Miss Featherton's Christmas Prince (The Marriage Game Book 9) (7 page)

BOOK: Miss Featherton's Christmas Prince (The Marriage Game Book 9)
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The bottles of port and brandy had been passed around the table only once when Lord Bellamny rose. “Gentlemen, I have been given strict instructions not to keep you long. It is time we joined the ladies.”
So Damon had been right about what Lady Bellamny’s earlier look had meant. Needing no further prompting, he rose. Someday he hoped that he and Miss Featherton would come to the point where no words were needed for such communications.
Smithson quickly drained his glass and reached for the bottle, but the other gentlemen abandoned their seats, making it impossible for the man to have another drink. As it was, his nose was already red.
Sir Randolph Culpepper, the elderly man who had escorted Mrs. Smithson into dinner, grinned. “Always happy to join my lady. She makes more sense than most people I know.”
Smithson had frowned, but Damon now had another goal for his marriage. Miss Featherton was one of the most intelligent and clever people he had met. He could easily envision wishing to spend all his time with her.
Already at the dining room door, Throughgood caught Damon’s eye and waited for him. “Miss Hiller has something she wishes to say to us concerning Miss Featherton. We won’t have an opportunity before Lady Bellamny’s announcement, but afterward we should meet somewhere.”
The music room was next to the drawing room. “I hope Miss Hiller is musical, as I shall suggest to Lady Bellamny that she give us a few minutes to look over the music before she opens the connecting doors. I sincerely hope you either play or sing?”
Throughgood grinned. “I do both, but my voice is not as good as I recall yours being.” A sly expression appeared on his face. “We should discover if Miss Featherton is of a musical bent as well.”
“Excellent idea.” Throughgood and Damon began to stroll out of the dining room. “Do you know if we are the only younger guests?”
“There are four others, but they might have been held up by the weather, in which case they will not arrive until to-morrow.”
Damon nodded. The only question that interested him was whether or not that would help him with Miss Featherton. If any of the guests were single gentlemen, he would find a way to deal with them.
After the guests had gathered in the drawing room and been served tea, Lady Bellamny tapped her spoon against her cup. “We have a few more guests arriving to-morrow, but that need not stop us from visiting the local fair. I believe you will be impressed by the offerings.”
A fair sounded interesting. Shopping was an activity designed to interest females of all sorts, and there would be sufficient time for Damon to court Miss Featherton.
A few minutes later, he approached Lady Bellamny with his musical idea.
“If you can talk the young ladies into performing, I shall agree. Having never been able to carry a note myself, I will not force them.”
“Miss Hiller is willing. Perhaps if she finds some music that Miss Featherton knows, she will be able to convince her to join us. Throughgood and I shall perform as well.”
“Excellent. I’ll leave you to it. Open the doors when you are ready.”
Damon hid his smile. “I shall.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
D
amon gathered Throughgood, and thus Miss Hiller, with a glance. They left the drawing room by way of the terrace and re-entered the house through the music room.
Miss Hiller’s color was high, and she looked as if she would burst with her news.
“My love.” Throughgood drew Miss Hiller protectively into his arms. “Have you been shocked by someone? If it is Smithson, I shall ensure he is removed—”
“No, no, nothing like that, I assure you.” She focused her gaze on Damon. “Earlier this evening, I was passing Miss Featherton’s chamber. Although it would not normally occur to me to eavesdrop, I heard my name and thought she was calling me. After a few moments, it became clear that she was speaking to herself. What she said gave me an idea!” She beamed with satisfaction. “I have a scheme that will help you win Miss Featherton.”
He had been absently thumbing through the music, but at Miss Hiller’s last words, stopped. “What kind of scheme?”
“A good one.” She pressed her lips in a prim manner, reminding him of his sisters’ governess. “Do I mistake the matter, or are you still interested in courting Miss Featherton?”
“My love!” Throughgood uttered in a shocked tone. “You can’t ask a man something like that.”
“Indeed I can. I think he cares very much about her. Yet she has been hurt so badly she doesn’t believe she is able to love anyone ever again.” She gazed up at Throughgood. “And I must warn you not to—”
“Your instincts are correct, Miss Hiller,” Damon interrupted before the conversation could ramble off in other directions. “I am very much interested in Miss Featherton.”
How Miss Hiller’s smile could have become broader, he didn’t know, but it did. “I knew it. Well, she thinks that I am interested in you.” A low growl emanated from Throughgood. “Of course, I am not at all.” She took Throughgood’s hand twining her fingers with his. “But she said she will do anything to protect me from a rogue such as Lord Hawksworth.”
Damon wasn’t sure he liked what he was hearing, but... “This is what caused you to develop your plan?”
“Yes.” She said the word with all the aplomb of having made a great discovery. “She is going to save me from you by allowing you to pay her attentions.”
He found himself staring at Miss Hiller, not quite understanding how this would help him.
Fortunately, Throughgood echoed Damon’s doubts. “But how will that help Hawksworth?”
She glanced from him to Throughgood as if they were lacking in intellect. “Meg and Lord Hawksworth will have to spend a great deal of time together, and she will come to know him. Before long, she will see that he is just the right gentleman for her.”
Damon considered the idea. Be that as it may, he was not sure that in protecting Miss Hiller from him, Miss Featherton would open herself up to him. On the other hand, he didn’t have a better idea, and it might work. Lowering as it was, somehow Miss Featherton had come to the conclusion he was not to be trusted. He was not so stupid as to believe that he could succeed with her as long as she was set against him. On the other hand, Miss Hiller had a point. If he was able to spend time with Miss Featherton, he could put her mind at ease. Not immediately. That would defeat his purpose, but over the course of several days. “I think it will work. No matter her misgivings, if she believes she is saving you, she must spend time with me.”
“Precisely,” Miss Hiller said in a tone that reminded him of his tutor when he gave the correct response.
Throughgood kissed her lightly on the lips. “You are brilliant, my love.”
“I agree, Miss Hiller. Your idea is splendid.”
“Now,” Throughgood said to her, “what were you going to warn me about?”
“I had almost forgot.” She colored a little. “Meg thinks that she would like to wed a man who is undemanding and easy to please. Someone with whom she will not fall in love.”
“A dead bore,” Damon said, not at all pleased. “She would be leading him around by his nose and not enjoying it at all.”
Miss Hiller nodded. “I believe you are right. But the thing is that”—she looked at Throughgood—“she thinks Chuffy would do for her.”
Throughgood’s mouth dropped open. “I—I am almost speechless. I know I have put on some weight, but . . .” He pulled a comical face, then the full ramifications of what Miss Hiller had said seemed to dawn on him. “Good Lord. I must not be around her at all. The embarrassment she would suffer when she discovered the truth would devastate her. Amanda, cannot you tell her about us now?”
“No, my love. That would not do at all. If I did that, she would have no reason to be in Lord Hawksworth’s company.”
“Ah yes.” Throughgood grimaced. “Hawksworth, I sincerely trust you appreciate my sacrifice. I must convince my mother to change some of her plans for being here.”
Miss Hiller glanced at the door. “Now that that is settled, we had better look at the music.”
In a few short moments, they had found several pieces they all knew. Miss Hiller left by the door to the corridor to find Miss Featherton. Damon hoped Miss Hiller’s plan would work. If not, he might have worse problems with his lady than he had originally thought.
He was certain Throughgood would never fall in with Miss Featherton’s scheme. But another gentleman might very well see it as the perfect solution.
Damnation!
He had precisely fourteen days to change her mind.
 
Meg glanced at the drawing room door as it opened. Amanda looked around for a moment, then focused on Meg and beckoned. When had her friend started wearing her eyeglasses in public? Perhaps now she would discover what else had been going on. She made her way to the door, following Amanda into the corridor.
“Lord Hawksworth thought we might entertain ourselves with some music. Please join us. It will be so much fun!”
“You were in the music room with him alone!” This was much worse than Meg had thought. Anyone could have found them, and Amanda would be compromised and have to marry the man.
“No, Lord Throughgood is there as well, and the door was open. Lady Bellamny knew we were there. I would have asked you to join us immediately, but I—um, did not see you.” Amanda tugged on Meg’s hand. “Please say you will. You have a much better voice than I do. I shall accompany you.”
Meg nodded. This might be her opportunity to approach Lord Throughgood. “Very well.”
As they entered the room, Lord Hawksworth looked up and smiled. Her feet slowed as the full force of his charm hit her. No man had a right to be so handsome. Something should be wrong with him, but he even seemed to have a full set of white teeth. No wonder Amanda was smitten.
“Excellent.” He set down the sheet of music he had been holding. “I am delighted you wished to join us, Miss Featherton.”
Wished
was not precisely the word she would have used. Forced to defend her friend would be more accurate. “Right, then,” she said, determined not to respond to his allure. “What do we have?”
“Yes, thank you for joining us.” Throughgood jumped into the conversation. “There is a duet here that Miss Hiller thinks would be just the thing.”
Lord Hawksworth handed Meg the sheet he had been holding. While she glanced over the music, he slid open the doors to the drawing room. Now that was an intriguing arrangement. Paneled as they were, they had appeared to be part of the wall.
In the other room, Lady Bellamny rose and began motioning the others toward the music room. “Marvelous. The young people are going to sing for us.”
When he returned, Meg handed him the words to “Barbara Allan,” an old folk song that most everyone should know. “What about this one?”
“It will do. You begin and I shall join in on the second verse.”
Amanda and Lord Throughgood took their places at the piano, and they waited until Lady Bellamny signaled for them to begin.
Amanda played the introduction, then Meg began to sing.
“It was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves were a falling,
That Sir John Graeme in the West Country
Fell in love with Barbara Allan.
He sent his man down through the town,
To the place where she was dwelling:
‘O haste and come to my master dear,
Gin ye be Barbara Allan.’ ”
Lord Hawksworth joined her. His strong baritone harmonized easily with her contralto. It had been so long since Meg had sung a duet with anyone. Neither of her last two suitors had enjoyed singing, and she was of an age where it was no longer required of her.
“O holy, holy rose she up,
To the place where he was lying,
And when she drew the curtain by,
‘Young man, I think you’re dying.’
‘O I’m sick, and very, very sick,
And ’tis all for Barbara Allan.’ ”
When they came to the last verse, he stopped singing as she began the lament. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of the young woman dying after having rejected love.
“It cried, Woe to Barbara Allan!
‘O mother, mother make my bed!
O make it soft and narrow!
Since my love died for me to-day,
I’ll die for him to-morrow.’ ”
As she finished, Lady Culpepper dabbed her eyes. “I always think it is such a sad song, but you did it beautifully, Miss Featherton. You as well, Lord Hawksworth. I do not think I have heard it sung with more feeling.”
“Perhaps something more spritely?” Sir Randolph asked, patting his wife’s hand. “Mustn’t leave the ladies weeping.”
Amanda placed another sheet of music on the piano and Lord Hawksworth handed Meg “Child Waters,” a bawdy song that always made her blush. Yet she and Amanda had performed it many times over the years.
Lord Hawksworth glanced at the music. “That will certainly liven things up.” A wicked gleam appeared in his eyes. “Why don’t you sing Margaret’s part, and I’ll sing the other?”
“Very well,” Meg agreed, only because she had never been able to sing the last line.
He nodded to Amanda, who began to play.
Lord Hawksworth put his fists on his hips as if he were actually arguing with Meg.
“I beg you bide at home, Margaret,
And sew your silken seam;
If ye were in wide Highlands,
You would be over far from home.”
Despite how low she had been feeling lately, his playacting appealed to her. She tossed her head and laughed, getting into the part.
“I will not bide at home, she said,
Nor sew my silken seam;
For if I were in the wide Highlands,
I would not be far from home.
 
“My steed shall drink the blood-red wine,
And you the water wan;
I’ll make you sigh, and say alas
That ever I loved a man!”
At the end of the last verse she gave her head an emphatic nod. He leaned slightly toward her and jutted his chin, making her want to break out in whoops. Hawksworth was really very good at this.
“My hounds shall eat the bread of wheat,
And you the bread of bran;
I’ll make you sigh, and say, alas,
That ever you loved Lord John!”
The next part was hers, so she raised her chin, challenging him.
“Though your hounds do eat the bread of wheat,
And me the bread of bran,
Yet will I sing, and merry be,
That ever I loved Lord John.”
For the last verse, he took both her hands in one of his and gazed down at her.
“But cheer up your heart now, Fair Margaret,
For, be it as it may,
Your kirken and your fair wedding
Shall both be on one day.”
Even though he had used the Scottish word for churching, making it more acceptable, Meg could not imagine anything worse than having a child before being married. Unbidden, her face warmed, and she couldn’t stop herself from blushing. Then she began to laugh, and he chuckled.
Everyone in the room joined them. Hawksworth bowed, while she curtseyed. Someone called for another song, but Lady Bellamny rose. “It has been a long day for many of us. We shall have other evenings to enjoy the talents of our guests.”
She led the others back into the drawing room, while Amanda, Lord Throughgood, Lord Hawksworth, and Meg put away the music.
Glancing at Lord Throughgood, who was speaking with Amanda, Meg decided to speak with him and present her proposal. One way or the other, she wanted the matter to be settled. If he did not wish to marry her, she would make a list of gentlemen who would probably agree to her conditions. Some of the happiness she’d felt while she was singing leached away as she edged her way around the piano. She stiffened her spine. Better marriage with someone who was nice, than remain single. She wanted to take her place in Polite Society, and she wanted children.
“Throughgood.” Lord Hawksworth’s deep voice commanded the other man’s attention. “Introduce me to your parents, if you would. I think we might have some friends in common.”
She opened her mouth and shut it again. She could have screamed with frustration.
The misbegotten, interfering slibberslabber. Drat and blast him!
Meg made herself count to ten. In all fairness, she could not blame Hawksworth. After all, he could not have known of her plan.
For a moment, Lord Throughgood stared at Hawksworth, then he blinked. “Of course. Love to. You’ll like them. Everyone does.” He bowed to Amanda. “This evening was a pleasure. I don’t know when I’ve had such a good time of it.”
She gave him her usual shy smile. “Nor do I, my lord.”

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