'Twas the Night After Christmas (30 page)

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Authors: Sabrina Jeffries

Tags: #Romance, #Regency, #Fiction, #Historical, #General

BOOK: 'Twas the Night After Christmas
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Camilla leaped from his lap. “Oh, Lord, Maisie must have guessed I was here. Something must be wrong with Jasper!” Guilt suffusing her features, she hurried to put on her shift, then her drawers.

Swiftly, he rose and began to dress, too.

The knock came again. “Open the door, Pierce!” his mother’s voice commanded. “I wish to speak with you!”

As the blood drained from Camilla’s face, he cursed under his breath. The main rooms downstairs in the dower house had special servants’ passages, but none of the bedchambers did. There was no escape.

“I’ll be there in a moment, Mother!” he called out as he jerked his trousers on. Somehow he had to draw her away so Camilla could leave without being seen.

Camilla was still frantically gathering up her clothes and grabbing her spectacles when the door swung open, and his mother entered.

Bloody hell. He’d forgotten to latch the door.

Mother took in the scene with a look of pure horror. “I knew it!” she cried. “I went looking for Camilla, and Maisie said she’d thought she was with me. So I went to the drawing room and the study and found no trace of either of you. That’s when I knew.” Her gaze met his accusingly as Camilla stood fixed in the middle of the room. “How could you?”

“My lady, please, it’s not how it seems,” Camilla said.

“No?” she choked out. “Because it appears to me that my son has just finished seducing you.”

Pierce glared at her. “How dare you—”

“You have every reason to be angry with me, Pierce,” his mother went on fiercely. “But to use Camilla as a weapon against me is—”

“A
weapon
?” Only with an effort did he keep from tossing her bodily from his room. “Not that it’s any of your concern, Mother, but she
chose
to be here. We chose to be together.”

“A woman in Camilla’s position is unable to choose such a thing,” his mother protested. “Do you really think she could refuse you? You’re her employer, so any association of that kind between you gives you all the power, and you know it.”

He stiffened. He did know it. And the worst of it was he would do it again if he had the chance.

“You paint your son more ill than he is, my lady,” Camilla put in. “He never demanded anything of me, never took advantage. I really
did
choose to be with him. I know you probably think it very wrong of me, but—”

“I don’t blame you, my dear,” his mother told her softly, then nodded to Pierce. “I blame
him.

That was the last straw. “You have no right to blame me for anything, ever,” Pierce hissed as he advanced on her, not caring that he wore only his trousers. “You gave up the right to dictate to me when you abandoned me.”

“I did not abandon you!” Mother cried. “I acted in your own interests.”

That was a new twist, and the ludicrousness of it infuriated him. “Oh? How so?”

Her lips tightening, she glanced away and said nothing more.

His temper rose into fury as the festering sore of twenty-three years erupted. He bore down on her with ruthless intent. “Were you acting in my interests when you ignored the letters where I begged to be allowed to come home? Or when you kept me from learning how to run the estate I would one day inherit? Or even when you shattered every real feeling I ever had by telling me—”

He broke off with a curse. “I refuse to do this anymore. I don’t care what your reasons were. Nothing you say can make up for what you did.” He turned to where Camilla was watching them both, her expression clearly torn. “Camilla, go gather your things and Jasper’s. We’re leaving for London now.”

His mother turned ash white, which gave him a moment’s twinge of conscience, but he ignored it. She had no say in this. She’d given up that right years ago.

But Camilla hadn’t moved.

“Go on, dearling,” he commanded her. “I know it’s late, but you and Jasper can both sleep in the carriage. Bring Maisie, too, if you need to.”

She swallowed hard, then said, barely above a whisper, “I’m not going with you.”

He gaped at her. He couldn’t have heard her right. “Of course you are.”

“I can’t,” she said, her voice a little firmer. “My place is here.”

“Your place is with me!” he ground out.

A tear escaped her eye, then another. “Pierce, you have to understand—”

“No!” he cried as the bottom dropped out of his stomach. “Damn it, no, I don’t have to understand a bloody thing!”

She couldn’t be doing this. He wouldn’t let her.

He strode up to grab her by the arms. “You belong with me. We belong together. You owe her
nothing,
no matter what you think.”

Tears were streaming down her face now, and she clutched her pitiful bundle of clothes closer to her chest, as if to use them as a shield against him. “It’s not about your mother.”

“The hell it isn’t! You’re choosing her over me, because you’ve got some idea in your head that being at her beck and call is more respectable, more—”

“I’m not choosing either of you,” she said in a tortured whisper as she pulled free of his grip. “I’m choosing my son.”

That caught him by the throat. It was an argument he felt powerless to refute. But he tried anyway. “You know he’ll be better off in London.”

“As the scorned son of your mistress?”

He glowered at her. “No one would
dare
to scorn him, or you. Not with my power and fortune behind the two of you.”

“And after we no longer have you?” she asked softly. “What becomes of us then?”

Her logic was inescapable, and he hated her for it.

“Or what happens when you marry?”

“I will
never
marry,” he vowed.

Tears sparkled in her eyes. “You say that now, but you can’t promise it.”

He scowled. “If you want promises from me, then come with me to London. I’ll have my solicitor draw up whatever legal document you require to ensure that you—”

“It has nothing to do with money!” she cried. “I can’t risk your coming in and out of Jasper’s life at your leisure. Small children don’t understand such things. You of all people should know that.”

The words hit him like a blow to the gut, making him want to strike back. “I know that you said you love me. You
claimed
that the words were real.”

Though the blood drained from her face, she didn’t waver in her stance. “They are, and I do. Which is precisely why I can’t go with you. I love you too much to be just your toy for a while.”

“You wouldn’t be my toy, damn it!”

But he could see from her face that no argument would sway her. Once Camilla made up her mind to do something, she stayed the course, even if that course drove a stake through his heart.

How
dare
she show him heaven for one brief, glittering moment, and then snatch it away, leaving him alone once more?

Always alone.

“Fine,” he choked out, steeling himself against the hurt that rent his heart.

She thought to force him into marriage, did she? Well, the days when he could be jerked about by other people’s whims were long gone. Never again would anyone force him into doing anything.

“To hell with you.” He looked beyond her to where his mother had gone still as death. “To hell with both of you. I’m leaving this
house, and I’m not returning. So I hope you’re both very happy together. Now get out of my room.”

When they just stood there, staring hollow-eyed at him, he marched toward them. “Out, damn you!”

His mother fled at once, but Camilla paused in the doorway to glance back at him. “I know you’re angry, Pierce, and I understand why. Your parents tore a hole in your heart when they abandoned you, and you’ve been trying to mend it ever since. That’s why you’ve had a string of mistresses—not because you wanted to show your parents they hadn’t broken you but because you kept hoping to find someone who really did care about you.”

“Shut the hell up!” he cried, fighting the truth in her words as furiously as he fought to ignore the compassion on her face.

“Well, you’ve found that someone. I truly do love you. But until you put the past behind you, you won’t be free to love me or anyone else.” She hitched up the bundle of clothes in her arms. “If you’ve learned anything from your parents, it ought to be this—love works only when it’s mutual. Otherwise, eventually it becomes exactly what you call it—a meaningless word. For both parties.”

Then she walked out.

He stared blindly at the door, willing her to come back through it, to change her mind, to throw caution to the winds.

But he knew better. She would never do that. Not for
him.
No one ever did.

And it was time he stopped waiting for it.

•  •  •

Camilla stood in the countess’s sitting room as the house was thrown into an uproar. Pierce had given orders for his coach-and-four to be readied, and the entire cadre of servants had been roused to do all the myriad tasks required for a trip.

His mother wouldn’t look at Camilla, and Camilla wasn’t certain if it was embarrassment or disgust that kept her so distant.

At the moment, she didn’t care either way. She was numb from the inside out. She should have known that her heart-stopping plunge into pleasure would end like this. Anything that wonderful never lasted.

Ruthlessly, she stifled the tears that kept threatening. She refused to cry in front of her ladyship. That would come later, when she was alone. No doubt, regret would come with it, too.

But right now she didn’t regret her few stolen moments with Pierce. They would sustain her for years to come.

They would have to. Now that she knew what love was like, she didn’t want to go through it with anyone else. She didn’t think she could bear this pain more than once.

Tears threatened again, and she lifted her handkerchief to blot them before they could fall.

“Perhaps you should have gone with him,” the countess said in a ragged whisper.

The words, sounding like a dismissal, startled her. “Will it be so hard for you to endure my presence now?”

“No! Never, my dear, never. But I hate to see him go off alone.” Her ladyship seized Camilla’s hand and squeezed it. “And I hate to see you so unhappy.”

The countess’s words made Camilla want to cry even more. She squeezed her ladyship’s hand back. “I’ll be fine.”

One day perhaps. But at the moment, it didn’t feel as if she’d ever be fine again.

“I suppose you did the right thing. It wouldn’t do for Jasper—”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Camilla said firmly. It wouldn’t do for her, either. Spending her life as Pierce’s sometime lover would have drained the heart out of her.

“He shouldn’t have asked it of you,” her ladyship said. “It was very wrong of him.”

“He was just being Pierce.”

And yet . . .

She kept seeing the look of betrayal on his face. He’d been sure she would go with him, especially since she’d been foolish enough to tell him how she felt about him.

Of course, then the wretch had tried to use that against her. Anger coursed through her, and she choked it down. What else had she expected? That he would profess his undying love? She should have kept her feelings to herself.

The door burst open, and Maisie rushed in with a wide-awake Jasper in her arms. “What’s going on, milady? The poor lad woke up in a fright at all the noise.”

Lady Devonmont drew herself up, becoming her usual restrained self once more. “His lordship is leaving.”

“In the middle of the night? But why . . . what . . . ” Maisie glanced to where Camilla stood, now dressed but with her hair still down about her shoulders and her eyes teary, and Maisie’s lips tightened into a line. “I see.”

“You are not to say a word about this,” the countess commanded. “Not to anyone, do you understand?”

“Of course, milady,” Maisie said fiercely. “I would never do anything to harm you or Mrs. Stuart.”

Camilla cast the maid a grateful smile.

Sudden silence descended on the house, and her ladyship sighed. “He must be gone now.”

“Yes.” Camilla’s stomach plummeted. Oh, how would she bear it?

Jasper reached for Camilla, and she took him from Maisie. He stared up at her sleepily. “Why did his lordship go away, Mama? And why didn’t he say farewell to me?”

“I’m sure he wanted to, my dear boy,” Lady Devonmont put in, “but he was in a very big hurry. He has a lot of important matters requiring his attention in London, you know.”

Jasper stared at the countess. “Because he’s the great earl, you mean.”

“Yes, exactly,” Camilla choked out. The great earl who equated believing in love to believing in flying reindeer. Because if he believed in love, he’d have to put the past behind him, and he just couldn’t.

“But what about Christmas?” Jasper asked. “And what about Blixem? He said he’d give me Blixem when we got home, and he forgot.”

“I’ll give you Blixem,” her ladyship answered. “Don’t you worry about that.”

“And if you’ll recall,” Camilla added, “his lordship did say he wouldn’t be here for Christmas. He has to go to Waverly Farm.”

“I remember.” Jasper pouted. “I just thought he might change his mind.”

Thank heaven Pierce had left when he had. Right now Jasper was merely intrigued by the man, but many more encounters and his leaving would have hurt the boy deeply.

Rubbing his eyes, Jasper stared into her face. “Does this mean I don’t get to learn to ride a pony? His lordship said there was a Welsh pony in the stables, and I could learn to ride it.”

“And you shall.” Lady Devonmont’s voice was firm. “I’ll speak to Mr. Fowler about it tomorrow.”

“I don’t know if I want to anymore.” Jasper laid his head on Camilla’s shoulder. “It won’t be the same without his lordship. Will it, Mama?”

“No, muffin, it won’t,” she choked out.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

23

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