December Heart

by Farmer, Merry

  Mrs. Wilson met the look of friendship with the warm sort of respect that Mariah had come to expect from her. Ginny might have been willing to lower the boundaries of hierarchy a little, but Mrs. Wilson was a stickler for propriety.

  “Now, my lady, about the situation in the dairy,” Mrs. Wilson went on.

  Mariah blinked. “We have a dairy?”

  “Yes, my lady,” Mrs. Wilson said with utmost patience. “And it seems that we need to hire a new milkmaid, since the last one left to marry.”

  A dizzying rush of embarrassment at the memory of Robert running off with a milkmaid heated Mariah’s face. She didn’t suppose she would ever get over the shock of Robert’s betrayal, as happy as she was with Peter.

  “Just make sure she’s a good, honest girl,” she said, a catch in her throat.

  Mrs. Wilson looked at her oddly. It was Mariah’s luck that Mr. Snyder passed by the open door of her office at that moment.

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Wilson,” she said leaping out of her seat. “I see Mr. Snyder with the mail, and I’m…I’m expecting a letter from my mother. Everything here looks satisfactory.”

  She rushed out of the room, leaving Mrs. Wilson bewildered in her wake. It wasn’t the most dignified thing she’d ever done, but the past had a way of causing embarrassment far longer than it should, and she wasn’t up to dealing with it at the moment.

  “Is that the mail, Mr. Snyder?” She caught the butler several yards down the hall.

  Mr. Snyder turned to her, his brow raised. “Yes, my lady. I was just taking it to his lordship.”

  A thrill zipped through Mariah’s chest. “Would you mind if I took it?” she asked. Not only would the errand give her a chance to forget about milkmaids, it would further her efforts to keep a close eye on Peter and to make sure William didn’t bother him.

  “Yes, my lady.” Mr. Snyder nodded, then handed the mail over. He continued on to some other task as Mariah carried the mail across the hall to Peter.

  Peter was in his office, at his desk, frowning away at a pile of letters and papers. Mariah paused in the doorway to study him, quivering with relief at the sight of him. His face was as expressive as a canvas and ever-changing. That morning, it was careworn and lined with concern. And yet, in spite of what Victoria would say if she were looking at him, Mariah no longer thought of Peter’s serious expressions as old. Responsible, yes. Duty-bound, definitely. But not old.

  Proving her point, he glanced up and smiled when he saw her in the doorway. Years and cares rolled off him, leaving the man she was quickly coming to love.

  “This is a surprise,” he said, standing and coming around his desk to meet her.

  Mariah walked all the way into the room. When they met, Peter glanced cautiously to the door, and when it was clear they were alone, he rested a hand on her hip and leaned in for a kiss. Mariah could ignore every other care pressing down on her for kisses like that. His arms were warm and firm around her, and the scent of him made her blush with memories of their bodies joined together.

  “I missed you last night,” she said with a heavy sigh, unwilling to leave the sanctuary of his arms just yet.

  “And I missed you,” he said, stealing another kiss. “I suppose you needed your rest, though.”

  “And I guess your business was pressing.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Not as much as it could have been. I did my best to wrap it up, but Mr. Palmer went on and on. I didn’t want to be rude.” He let her go and took a step back. “What do you have here?”

  “I brought your mail,” she said with an appreciative grin.

  “Excellent.” Peter kept a hand on her waist as he escorted her to the desk. He seemed to like staying in contact with her when they were together, something she never would have imagined she’d like so much.

  He took the mail when they reached the desk and sat to shuffle through it. Mariah perched on the side of his desk, glancing at the papers that covered it.

  “Is this about the mine?” she asked.

  Peter’s brow lifted first, then he dragged his eyes away from the mail to look at her. “Yes. It’s the report Owen Llewellyn put together after his initial survey of the estate.”

  “What does it say?”

  He blinked. “You really want to know?”

  “Of course,” she laughed, then stood and pivoted to stand beside his chair, where she could have a better view of the papers. “They’re our mines, after all.”

  His answering smile was both endearing and perplexing. “That’s true, they are.”

  “Then what’s that look for?”

  He chuckled. “I never would have expected my wife to be interested in mines and ore and surveyor’s reports.”

  Her mouth twitched, and she wasn’t sure whether it was with amusement or offense. “You mean Anne was never interested.”

  He lost some of his amusement and nodded. “No, she wasn’t. But neither was my mother.”

  Mariah rested a hand on her hip and stared at him. “You know I’m not Anne, right?”

  “I know.” He turned his gaze back to the papers, picking one up uselessly and putting it down again.

  Mariah put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not, Peter.”

  “I never said you were.” He glanced up and met her eyes. Mariah had the impression he was trying to prove the sincerity of his words with the look, but she saw more vulnerability in their blue depths than he probably intended.

  She cleared her throat and turned back to the desk. “So what do these reports say?”

  A ghost of a grin twitched at the corner of Peter’s lips, and he shifted to sit straight in his chair. Clearly, he knew she was changing the subject. “There are two reports. One is an assessment of how much copper is left in the Carleen mine. Short answer, not enough to justify the expense of keeping it open. The other is an initial report of possible locations of ore deposits across the estate, though it is only an amateur assessment done by one of my newer mine foremen.”

  Mariah wasn’t sure what she was looking at, but she’d been paying attention enough in the past few weeks to interpret the low numbers on the report about the Carleen mine. “That doesn’t look good.”

  “No,” Peter said, rubbing the bottom half of his face. “It’s not.”

  “But this one….” She picked up the letter from the surveyor. “So there are potential copper deposits on your property?”

  “There are,” Peter sighed. “But none of them look to be substantial enough to keep production at the level it is now.”

  “And that’s important.” Mariah looked for a place to sit down so that she could study the information in front of her.

  Peter must have understood what she was looking for. He hooked an arm around her waist and drew her to sit on the chair between his legs. Mariah couldn’t help but giggle at the gesture, or at the way he breathed in as if smelling her hair. Any minute, she expected to feel the stir of something hard against her backside, given the way she was wedged against him.

  To her surprise, Peter cleared his throat and picked up a ledger from the side of the desk. “These are reports of production from Carleen and all of the other, smaller mines on the property for the past few years. But they also show the amounts that have been paid out in wages to the men who work the mines.”

  He spread the ledger open on top of the rest of the papers and let Mariah leaf through it. His hand rested on her waist, but the excitement that had her heart beating faster wasn’t for their physical closeness. He was trusting her with the business of the estate. As far as she was concerned, that was as intimate as burying himself within her.

  “Good gracious. You employ more than a hundred men?” She twisted to look at him.

  “Far more,” he said. “This is only part of what makes up the estate. Aside from the mines, we have quite a few tenant farmers.”

  “And they’re your responsibility.” She nodded, glancing back to the ledgers. “Do you pay them a fixed wage or is it dependent on production
from the mines?”

  “It’s a fixed wage, but I try to increase it from year-to-year.” He paused, leaning to the side to get a better look at her. “Are you certain you want to know about all this?”

  “Yes,” she answered emphatically. “This is what you care about. I want to be a part of all of this.”

  The smile that lit his face was deeper than anything Mariah could have expected. “No one, not even William, has been interested in poring over all this with me before.”

  “What about your brother, William’s father?”

  Peter shrugged. “He was as involved as he needed to be when he thought there was a chance he might inherit. He didn’t enjoy it, though.”

  “And do you?”

  His smile grew. “I enjoy knowing that the land that has been in my family for generations provides for the families who depend on it. And I worry for their welfare, if the mines should be forced to close permanently or….”

  “Or if William inherits,” she finished for him.

  He nodded, resting his forehead against the side of her head with a sigh.

  “Don’t worry.” She squeezed his thigh. “We’re not about to let that happen.”

  As expected, she felt the stir of his arousal against her backside. How she’d missed him the night before! She giggled and made a show of turning back to the ledgers, and wriggling against him.

  “Now.” She cleared her throat. “Explain to me everything about how mines work. I want to know it all.”

  “Yes, my lady,” he said, resting a hand over her belly.

  The gesture was both teasing and heartbreaking, considering what he could be thinking by holding her that way. Mariah did her best to focus as Peter launched into an explanation of the basics of finding and extracting copper ore, how it was brought to market, and what prices had been recently. Mariah was highly conscious of the heat and power of his body around hers, but as his explanation continued, they both became more interested in the lesson than in dallying. It was as much of a surprise to Mariah as it was a delight. She already knew they were compatible on a sensual level. It was wonderful to discover that they also got along when business was on the table.

  “So the estate isn’t precisely in danger if more copper is not found,” she concluded half an hour later, skimming through a page of the ledger, “but it would mean completely changing the economic focus of everyone who depends on us.”

  “Yes.” Peter nodded, then kissed her shoulder. Mariah grinned. “And the way grand estates like this one have been faring recently, I’m afraid it would only be a matter of time before we would have to stop employing so many people and start turning over the land for public use.”

  “Selling, you mean.”

  He shrugged. “It’s been happening all across the nation.”

  “But you wouldn’t let Starcross Castle and its estate be broken up.”

  “Not if I can help it, but—”

  “Uncle, I’ve had an idea.”

  Mariah felt as though ice water had been dumped over her as Lord William strode into the room without warning, a ledger of some sort in his hands. There wasn’t enough time for her to extract herself from Peter’s embrace or his chair, and as soon as William spotted them sitting together, his eyes flashed with fury.

  “What is she doing here?”

  Mariah rose as fast as she could and stepped to the side. She tried not to look at Peter, but wondered if they’d blundered too badly to recover the illusion of indifference to each other.

  “Mariah brought me the day’s mail,” Peter said, his voice clipped. He stood as well. “What do you want?”

  Mariah peeked at William, assessing whether she needed to find a way to deflect his suspicions. There didn’t seem to be anything to do, though, especially when William glanced at the front of Peter’s trousers and narrowed his eyes.

  Peter cleared his throat, color splashing his face. “What do you want, William?” he repeated.

  “I’ve been looking at the reports from the tenant farms,” William said, approaching the desk with a look of calculation. “I think I’ve discovered a way to make them more productive.”

  “Why?” Peter asked.

  William studied him for a few more seconds, sending an assessing glance to Mariah, then relaxed into a wry smirk. “You told me to solve my problems on my own, so I am.”

  “I don’t understand,” Peter said.

  Mariah stepped to the side, glancing to the door and wondering if she should leave. She caught a quick glance from Peter that told her to stay where she was.

  “I’m still the heir,” William said, glancing suspiciously between Peter and Mariah. “For the time being,” he muttered. “And in that capacity, I have decided that I should take more of an active role in running the estate.”

  Peter squared his shoulders, an expression of grave severity turning his face to stone. “Running the estate or finding ways to skim off the top to pay your debts?”

  “Uncle, how could you suggest that I would do such a thing?” William balked, but he wasn’t quick enough to hide his frustration. That told Mariah that Peter’s guess had been correct. “Now,” he went on, “tell your pretty little wife to go play with her dolls somewhere so that the grown-ups can talk business.”

  Anger rose up in Mariah so fast that she grew dizzy. “How dare you?” she demanded.

  Peter raised a hand to her, warning her to keep calm. “Mariah stays if she wants to,” he said.

  William’s whole body tensed, and his frown turned bitter. “So that’s the way it is, is it? You’re tossing me over for a bit of skirt?”

  “I am not now, nor will I ever toss you over, out, or under anything, William.” Peter took a small step toward her. “Mariah has every right to have a say in the running of the estate. It is her home now.”

  William gaped in outrage. He recovered quickly, though, huffing in indignation and rolling his eyes. “I see. Her house and not mine. Not your own flesh and blood, to whom you made a promise.”

  Peter sighed. “I did make a promise, William, and I will keep it. You would do well to start some sort of enterprise on your own to pay your creditors.”

  “I don’t have time—” William paused, face red, then let out a breath. His expression shifted quickly from anger to calculation. “Fine, then. You force my hand.” He cleared his throat. “Is this what you promised her in order to get her into your bed? A piece of the pie?”

  “How dare you insinuate that Peter has to coerce me into intimacy,” Mariah snapped. It would have been wiser to bite her tongue, seeing as William’s attempt to bait her was so obvious, but she was tired of the young man’s implications, tired of pretending her marriage was a sham, and tired of not knowing what was really going on. “Why don’t you just say what you’re after so that we can all move on with our lives?”

  “Mariah.” Peter frowned, warning more than scolding.

  William let his arms drop, closing the farm ledger with a snap as he did. “You want to know what I’m after?” He paced toward Mariah, his eyes narrowed, his grin vicious. “I’m after what is mine and not yours. Where were you last year, or last month, for that matter? Did you even know this place existed? I grew up here.”

  “You grew up at Mulberry Court.” Peter countered him, moving to stand between William and Mariah. “Which you were forced to sell to pay off debts.”

  William sent a look of pure murder at Peter then turned it on Mariah with so much threat that it made her shiver. “You, my lady, have taken everything from me. Don’t make me return the favor.”

  “That’s enough,” Peter said. He turned to William. “You will—”

  “Leave this house?” William asked, too much eagerness in his eyes. “Was that enough to convince you to throw me out?”

  “Stay away from my wife,” Peter growled with an air of finality.

  “Only if you do as well.” William took a step toward him.

  The two men glared at each other, toe to toe. Peter was a g
ood three inches taller than William, but it was clear to Mariah that William had a will of iron and that he wouldn’t back down.

  “Mrs. Wilson implied that we should host a dinner party,” Mariah said, desperate to break up the impending fight.

  Both men blinked and stared at her in confusion.

  Mariah licked her lips and clasped her hands in front of her. The ploy had worked, but she had no idea where she should go from there. “Perhaps you could both recommend some neighbors that I could invite.”

  William looked at her as though she’d gone mad. Peter’s look wasn’t all that different to start, but it quickly flashed with inspiration. “Captain Tennant and his new wife are still in the area.” He stared at William. “I’m sure they would love to see you again.”

  “Oh no.” William laughed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, a manic look in his eyes. “I’m not going to turn tail and run. I’m not afraid of Tennant.”

  “Fine.” A tight smile made Peter seem even more dangerous. “Then stay and explain yourself to Albert.”

  “I will.” William crossed his arms, holding the ledger under his arm. “And I recommend, my lady, that you invite Lord Barkley.”

  Peter sucked in a breath, but was quick to hide the intensity of his reaction.

  Mariah frowned. “Who is Lord Barkley?”

  “Anne’s brother,” Peter answered with a deep frown.

  “I’m sure he’d like to meet the woman who took his sister’s place,” William said with a triumphant grin.

  Mariah bit the inside of her lip, trying not to let either man see what she was thinking. She was eager to meet Captain Tennant, especially if it meant she could ask about the sinking of his ship. And if she were honest, she wanted to meet Anne’s brother as well. While she couldn’t ask him anything outright, perhaps speaking with him over supper would untangle some of the mystery that still hung over Anne.

  “All right,” she said, shrugging to make it look as though she didn’t care one way or another. “I’ll have Mrs. Wilson put together invitations right away. Anyone else I should consider inviting?”

  Peter and William were still staring daggers at each other, wrapped up in their own tug-o-war. “The Goodmans and the St. Aubyns should be invited as well, seeing as they’re our closest neighbors,” Peter said.