A Christmas Match: A Regency Romance (Landon House Book 4)

by Rose Pearson

  He had not joined the other guests when they had gone to sing carols together, but had decisively made his way from the townhouse, having chosen to take his leave rather than remain and join in with such festivities. That would only remind him of what Lady Frederica had done and that, coupled with the awareness that she was now in London, made things all the worse.

  “Your coffee, my Lord.”

  Benedict reached out and took the cup at once, seeing the footman standing respectfully to one side.

  “Pray, go and make certain that Lord Ramsbury does not lack refreshments,” he said, as the coffee began to warm him through, sending a fresh heat into his very bones. “And inform him that I shall join him within the hour.”

  The footman nodded and quit the room without a word, closing the door tightly behind him. Benedict grimaced and picked up his cup once more, taking another sip before setting it back down again. There was a tartness to the coffee which seemed to awaken him a little more, seemed to take some of the pain from his head, and yet Benedict knew that he would have to be a good deal more himself before he could face Ramsbury. The last thing he needed was to attempt to speak to his friend when there was nothing but confusion and pain coming from both his head and his heart! Ramsbury would just have to wait a little longer.

  “Whatever were you thinking?”

  Benedict winced as a fresh wave of pain sliced through his head.

  “You need not raise your voice so, Ramsbury,” he muttered, walking across the room and throwing himself into a chair near the fire. “Surely you must be aware of the state I am in at present?”

  Ramsbury’s eyes narrowed.

  “I care nothing for how you feel,” he stated, angrily. “To behave with such a lack of decorum and consideration is both ridiculous and inconsiderate. Have you any idea of just how upset Lady Charity was at your behavior?”

  “I – I recall very little,” Benedict replied, truthfully. “Although, now that I think on it….” He trailed off, his brow furrowing as he looked away from his friend, suddenly remembering a very distressed and angry Lady Charity as she had stood before him, words flinging themselves from her mouth. “She – she was angry with me, was she not?”

  “And rightly so!” Ramsbury retorted, furiously. “You were foxed and half-witted last evening, Hosmer! And all because a lady from three years past has decided to return to London! I may not have called you a fool before, but I shall do so now!” Wincing, but refusing to say anything which would justify him to Ramsbury – for, indeed, there was nothing for him to say – Benedict put his head in his hands and let out a long, heavy sigh. “Just because Lady Norwich has come back to London does not mean that you should throw aside all that you have only just begun to discover,” Ramsbury continued, clearly still very angry. “You stated to Lady Charity that you realized the merit of what she had suggested, told her that you would be glad of her aid, only to then behave in a manner which told Lady Charity that you have no real intention of doing so. You saw Lady Norwich again, left Lady Charity in great haste and, since then, have done nothing but mope around in your townhouse until you decided to attend a soiree and drink more than you ought. In addition, you then made such a fool of yourself that even Lady Charity spoke out against your behavior – and, as I have said, with every right to her vehemence in doing so. And what is worse, the fact that you cannot see what is right before your face makes you all the more ridiculous. I am ashamed to call you my friend at this present moment, Hosmer. Something must be done.”

  Benedict lifted his head from his hands. He had never seen Ramsbury in such a state of anger before, had never heard him speak with such force! The words jarred him, made him question all that he had been doing and forced him to look again at his own behavior.

  “I – I am sorry.” Ramsbury’s brows lifted in evident surprise, perhaps having expected Benedict to do nothing other than defend his actions. “You must understand that seeing Lady Frederica – that is, Lady Norwich – again came as a great shock.”

  Ramsbury threw up his hands.

  “But why should it be so?” he demanded, his eyes wide with evident frustration at Benedict’s ridiculous words. “It has been three years! I know you cared for her, but surely what she chose to do made you realize her true nature! You cannot surely consider yourself to still care for her in that same way?”

  “Indeed, I do not!” Benedict exclaimed, almost appalled at the idea. “But when I saw her, the very same –”

  “You recalled all that had occurred and it brought you a great deal of pain,” Ramsbury said, wearily, shaking his head. “Yes, Hosmer. I have heard you say similar things before. That is why you find no enjoyment in all that this wonderful time of year can bring. You are choosing to remain there, choosing to remain in the shadows rather than step out into the light. And, in doing so, you are missing all that is before you, all that could be if only you would grasp it.” He dropped his hands and closed his eyes, his voice no longer as loud as it had been. “And it will escape from you before you realize.”

  Benedict frowned, looking steadily at his friend and trying to make sense of what he said.

  “What will escape from me?” he asked, as Ramsbury sighed heavily and threw him a weary look. “What is it that I am missing?”

  Ramsbury said nothing, looking back at Benedict steadily for some minutes before he muttered something Benedict could not hear, and clasped his hands tightly behind his back, turning his head away. Benedict had the distinct impression that he was the sole cause of Ramsbury’s great frustration and that, he had to admit, made him rather embarrassed.

  “Lady Charity is before you,” Ramsbury stated, astonishing Benedict. “Do you truly believe that her only interest in you is gratitude for what you did with Lord Amundsen?” He laughed, the sound brittle and harsh. “It may have been so at the first but I can assure you that it is now not the only reason for her interest in you.”

  Benedict shook his head, a tightness in his chest that had not been there before.

  “That is nonsense,” he said, determinedly. “Lady Charity is nothing more than a kind-hearted creature who has sought to aid this poor fool towards a happier path. And she has done so solely to repay me for my actions with Lord Amundsen – which, I recall informing her, was not at all necessary.”

  “You may believe that, but both my good wife and I think you are quite mistaken,” Ramsbury replied, firmly. “Lady Charity is all that you have described, however. She has a good nature, is very generous indeed and has a kindness about her that is evident to all. But that kindness and generosity of spirit has been pushed or directed to you. And to you alone, Hosmer.”

  Benedict wanted to scoff at this, wanted to state that his friend was quite mistaken, but there came a sudden heat that ran from his head to the very soles of his feet as he thought about what Ramsbury had said.

  “You mean to suggest that there is an opportunity for a further acquaintance between myself and Lady Charity?” Benedict asked, as Ramsbury nodded. “I – I cannot think so. I –”

  “As I have said, you have been so caught up with Lady Norwich that you have not seen what is right before your eyes,” Ramsbury interrupted, finally calm enough to sit down and look directly at Benedict without anger burning in his eyes. “I should not like to suggest that Lady Charity is simply waiting for you to notice her, however. Although I believe that your acquaintance can, in time, bring about a great happiness for you both, should you be willing to pursue it.”

  Benedict did not know what to say, feeling himself quite overwhelmed by such a statement, and yet realizing that what Ramsbury was saying about his lack of awareness and his tendency to become entirely caught up with Lady Norwich was, of course, quite correct. As for Lady Charity, however, he had not even thought about such a thing and, therefore, could not yet properly consider what he felt about the idea.

  “Forget Lady Norwich,” Ramsbury said, quietly. “Forget what she chose, forget the pain and choose to leave it in the past whe
re it belongs. For too long, you have dwelt on the pain that this time of year brings to you rather than considering what might be waiting for you here, should you only look. I have done what I can to encourage you out of such a situation but it has been Lady Charity who has finally managed to do so.” One shoulder lifted. “I think that speaks for itself, does it not?”

  Benedict was not quite sure what to say to such a remark, looking at his friend and feeling both embarrassment and shame creep over his heart.

  “What must I do?” he said eventually, as Ramsbury lifted one eyebrow. “Lady Charity, you said, was very upset last evening. There must be something I can do or say that will, in some small way, make recompense?

  Ramsbury looked away, his brow furrowing and his lips twisted and pulled to one side as he considered.

  “I suppose,” he said, slowly, “that you will have to find a way to prove to Lady Charity that you are not as caught up with Lady Norwich’s return as she believes you to be. She needs to see that you are making every attempt to step away from your past memories and look now to the future. When you see Lady Norwich again – as you are certain to do given that she is now in society – you must be cordial but nothing more. Be entirely unaffected.”

  “I – I am not certain that I can be,” Benedict replied, a little gruffly. “It is easy enough to say but –”

  “Prepare yourself, if you must,” Ramsbury interrupted, his tone now rather practical. “And whatever you feel, do not permit it to permeate your behavior nor your manner. Consider what and who you have before you, particularly if it is Lady Charity.”

  Letting out a small sigh, Benedict let his resolve begin to grow steadily.

  “Very well,” he said, as Ramsbury nodded, a somewhat contented expression settling across his face. “I shall try, of course.”

  The thought of seeing Lady Norwich again, of being in her company and having to greet her as though nothing whatsoever had occurred between them, was one that wrapped itself tightly around Benedict’s heart and squeezed hard. However, the thought of having to speak to Lady Charity again, to apologize and to attempt to make amends, now realizing what might be between them, should he pursue it, made his considerations all the more fierce.

  “I am glad to hear it,” Ramsbury replied. “Now, you are to attend Lord Whitegates’s ball this evening, are you not? I am certain that both Lady Charity and Lady Norwich will be present.”

  Benedict found himself nodding, even though he had already decided to remain at home for the rest of the day and night.

  “I will attend, of course,” he said, evidently willing to resign himself to the fact that he would now be going regardless of what he had thought previously. “And mayhap spend the little time I have left before then to consider all that you have said.”

  Ramsbury nodded.

  “Very good, Hosmer,” he replied, now a good deal calmer than before. “And let us hope that this night, you will not be as eager to imbibe as much brandy as before!”

  “I certainly shall not do so,” Benedict replied, ruefully. “Of that, Ramsbury, I am quite determined.”

  Stepping into Lord Whitegate’s ball filled Benedict with more nervousness than he had experienced in some time. Just knowing that both Lady Charity and Lady Norwich were present filled him with such anxiety that he felt like turning around and making his way directly back to his carriage. But no, he was not about to show such cowardice. He had behaved foolishly and it was right for him to make amends as best he could with Lady Charity, and he had spent the afternoon considering what he might say to Lady Norwich, should he meet her again. No longer was he filled with that same ire, the same lingering pain which had caught him so many times before. There was, of course, the urge to press his mind back to that moment, to see the greenery decorating the ballroom and to let himself recall the happy times he had spent with Lady Norwich before she had brought their betrothal to an end – but Benedict was determined not to do so. He had lived too long in such memories and now, if he was to find any happiness at all, he needed to be determined in his efforts.

  Walking through the ballroom, he smiled and nodded at various guests before, finally, he caught sight of his quarry. Lady Charity was standing with Lady Hayward and talking with another young lady and someone Benedict presumed was the young lady’s mother. There was a warm smile on Lady Charity’s lips and none of the anger that he had managed to recall from last evening.

  If only she would look at me in such a way.

  The thought came unbidden to his mind as he stood still, looking at the lady and finding his heart quickening in a manner that astonished him greatly. Had Ramsbury been correct? Had he simply not seen her in this particular way before?

  Her eyes flicked towards him for just a moment, as though she knew that he was watching her, and Benedict quickly darted his own gaze away, although it was much too late. Embarrassment brought a fresh warmth to his face but he remained precisely where he was, uncertain whether or not to approach Lady Charity.

  “Good evening, Lord Hosmer. I did wonder when we might see each other again.”

  A familiar voice reached his ears and the warmth he felt was chased away in an instant as he turned to his left. Lady Norwich was standing there, entirely unaccompanied, it seemed, her eyes searching his face with evidently eager expectation – although quite what she was hoping for, Benedict could not say.

  He cleared his throat and looked back at her steadily.

  “Good evening, Lady Norwich,” he said, taking in her familiar features but, to his surprise, feeling no hint of longing, no sudden swell of pain. He found himself rather detached, in fact, perhaps all too aware of Lady Charity nearby. “I did not know you had returned to London.”

  “I have indeed,” she answered, her eyes bright and a small smile on her face, as though she was attempting to prove just how glad she was to see him again, although Benedict suspected that she was also hiding the truth of her emotions from him. “I thought to spend Christmas in London this year, in an attempt to make my situation a little happier.” She looked away for a moment, her smile fading. “It would be better than remaining at my small estate alone, certainly.”

  Benedict, slightly uncertain as to what the lady meant, said nothing but found himself clearing his throat again, turning his head away for a moment or two.

  “And you are quite contented, Lord Hosmer?” Lady Norwich asked. “You are not wed, as yet?”

  A little taken aback by the question, Benedict looked at her sharply but there was nothing but a gentle interest on the lady’s face.

  “No,” he replied, tightly. “I am not yet wed.”

  “Well, I am certain that whichever lady you choose will be very contented with the match indeed,” she replied, confusing him all the more. If he was correct, there was a small hint of regret in her voice but, then again, he might only be hearing what he wished to hear. Part of him, certainly, wanted her to feel regret and shame for what she had done, but Benedict knew that to be eager for such a thing was foolishness indeed.

  “Are you inclined to dance this evening?” she asked him but Benedict quickly shook his head. Nothing could interest him less than taking Lady Norwich in his arms and stepping out with her, and he wanted to make such a thing very clear indeed.

  “I do not find myself inclined to dancing,” he stated, a little coldly. “You must understand, Lady Norwich. There is a good deal about this time of year that lacks the enjoyment it once had.”

  He had not meant to say such a thing, had not meant to fill his words with the sound of accusation but yet they had escaped from him and, as he looked into her face, Benedict saw that she understood precisely what he meant.

  “I see,” came the quiet reply, her smile no longer present. “I quite understand, Lord Hosmer. I confess that I am not particularly eager to dance either, given that I am still wrapped up in sorrow.”

  Benedict frowned.

  “Sorrow?” he repeated, as Lady Norwich nodded. “I – I am sorry to hear
that, Lady Norwich.”

  “Are you indeed?” Her voice had become a little sharper, her eyes now a trifle narrowed. “I had thought that you might be a little glad to hear of my suffering, Lord Hosmer.” Her suggestion brought a stab of guilt to his heart for, even though he was quite unsure as to what she spoke of, he could not help but quietly admit that she was correct. “But perhaps I am mistaken and have thought too little of you,” she continued, her shoulders suddenly slumping and her expression now quite forlorn. “Forgive me, Lord Hosmer. I should not think that you would be glad over my new situation as a widow.”

  Shock ran straight down Benedict’s spine although he quickly rearranged his features so that she would not see such an expression on his face. He had not known that Lord Norwich had passed away. He had not known that Lady Norwich was now a widow and certainly, he found no joy in that knowledge.

  “I thank you for your consideration, Lady Norwich,” he replied, a little more quietly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lady Charity bob a quick curtsey in quick farewell to the ladies she had been speaking to. His desire to go to her grew swiftly, perhaps made all the stronger by his eagerness to step away from Lady Norwich. “Now, if you will excuse me, there is a young lady that I have been eager to speak to.”

  A look of surprise jumped into Lady Norwich’s eyes, but Benedict paid it no attention. Instead, he bowed, turned on his heel and took his leave of her, feeling his chest fill with a great sense of relief. He had done it. He had managed to speak to Lady Norwich without any great difficulty. There was no great pain slicing through his heart, no clamoring of his terrible thoughts. Instead, there was now a quiet calmness and a sense of relief that he had managed to converse with the lady without any great difficulty and without feeling overwhelmed by his thoughts.

  “Lady Charity?”

  The young lady stopped at once and dropped into a quick curtsey.

  “Good evening, Lord Hosmer,” she said, although no smile lifted her lips and no look of delight came into her eyes. “How do you fare this evening?”