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Authors: Adrienne Basso

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Tis the Season to Be Sinful (17 page)

BOOK: Tis the Season to Be Sinful
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“I understand.” She waved away his excuse. “But you won’t be working every minute. Mr. Dixon will need to be entertained. Everyone enjoys preparing for the holiday; these activities often include children and adults.”
Her expression was so eager, so hopeful, Richard couldn’t bear to see it crushed. “Perhaps there will be an opportunity to spend some time with the children,” he offered.
“You will join in on the Christmas preparations?”
“As much as possible.”
It was a lie. He had no intention of being surrounded by merry guests and scampering, playful children. Especially Juliet’s scampering children. How could he?
Avoiding them was the best solution. Why, already there were moments when being around Lizzy brought on a rush of emotion. Feelings that were gentle, protective, and completely terrifying. He didn’t understand it, couldn’t adequately explain it; all he did know was that they needed to be firmly pushed down into the deep, dark recesses of his heart.
A footman entered, carrying a tray laden with hot food and a fresh pot of coffee. Richard sat in the chair next to his wife and allowed Juliet to fuss over making him a plate of food, hoping their discussion was at an end. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on without blurting out part of his painful past and disgracing himself with unmanly emotions.
“I’m uncertain exactly when the Dixons will be arriving,” he said as he slathered a thick slab of butter on his hot toast. “That is assuming he will even accept my invitation.”
“Who have you invited?” a masculine voice inquired. “Some luscious, amusing female, I hope. Naturally, you know that would make the ideal Christmas gift for me.”
Juliet laughed. From the corner of his eye, Richard saw the man who had spoken enter the room. George? Really? At this hour of the morning? Richard removed his watch from his vest pocket, consulting it with a frown.
“Do close your mouth, Richard,” George drawled as he eased himself into a chair at the cozy table. “You are going to start catching flies if you keep it open that wide.”
“You must forgive my shock,” Richard replied. “The only time I ever see you at this hour of the morning is when you are coming in after a night on the town.”
“I know. Extraordinary, isn’t it?” George took a sip of the coffee Juliet poured for him and smiled. “I awoke as the dawn was breaking this morning, with a clear head and a ferocious appetite. I vow the country air does ridiculous things to my constitution.”
“As well as your brain,” Richard muttered sarcastically.
George took another long sip of his coffee and glared at Richard. “Why aren’t you locked in your study busily poring over your papers?”
“I’m taking the day off,” Richard announced.
“Truly?” The delight in Juliet’s eyes was instant and overpowering. Richard swallowed hard.
“And Miss Hardie? Is she also at leisure today?” George asked, attempting to appear casual and failing miserably.
Juliet gave Richard’s forearm a subtle nudge. Richard narrowed his eyes, recalling his promise to her to speak with George about his secretary. “Miss Hardie does indeed have the day off, but that does not give you leave to pester her. Now, we have already—”
“Yes, yes,” George interrupted, raising his hand in supplication. “No need for an additional lecture on the subject. You’ve made your feelings about my infatuation with the delectable Miss Hardie very clear. I shall strive to behave. It is, after all, Christmas.”
Juliet smiled sweetly. “You must do more than strive, my lord. You must promise. On your honor.”
A corner of George’s mouth lifted slightly. He turned toward Richard for support, but Richard merely shrugged, his enjoyment over his friend’s discomfort obvious. “I promise that I shall not distress Miss Hardie.” George exhaled loudly. “Tell me, Richard, if you aren’t working, what will you be doing?”
Spending the day in bed with my wife.
Richard released the pent-up air in his lungs, disappointed that was not the case. Though perhaps later in the day . . . “Juliet is going to take me on a tour of the manor. I haven’t had an opportunity to view all of the renovations,” he finally answered.
A gleam lit George’s eyes. “That sounds most interesting.”
“Would you like to come along?” Juliet asked politely.
George’s expression brightened. Richard longed to reach over and jab him sharply in the ribs, but knew he had to be more subtle. He shifted in his seat, moving his hand across the table. With a quick flick of his wrist, Richard upended George’s coffee cup. Streams of dark liquid quickly spread across the white linen cloth.
“Oh, sorry. That was rather clumsy of me,” Richard said as George leaped from his chair with a yelp to avoid the river of steaming liquid.
“My goodness, Richard, what a mess,” Juliet exclaimed. She, too, rose from her seat, hurrying out of the room to fetch a servant.
Pleased with the result, Richard turned with a smug grin toward a bristling George.
“Bloody hell, Richard, give me some credit. I wasn’t going to accept her invitation,” George protested as he swiped at the spilled coffee.
“I had to make certain,” Richard said unapologetically.
“I thought married people didn’t need an excuse to be alone together,” George grumbled. “And might I add that if I wanted to see a gentleman casting hungry looks at his wife and quaking with eagerness whenever she is near, I would have spent the holidays with my lovelorn brother Lawrence and his wife.”
Hungry looks? Richard grimaced. Was he truly that obvious?
Juliet returned with a parade of servants behind her. A clearly irritated George plopped back in his seat. Fresh coddled eggs, sweet rolls, kippers, and toast appeared with the clean linens, and they were all soon back to eating breakfast.
“After luncheon I plan to organize an outing to gather holiday greenery,” Juliet announced. “I hope you both will come along.”
“Isn’t that something the servants do?” Richard asked, hardly enthralled with the notion.
“Servants?” Juliet seemed deeply offended by the suggestion. “This is meant to be fun, Richard, not a chore.”
“Oh.”
“I, for one, will be delighted to go,” George answered. “But isn’t it too early for Christmas greenery and decorating?”
Juliet shook her head. “We won’t do everything. We can gather the evergreens for the garlands, but not all of them will be hung. Naturally, the tree will be erected on Christmas Eve, so it shouldn’t be cut until then, but it will be fun to select it today. The holly, mistletoe, ribbons, and such can be put up now, along with some of the garlands. I want the Dixons to feel the Christmas spirit the moment they walk through the front door. Who knows, that could improve the chances of a business success.”
“Egad, the Dixons.” George clucked his disapproval. “Don’t tell me that windbag is coming for the holidays?”
“They won’t be staying long,” Richard answered, pleased that Juliet was willing to make such an effort on his behalf.
“I suppose this means you are still pursuing him like a fox after a hen,” George said, not bothering to disguise his sarcasm.
“I need his influence,” Richard insisted.
“You don’t,” George countered, his tone revealing his weariness over this long-standing disagreement. “And I can’t understand why you refuse to believe me.”
“You know Mr. Dixon, Lord George?” Juliet asked.
“I do. Or more precisely he knows me. We have a mutual disrespect and dislike of each other.” George wiped the corners of his mouth with his linen napkin. “It’s very civilized.”
“Not always,” Richard quipped.
“Yes, well, that’s hardly an appropriate conversation to be conducted in the presence of a lady,” George said hastily. “I shall be on my best behavior when in his company, all the while fervently praying the Dixons’ visit will be of short duration.”
Richard snorted. George on his best behavior? Lord help them all. “And there is to be no flirting with Mrs. Dixon either.”
George rolled his eyes. “No Miss Hardie, no Mrs. Dixon. This is fast becoming a very depressing holiday for me.”
Richard looked at Juliet and they both burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” James’s eager voice cut through the room.
Richard stiffened instinctively, relieved Juliet’s head was turned so she missed his involuntary grimace.
“Grown-up things,” Juliet answered, catching the boy in her arms and giving him a hug. “Why aren’t you in the schoolroom doing your lessons with your tutor? And where is Mrs. Bickford?”
James gave his mother a noncommittal shrug, and then reached for a slice of toast. Richard’s eyes traveled to the doorway, knowing James rarely went anywhere on his own. Sure enough, not ten seconds later Edward and Lizzy also appeared. The little girl rushed to her mother, burrowing close, hiding her face against Juliet’s shoulder.
“Feeling a tad shy this morning, Miss Lizzy?” George teased. “Can’t say that I blame you. Mornings filled with sunshine always make one feel as though they should hide from the world.”
Lizzy’s head popped up and she giggled. “You’re silly,” she declared.
Richard smiled. “Only four years old and she’s already on to you, George.”
“Superior intelligence.” George sniffed. “Like her mother.”
“I know.” Richard’s eyes met Juliet’s. “Lizzy is a very clever girl. I have no doubt she was the one who devised the plan that enabled all three of the children to escape from their lessons this morning.”
Juliet’s eyes widened, but she said nothing. James shook his head vigorously. “It wasn’t Lizzy, it wa—”
“Nobody!” Edward snapped, his face pink. “Our tutor gave us the morning off.”
Richard quirked a disbelieving brow.
“Well, he would have, if we’d asked him,” Edward muttered defensively.
“Then do so,” Richard instructed.
“I’ll go,” James volunteered cheerfully, running toward the door, leaving a trail of bread crumbs as he chomped on the last of his toast.
“Wait!” Edward cried, but his brother had already disappeared.
“Problem?” Richard inquired.
Edward made a disgusted noise. “Our tutor might say no, and then we’ll have to continue with our lessons.”
“Very possible.” Richard tossed his napkin on the table.
Edward stared at him, resentment in his gaze, his mouth thinned.
Lizzy lifted a mischievously smiling face toward her brother. “I don’t have to do lessons. I’m too little.”
“But you are not too young to apologize to Mrs. Bickford for hiding from her,” Juliet said firmly. “Excuse us, gentlemen.” She took Lizzy by the hand, then motioned to Edward. Sullen-faced, the boy followed his mother and sister from the room.
Richard poured fresh, hot coffee into his cup, trying to ignore the astonishment hardening George’s face. “Is there something you’d like to say, George?”
The other man’s lips went taut. “I’m still trying to understand what I just witnessed,” he confessed.
Nonchalant, Richard raised his chin. “Juliet wants me to become more involved with her children.”
“A splendid idea.” George’s jaw muscle rippled and tensed, and then he turned to Richard. “However, if you are willing to listen to some advice from an old friend, making an enemy of them isn’t really the wisest approach.”
Chapter 10
By the time Juliet arrived back in the morning room a half hour later, Lord George was gone. Richard, who was perusing the newspaper, hastened to his feet at her entrance, his expression all politeness.
“Is everything settled with the children?” he asked.
What a loaded question! The boys had been peevish over their tutor’s displeasure, Mrs. Bickford had been frantic over the missing Lizzy, and Juliet was annoyed at the lot of them. Yet knowing at times her emotions could be far too easy to read, Juliet feigned a congenial smile. “Lizzy is with Mrs. Bickford, and the boys will finish their morning lessons and be ready to join in the afternoon festivities.”
Richard sent her a smile that was full of charm. “Excellent. Shall we begin that tour you promised me?”
Juliet found herself staring at his mouth. The abrupt, unsatisfying ending to their evening last night had left her feeling restless and edgy. His sensual, male gaze and low, husky voice weren’t helping much either, reminding her all too vividly of how easily he could turn her insensible with his kisses.
“Juliet?”
A blush rose, inflaming her cheeks. What was the matter with her? Was she incapable of thinking of anything else when she was near her handsome, mysterious husband? “Right this way,” she replied, grateful he was unable to read her mind.
She took his proffered arm, feeling the hard muscles flex under her fingertips. Ignoring the strange things the contact did to her pulse, Juliet guided Richard to the rooms where the renovations were completed. Her agitated mood soon gave way to excitement of a different kind when she beheld the honest appreciation on his face.
Though Juliet had consulted with Richard through her letters on most of the changes, it was very rewarding to observe Richard’s reactions as he viewed her efforts. More than once she felt a twinge of smugness when she saw firsthand how thoroughly she had impressed him, and she admitted to herself that proving her worth and abilities to him had become very important.
“A miniature version of a study?” Richard asked when they entered a small room tucked in the back corner of the house.
“My experimental room,” Juliet clarified as Richard ran his fingers over the intricate wood trim that decorated the window frames. “I was going to use this design for your office, but as the craftsman started fashioning the woodwork, I thought it might be a bit too fussy for your taste.”
“It certainly makes an impact,” Richard acknowledged.
He gazed at the room, his expression serious. Juliet also looked around, taking in the various details—the green marble fireplace, mahogany wainscoting, and crown molding all stained a deep hue. The rug was gold, with hints of green, the chairs grouped around the antique desk. Richard opened the drapery a tad wider, revealing a picturesque view of the winter garden.
The sunlight caught in his hair, making the streaks of silver at his temples glisten. The locks curled a little around the edge of his collar, and Juliet had the most absurd need to reach up and wrap one around her finger.
She nearly sighed. Richard’s masculine presence seemed to dwarf the already small room. He looked infernally handsome this morning in his suit, the dark color somehow enhancing the blue in his eyes.
Suddenly aware that she was staring at him like a love-struck schoolgirl, Juliet cleared her throat. “Would you like me to redesign your study in a similar decor?”
“I prefer my office in its current state,” Richard answered.
Juliet nodded, pleased she had made the correct decision not to redecorate, yet all the while wondering how she could understand some things about her husband so easily and be nearly clueless on others.
“I think this will serve as the perfect retreat for Edward when he gets older,” Juliet remarked as she leaned over the desk and picked up a sheet of blank paper, adding it to the ones already in her hand.
“May I ask what you’ve been writing?” Richard inquired.
“I thought this would be a good opportunity to make notes on how to decorate the rooms for Christmas. The color scheme has changed in so many of them, they will need fresh ideas.”
“Every room?”
“Of course. That’s why we must start gathering the greenery this afternoon. With a house full of guests, people will be everywhere. It’s important to walk into a room and find an instant reminder of the season—the smell of evergreens, the shine and sparkle of red and gold ribbons, a kissing ball of mistletoe fashioned above the doorway.”
She closed her eyes and sighed, pleasant memories invading her mind. “That’s part of what makes this time of year so extraordinary. Don’t you agree?”
He stiffened almost imperceptibly. “I have no sentimentality toward the holiday,” he confessed. “For me, it’s just another day. Albeit one where no work can get done, since most people are off celebrating. I don’t begrudge them that, I just don’t participate.”
Not participate? Truly?
He hadn’t been a part of the joy and cheer that went so seamlessly with the generosity and goodwill of the season? She found it so uplifting to receive well-wishes everywhere one went, from neighbors old and new, even from those individuals of whom one was not overly fond. No. It simply could not be that Richard had not been touched by the joys of the season.
Granted, Colonial traditions would be somewhat different, but the spirit of the holiday remained no matter where or how it was celebrated.
When she looked into Richard’s handsome face, Juliet saw her answer. He hadn’t. He’d never fully experienced the generosity of the season, never partaken of the happy fellowship. Her heart plummeted.
Although she refused to pity him, she could not fail to be moved. He seemed to keep himself apart from others by choice and was apparently content with that decision. Still, Juliet had begun to suspect that Richard was at times a lonely person.
Christmas joy was contagious, however, especially with children around. There would be no better chance than now for him to discover that being surrounded by family and friends was a gift to hold and treasure.
“Well then, this year you will see what all the fuss is about,” Juliet said, a forced cheer in her voice.
Richard stared at her with obvious skepticism. Knowing the only way to prove her point was by providing as close to a perfect Christmas holiday as she could concoct, Juliet refused to be drawn into a debate. Deciding instead to change the subject, she refocused Richard’s attentions on the manor house.
Leaving the small study, they passed through a corridor and came upon two ancient suits of armor set on either side of the base of the servants’ staircase. Richard paused, placing a hand on one, his brows raised.
“We found those in the attic,” Juliet hastily explained.
His mouth twitched. “I’m very glad to hear that I didn’t pay for these scowling monstrosities.”
“I thought it might be amusing to place them in the portrait gallery, but then I caught James trying to hide inside one so he could scare Edward. That’s when I knew I had to remove them to a less conspicuous location.”
“Returning them to the attic is one possibility.”
Juliet’s brow wrinkled at the gibe. “Where they would once again languish in obscurity? Oh, no. I will have you know that these aren’t merely ornamental. While going through a stack of papers, I discovered the original bill of sale. They were bought when the manor house was built over a hundred years ago. The antique dealer who supplied them documented that the armor was made in the thirteenth century for a knight to use in battle.”
“They are in far too good condition to have gone to war.” Richard lifted the helmet visor and peered inside. “Maybe we can give them to George as a Christmas present.”
Juliet laughed, imagining Lord George’s expression on Christmas morning. “I’m afraid the boys would be heartbroken to lose them. Especially James.”
“Ah, well, we mustn’t let that happen.” Richard answered readily enough, but Juliet detected the false heartiness in his tone.
She refused to let it worry her. The little voice in the back of her head warned her it might not be that simple to get Richard to care about her children, to accept being an integral part of their family. She would need every ounce of her persuasive abilities and patience to show him the kind of future they could have together.
And show him she would. It was past time her husband realized that life for him was never again going to be the same.
The cold wind took Richard’s breath away as he stepped into the courtyard to join the group gathering together for the afternoon outing. There was a sizable number of adults milling about and a smaller number of noisy, shrieking children darting around, playing a game that resembled tag, but apparently required voices raised to an excessively loud volume.
As he scanned the boisterous group, Richard could feel a throbbing starting behind his eyes. He debated returning to the house, knowing he could use the excuse of work to escape the impending madness, but the sight of Juliet stopped him. Dressed in a sapphire blue coat with a fur-trimmed collar and matching blue bonnet, she was in the center of it all, laughing and chatting with the adults.
The sight dazzled him. He wished he could take her hand and lead her away, keeping her all to himself for the entire afternoon. But the very idea of being able to spirit Juliet off without anyone noticing was simply impossible.
Pity.
“Your grim expression lets one and all know that you’d rather be anywhere else on earth,” George remarked as he came to Richard’s side. “This is supposed to be fun, you know.”
“For whom?” Richard snorted. “I still don’t understand why the servants aren’t sent to do this task. How well can it be accomplished by a bunch of women and children?”
“There are a few gentlemen along.” George huffed with exaggerated indignity, flexing his arm muscles. “And the servants follow with carts. They do all the heavy lifting and bring all of our bounty back to the manor. It’s all very civilized, I assure you. Now just shut up and try to enjoy yourself.”
“It still feels like a ridiculous outing,” Richard grumbled. “It reminds me of my history books, reading about that French queen who would dress up as a dairymaid and play at being a farm girl.”
“Marie Antoinette? What an absurd analogy.”
“Indeed. And just look how well things turned out for her in the end.”
George’s face filled with exaggerated horror. “Only you, dear Richard, could liken a holiday outing to having one’s head chopped off.”
“It does feel like I’ve agreed to attend my own execution.” Richard frowned as James and another boy ran screeching past them. “Are they always this loud?”
“How the deuce should I know? I don’t have any children.”
Shaking his head, George walked away. Richard could hardly blame him; his foul mood was certainly not in keeping with the spirit of the afternoon. Well, at least the weather had cooperated. Though cold, the sun was beaming down from a clear blue sky, the air crisp with the scent of winter.
Richard found himself near the back of the group, trying to avoid everyone’s gaze as they all started on their holiday quest. Trudging down the long sweep of lawn, he collected an impressive layer of mud on his shiny boots. A few clumps fell off while crossing over the small footbridge to the woods beyond, but the majority of the dirt remained. Edward led the way, with James close behind and a few of Juliet’s younger male cousins alongside.
The women were clustered together in the middle of the pack, though Richard clearly spotted George’s elegant beaver hat among the bonnets. It was bent toward a petite figure dressed in a black cloak, which Richard quickly concluded was Miss Hardie.
Bringing up the rear were the older gentlemen—several of Juliet’s uncles and two cousins near Richard’s own age whose names he could not recall. Their smiles were warm and friendly, but they soon fell to talking among themselves, no doubt because Richard’s off-putting manner did not invite conversation.
After what seemed like an interminably long walk, filled with excessive amounts of fresh air, the group came to a halt.
“Where should we start?” Juliet asked with a smile.
BOOK: Tis the Season to Be Sinful
13.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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