. All their lives, Meg had been the leader. For once Amanda would take the lead. If Lord Throughgood truly did prefer her, she would find a way to ensure Meg’s future, either with Lord Hawksworth or another gentleman. Amanda would begin this evening. One way or another, there would be a path to happiness for her and Meg.

“A
big bouquet of flowers was delivered to you, Meg.” Miss Sarah Featherton, Meg’s youngest sister, who was seventeen and chafing at still being in the schoolroom, waltzed into the room. “The note wasn’t signed.”

Was there no privacy in this house? “And how would you know that?”

“Papa looked.”

“Ah.” Not that she blamed him. Unmarried ladies were not allowed correspondence with unrelated gentlemen. Solely due to her eldest sister’s behavior, she had had to recite that many times before coming out. “Where are they?”

“On their way up to you.”

Several minutes later, a massive arrangement of red roses that had already been placed in a vase were carried in by Jimmy, one of the newer running footmen.

Meg pointed to the low table in front of her sofa. “Put them there, if you would.”

Nestled in the blooms was a card. She plucked it from its nesting place.

The author’s hand was firm and slanting. Obviously a man’s, but what gentleman did she know who would not sign the card? Lord Throughgood? He
had
appeared to be a little shy. Yet how to be certain? She turned to Jimmy, who was still waiting to be dismissed. “How were the flowers delivered?”

“By a footman, miss.”

“Did anyone happen to notice the colors of his livery?”

“I saw him, miss. They were blue and green.”

“Thank you, you may go now.”

He bowed and left.

Sarah wrinkled her brow. “Do you know who sent them?”

“Not yet, but I can easily look up who has blue and green colors.” Meg sniffed the roses before strolling to the door.

“That is a wonderful idea,” Sarah said as she followed Meg. “I hope some gentleman sends me flowers.”

Her sister shared the family traits of dark hair and blue eyes, and, although they were considered an attractive family, Sarah resembled their grandmother Featherton and was truly beautiful. “When you come out, the house will be so full of flowers we’ll have to set them outside.”

“I hope so.” She beamed. “If you need help searching, I can help.”

Meg glanced at the clock. “Do you not have studies?”

Her sister scrunched up her face. “German.”

“You’d better get back to it.”

Once she had attained the library, it was only a matter of minutes before she had a list of houses having blue and green as their colors. She had been correct. Only the earldom of Grantville, however, had a family member in Town of the right age to send her flowers. The flowers must have come from Lord Throughgood.

Glancing at the book again, she tried to bring up a vision of Lord Throughgood. He was a good-looking enough man, albeit fairly nondescript. His light brown curls were cut fashionably, and his eyes hovered somewhere between blue and gray. She tried to imagine herself with him, when an image interfered, of raven-black hair and sultry brown eyes set above a classically straight Greek nose with a slight bump.

Lord Hawksworth was not the type of gentleman she wished to wed. He was complicated, and roguish, and hiding something. Meg gave herself a shake. What she needed was an innocuous, if pudgy, gentleman who would not break her heart. Lord Throughgood would be perfect.

She considered briefly walking to Amanda’s home to share her news, but thought better of it. During the whole of the past three Seasons, the only flowers Amanda had received were from her father and brothers. Meg did not know which was worse, having horrible suitors or having none at all. At least Amanda had never had to live through a broken heart. As soon as Meg was married, she would be in a better position to find a husband for her friend.

“Do you know now who they’re from?”

She had forgot her sister was still with her. “Yes. Lord Throughgood.”

“Sarah, return to the schoolroom this moment.” Mama stood next to the open door, her arm pointing toward the corridor.

“Yes, Mama.” Switching suddenly from a mature young lady to a schoolgirl, Sarah skipped out, grinning, and said, “I know who sent the flowers.”

“There is a reason I have made all of you wait until you are eighteen to come out.” Mama shook her head and closed the door. “Well?”

“I believe it was Lord Throughgood.” Meg placed the book carefully back on the shelf. “I based that on the livery colors.”

“Who was it that told you the colors?” Her mother’s tone was only mildly curious.

“The new footman, Jimmy. He said he saw the bouquet delivered.”

“Did he indeed? That is interesting.” Before Meg could ask what was so out of the ordinary, Mama continued. “I received a visit from Mrs. Hiller today. She and Amanda have been invited to Lady Bellamny’s house party over Christmas. We received an invitation as well, but, as you know, I do not like to leave the younger children. However, Mrs. Hiller suggested that you be allowed to accompany them, and I agreed. Do you wish to attend?”

Meg wondered who else was invited, but it really did not matter. She and Amanda always managed to have a good time together, and Lady Bellamny had been a family friend for more years than Meg had been alive. “I would love to.”

“Good, it is settled then. We will leave Town in a few days. I suggest you finish any shopping you wish to do.” Mama moved to the shelf where Meg had placed their most recent copy of
Debrett’s
. “You may go now. Take the town coach. It looks like rain.”

At first Meg wondered what her mother was looking for, but it was probably to glean more information about Lord Throughgood. His line of the family had recently come into the title, and he was, after all, her chosen mate, not that Mama knew of Meg’s decision.

 

Shortly before tea, Lucinda entered the library to find Helena studying a large tome. “What are you looking for, dear?”

“Liveries in blue and red.” She raised her head, a slight line creasing her brow. “There are quite a lot of them.”

“Yes, but how many are in Town? That is the question.”

Her attention was drawn back to the book.

“What is the significance of the livery?”

“Jimmy,” Helena answered distractedly, “our youngest footman, told Meg the flowers were delivered by a footman wearing blue and green. But he is forever mixing up red and green. The other day I asked him to bring down some green embroidery thread. My dresser showed him where the basket was, and he brought the wrong color.”

Lucinda sat on a chair at the table. “Was there no card?”

“It was not signed.” Her daughter-in-law looked up. “Poor Meg has had such bad luck in suitors, I am concerned.”

“As you should be, my dear.” Lucinda closed her eyes as she pictured the liveries of all the great houses. “Somerset uses red and blue.” And his son, Hawksworth, was in Town. “Have you found anyone else?”

“Several, but no one who would send Meg flowers.” Suddenly Helena fixed her bright blue gaze on Lucinda. “Tell me you are not matchmaking again.”

Lucinda held up her hands with her palms out. “Of course not, my dear. If indeed Hawksworth is interested in Meg, that would be a very good match.” Lucinda rose. “His life is an open book.” At least to those who made it their business to know. “I merely came by to tell you that I will join you at Granby Abbey before traveling on to a house party I have been invited to, and wished to know if you would mind if I brought a guest with me.”

The dower house at Granby was still occupied by a great-aunt of Lucinda’s late husband. Not wanting to remove the lady, and at the invitation of her son and daughter-in-law, Lucinda had an apartment in one wing of the main house.

“Of course not.” Helena smiled warmly. “It is still your home. Forgive me for being so quick to accuse you of matchmaking.”

Lucinda leaned down and bussed her daughter-in-law’s cheek. “I thank you for that. I know a great deal about Hawksworth. He is Almeria Bellamny’s godson. She would have told me if there is anything amiss with him.”

“Thank you,” Helena said. “I shall keep that in mind. At the moment, though, Meg must allow her heart to mend. It is too soon to think about another match.”

Lucinda left the library and climbed the stairs to her chambers. So, Hawksworth had decided to distract Meg with a puzzle. Lucinda paused for a moment. Yet who, she wondered, did Meg think the flowers were from? This could turn out to be a very interesting Christmas indeed.

 

Later that afternoon, Chuffy entered his rooms on Jermyn Street to find a stack of cards that his valet, Manning, had sorted by the type of entertainment. Most of them were for balls, several for house parties, but one was from Mrs. Hiller, inviting him to join the family for dinner the next evening.

He smiled to himself, pleased to have such an indication of success. After having spent two years traveling in countries where most of the ladies had dark hair and eyes, he had immediately been drawn to Miss Hiller’s fair and purely English appearance. With her light blond hair and pale blue eyes, as well as a perfectly creamy complexion, she was his ideal of a beautiful woman. During their dance, he had been enchanted by her slight shyness, and later by her common sense. Granted, it was early days, but he was fairly certain she was the type of lady he was looking to wed. He would know more after their carriage ride in the Park to-day and dinner the next evening. If he could manage to stand up with her at the party to-night, that would be even better.

Forty minutes later, he pulled his pair of matched grays to a halt outside of the Hiller town house. As he ascended the steps, the butler opened the door and bowed. “Lord Throughgood?”

For a moment Chuffy wondered what the servant would say if he said no, but those days of foolishness were behind him. “I am. Is Miss Hiller available?”

“I shall send word that you have arrived.” He spoke softly to a footman, who scurried up the stairs.

All in all a well-run household, Chuffy thought. Much different than his father’s, which was inclined to have a number of servants Papa had brought with him from abroad, some of whom did not speak the same language and believed in relaying messages in the loudest voice possible. Those were mixed in with old retainers who disapproved of the foreign servants’ behaviors and lack of English manners. In short, most of the time the staff was involved in full-out war. Chuffy wondered how Miss Hiller would like his family’s new home, and what she would make of the disorder that ruled there.

As he was finishing the thought, his attention was drawn to her, standing on the top step of the main staircase. Her hand was on the rail. She smiled and wiggled her fingers at him. As she squinted down at the next tread, he surged forward, taking the stairs two at a time, catching her just as her foot missed the step. “Are you all right?”

She sucked in a shaky breath and nodded. “I do not normally remove my hand from the rail.”

Using a funning tone, he said, “You should wear your glasses.”

She wrinkled her adorable nose. “But they make one appear so ugly.”

Where ladies got that idea he had not a clue. “I don’t think so at all. I find spectacles enhance the eyes.”

“Do you truly?” Her own eyes grew wide.

“Of course. I wouldn’t have said so otherwise. Have you a pair?” He fervently hoped she did. So much was lost without the ability to see. Although it was his considered opinion that his brother-in-law had most likely benefited from his eldest sister refusing to wear hers. He wasn’t the handsomest of men.

A clear pink blush rose in her cheeks. “Yes, yet I never go out with them on.”

“But you must. I shall enjoy your eyes, and you will enjoy seeing things better. I’ll wait here while you fetch them.” He glanced around, spying a footman. “Better yet, send for them. We may remain here and chat until they arrive.”

“Very well.” She gave him a grateful smile.

He nodded to the servant, who set off smartly down the corridor.

“What is all this?” A gentleman who must be Mr. Hiller said from the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh, Papa. Lord Throughgood kept me from falling, and now I am waiting for my eyeglasses.” She blushed again. “I am truly a pea-goose. My lord, please meet my father, Mr. Hiller. Papa, this is Viscount Throughgood. We are going for a ride in the Park.”

“Pleased to meet you, my lord.” Mr. Hiller nodded and Chuffy did the same, not letting go of the man’s daughter. “Glad she’s finally decided to wear her glasses. Keeps bumping into things without them.”

Miss Hiller’s blush deepened to a lovely rose.
“Papa!”

“It is amazing,” Chuffy said in a low tone, “how easily one’s parents are able to embarrass one and without even trying.” Situated one step down from her, he was distracted by her very fine bosom, which rose as she took a breath.

“I am so glad you understand.”

“None better. My father was a diplomat, but tactfulness did not extend to his family. Plain speaking is what he prefers with us less fortunate beings.”

Her spectacles arrived and soon a pretty pair of gold-rimmed glasses adorned her upturned nose. He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

Miss Hiller’s smile was as warm as a summer day. “I would like that very much.”

He escorted her down the stairs and out to his phaeton. He helped her up to the seat before going around to the other side. Several minutes later they were entering the Park. “Is it always so crowded?”

“Do you not know?” She laughed lightly. “I would have thought you had been here often.”

“Ah, I am recently returned from abroad. I went directly to my father’s estate before coming to Town.”

“I hadn’t realized you had just arrived.” Her finely arched brows drew together. “How strange this must be for you after seeing foreign countries. Did you miss England?”