His Christmas Countess

by Louise Allen

  Grant kissed her, gently, sweetly, when they reached his bedchamber again. They shed their night robes and Kate climbed into bed beside him and lay on her stomach, her chin propped on her hands as she frowned at the harmless stack of pillows. ‘So, what do you want to do? Leave the door locked for ever?’

  ‘No. You are right, I cannot risk Charlie becoming curious.’ He began to play with the ends of her hair as it spilled across the sheets. ‘He is growing up and I need to deal with this for all our sakes.’

  ‘Let us be practical, then,’ Kate said, lifting her chin to look at him. He was stretched out, hands behind his head, the muscles of his upper arms and shoulders in strong relief. A wave of desire washed over her and she suppressed it. They could make love when this was decided. ‘Pull the house down?’ she suggested to shock him into suggesting a counter-solution.

  ‘Demolish it? Rather an extreme solution—besides, I am fond of all the rest of the old place, so is Charlie.’

  ‘Rip out those rooms, tear up the floorboards, get rid of the fireplace and everything in the bedchamber, put new dividing walls in to change the space completely.’

  ‘That would work,’ Grant said thoughtfully. ‘And what do I tell Charlie?’

  ‘Woodworm?’

  ‘That’s a lie.’

  And Grant hates lies. ‘Tell him that the floor is dangerous. And it is. Dangerous to your peace of mind, dangerous to his if he ever sees it and asks what the marks of fire are, what that dark stain is.’

  ‘Clever.’

  ‘Of course.’ Kate said it smugly to make him laugh and, to her great relief, he did.

  ‘Come here.’ He hauled her up unceremoniously to lie on top of him. ‘Thank you. I was beginning to think I was losing my mind. A man ought to be able to cope with such things.’

  ‘Not everything, not horrors, not unless he is an unfeeling brute.’ She laid her cheek against his chest and blew gently into the dark hair, smiling as his nipples contracted tightly. ‘I think you feel more guilty because you did not love her.’ It was dangerous to talk of love. As soon as she used the word, she had a horrid feeling that Grant might think she was fishing for him to say that he loved her. Which of course he didn’t. Nor did she expect it. It was not as though…

  ‘Is that some feminine logic that escapes me?’

  ‘You cannot mourn her, only her unhappiness and the unhappiness she caused you. You dare not think too much about her in case you find you are relieved at her death.’

  Beneath her the long, hard body had become very still. Kate could feel the thud of his heart, the slight rise and fall of his breathing. Then Grant said, ‘You hit hard, do you not, honest Kate? You drag out thoughts that I had not even acknowledged.’

  ‘I like you,’ she said and raised her head to look deep into the troubled green eyes, half shielded by dark lashes. ‘I hope I am your friend as well as your wife and your lover. Who can be honest if not your friends?’

  ‘My closest male friends do not suggest such things.’

  ‘Because they are male. Does Alex confide how much he loves Tess? Does Cris admit that he is in love?’

  ‘Is he?’ Surprise seemed to jerk Grant out of his inward-looking thoughts.

  ‘I think so. He is certainly not happy, although he hides it well. I cannot be certain, of course, but there is something in his expression when he looks at Alex and Tess, and I saw it once, reflected in a mirror, when he was looking at us. Happy marriages. I cannot believe that he would be unhappy over not being married, because he could remedy that soon enough, he is so very eligible after all. Which makes me think he loves someone and it is not returned. Will he tell you about it?’

  ‘Poor devil. I never thought to say that about Cris, and as for confiding, at knife point, possibly, otherwise, not,’ he admitted with a faint smile that vanished as he frowned, back searching into his memory. ‘I was not relieved she died. No, never that. If I could have gone back in time, never married Madeleine, then perhaps I would have done—but then I would not have Charlie, would I?’

  Kate felt him relax as he thought of his son, then he smiled properly and she sensed the loosening of his taut body. ‘We’ll turn that space into rooms for the children. A bedroom each, a schoolroom, a nursery. That will chase the ghosts away better than any exorcism.’

  ‘Grant, that’s a brilliant idea.’ Kate wriggled up to kiss him and realised that he had relaxed enough to be thinking of his new wife, not his old—or perhaps it was just his body that was doing so. She slid her tongue between his lips and snuggled her hips closer against his and smiled as her husband rolled her over with a possessive growl. He would not have nightmares tonight.

  But, as she went down into the whirlpool of sensation with him, the thought flickered through her mind that they were making love without restraint and without care for the consequences. Strange that she had never given it a thought before tonight. The children’s suite might need more rooms one day…

  *

  ‘You are happy.’ Tess linked her arm through Kate’s as they strolled across the parterre.

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘We…confronted our problem. Look, you see that rough lawn down there? We are going to turn that into a water garden.’

  ‘I’m so glad—about both the problem and the water garden.’ Tess was not easily diverted from her theme. ‘And I am happy for both of you. I only met Grant fleetingly before I married Alex, but I liked him very much. I am so glad he has found someone to love, someone who loves him.’

  ‘I…’ Oh, why deny it? You are head over heels in love with the man. ‘Grant does not love me. I told you the truth, that it was a marriage of convenience. We hardly know each other yet.’

  ‘Alex and I did not know each other very long before I knew that I loved him. Mind you, it took an awful lot to make him realise that he loved me, even when I set about seducing him,’ Tess admitted with a candour that made Kate smile despite everything. ‘Men are not very bright about emotions of that sort.’

  ‘Nor am I. I don’t want to have my heart broken. I thought I was in love before, with Anna’s father, but I was not. Now I feel like this about Grant and it can be wonderful in… I mean, it is wonderful being with him.’ She must be the colour of a peony.

  ‘Wonderful in bed?’ Tess teased. ‘For me, too. Aren’t we lucky? Such talented men.’

  ‘Yes. But Grant doesn’t expect love in marriage. He certainly didn’t find it with his first wife and that was a disaster that’s haunting him still. He really did not want to marry again, not for himself. He did it because he wanted to rescue me, and because Charlie needed a stepmother and because he had promised his grandfather.’ She watched a rabbit hop across the grass, stop to eat something, then, suddenly alarmed, make for the woods. That was how she felt—calm and content, then frightened by fears she could not quite name, doubts she could not express.

  ‘I should be happy with what I have—a good man, two lovely children, security, physical bliss. And yet…’

  ‘And yet you want it all and it will hurt all the more if he does not love you, because you can see so clearly how it could be.’

  ‘And Grant says that I hit hard,’ Kate said with a rueful smile.

  ‘I was brought up by nuns to be painfully honest and it is difficult to remember tact sometimes. Are you sure he does not love you?’

  ‘Quite sure. I believe he thinks he did the right thing in marrying me, which is something. But if I vanished off the face of the earth tomorrow?’ She shrugged. ‘He would be truly sorry, but his heart would not be broken.’

  ‘What will you do?’ Tess took off her bonnet and began to swing it from its ribbons, turning her face up to the sky.

  ‘You will get freckles,’ Kate warned. ‘Do? Why, nothing. I can’t imagine ever having the courage to tell him. He would be so kind about it.’ She shivered.

  ‘Yes. Horrible,’ Tess agreed. ‘He would pussyfoot around being nice to you and you would never know what he really felt.’

 
; *

  ‘I think we should go through the things in Madeleine’s bedchamber,’ Kate suggested as she and Grant found themselves alone in the dining room waiting for their guests to join them for luncheon. ‘Do you think there might be items you could give to Charlie as a memento of his mother? He would treasure that.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be jealous?’ Grant seemed puzzled. ‘He’s never known her, he can’t really remember her and he loves you. Why do you risk that by making her more real for him?’

  ‘What he feels for me cannot be diluted by what he feels for anyone else. He loves you, he loves me, he loves his grandfather’s memory and he can love his mother—that makes more love, not less.’ Tess was right, she thought, men really are confused about love.

  ‘I suppose that is true.’ Grant caught Kate around the waist and pulled her into his embrace, to the imminent danger of the nearest place setting. ‘He won’t love you less—you are here and you are easy to love, Kate.’ He said it with a smile as he dipped his head to kiss her and Kate lurched back clumsily, sending a knife clattering to the floor.

  There was the sound of someone clearing their throat and Cris de Feaux remarked, ‘My dear Grant, we are more than happy to take luncheon on the terrace—you only had to drop a hint, you know. But I’m sure a fully laid table is a most uncomfortable place to…er…bill and coo.’

  Grant released her, scooped up the knife and waved the others into the room. ‘If a man cannot kiss his own wife in his own dining room without being accused of disgusting practices, things have come to a sorry pass,’ he remarked as he held a chair for Kate, then walked around to take his own place. ‘Billing and cooing indeed. Where on earth did you pick up such a bourgeois expression?’

  Gabriel Stone sat down next to Kate and gave a snort of laughter. ‘I would pay good money to see the Marquess of Avenmore billing and cooing.’

  Kate kicked him sharply on the ankle.

  ‘Ouch,’ he murmured. ‘My dear Lady Allundale, if you wish to flirt, might I suggest that firstly you caress with your delightful foot and secondly that we do it away from your husband’s jealous eye? I have no desire to face him at dawn. The man is too good with a firearm.’

  ‘Oh, stop it,’ Kate whispered back. ‘I do not want to flirt with you, Lord Edenbridge, and you know it. Kindly do not tease the marquess.’

  ‘Why ever not?’ He turned his wicked smile on her. ‘Teasing Cris keeps him human. He’d be too perfect to be true if we didn’t.’

  ‘He has feelings,’ she said vehemently. ‘Even if you do not.’

  ‘Ah, Lady Allundale, just because you are in love, you do not need to wish the affliction on everyone.’

  ‘It is not an affliction,’ Kate snapped.

  ‘No?’ The dark, knowing gaze moved from her to Grant, who was engaged in an energetic argument with Alex Tempest at the other end of the table. ‘If you say so, sweet Kate, I must believe you.’

  Infuriating man. Kate passed Gabriel the bread and butter with more force than elegance. He knows I love Grant. Which means if both Tess and he can see it, then Grant must be able to see how I feel, as well. On the other hand, she mused, pushing a slice of cold chicken around her plate, perhaps Grant doesn’t see, any more than he and Lord Edenbridge can perceive that Lord Avenmore is suffering.

  She was making herself dizzy, going in circles. Kate made a superhuman effort, pushed all thoughts of her marriage to the back of her mind and enquired about Lord Edenbridge’s family home in repressive tones that managed to curtail even his tendency to tease.

  *

  ‘We need a builder,’ Grant said a week later as they stood and waved goodbye to the three carriages.

  ‘Not an architect?’ Kate shifted Anna into a more comfortable position and kept an eye on Charlie, racing down the drive for a last wave to his favourite ‘uncles’.

  ‘No, the sketches we did will be enough for a good joiner to work from.’ Grant turned back to the house. ‘I thought to ask Wilson to sort all the personal items from the bedroom. The gowns, perfume bottles, the curtains, all of that kind of thing will go anonymously to charities in Newcastle for them to sell.’ He hesitated. ‘There’s a miniature of Madeleine. Should I give it to Charlie now, do you think, or wait until he is older?’

  ‘Now, I think.’ Kate moved close to his side. ‘You remember that tomorrow I have a number of ladies visiting for tea? I met them at Mrs Lowndes’s charity sewing circle. Some of them are bringing children with them, which will keep Charlie occupied. That will give Wilson the opportunity to tackle the room.’

  She stopped in the doorway and called to Charlie, who came racing back with Rambler, the elderly pointer, at his heels. The secrets and ghosts would soon be gone from this house and from Grant’s heart, driven out by sawdust and hammering, plasterers and cheerful, noisy builders. Summer was coming, the valley was blossoming and her children were, too. Her husband seemed happy and she was learning to live with loving him in secret.

  Christmas, and London, were a very long way away, Kate thought as she turned back to the hallway and her waiting husband. A long way. Grant would see how happy they all were here and it could only get better. When autumn came he would not want to leave this place for the dirt and noise and artificiality of London.

  She held out her hand and he took it and, as he bent to kiss her, there was nothing but warmth in the green eyes that smiled into hers.

  November 23—Abbeywell

  ‘Lady Mortenson is holding a party and we are invited.’ Kate waved the letter in Grant’s direction.

  ‘What date is it?’ Grant looked up from the copy of the Times that was folded beside his plate.

  ‘The eighteenth of December.’ Kate spread damson preserve on her toast and passed her wardrobe in mental review. She would definitely need a new gown and probably some evening slippers, as well.

  ‘That’s a pity, we’ll miss it.’ Grant was still intent on the Parliamentary news.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We will be in London by then, of course.’ He looked up as if surprised she even had to ask.

  ‘London? But you never said anything about London.’

  ‘I most certainly did.’ Grant tossed the newssheet aside. ‘When I came back in May I said we would have the summer here, then go back to London.’

  ‘After Christmas.’ Somehow she stopped her voice rising to a shriek. ‘You said after Christmas.’

  ‘Yes, but the building work is proving far more disruptive than we thought with all the work they are doing on the chimney flues.’ He was using what Kate thought of as his husband being reasonable voice. It usually amused her, especially as she won half of the battles that necessitated the use of it. Now she dropped the toast, jam-side down, on to the plate and stared at him as he continued, just as reasonably. ‘We can’t use half the downstairs rooms because we can’t light fires there and the house is getting colder and colder. And you said yourself only the other day that it is making a lot of work for the staff, trying to keep all the dust under control. If we weren’t here, they could shut up all the rooms, put dust covers on the furniture, retreat into the warm part and let the builders get on with it. I thought we could go down next week.’

  ‘Next week?’ Kate echoed faintly. Over Christmas week London would be quiet and starved of fashionable company because most of the ton would be at their country estates. But at the beginning of December she was sure the capital would seem as busy as always. It might not be the Season, but society would still be there in force.

  ‘I’m sure I said something.’ Grant shrugged. ‘Perhaps I just remarked about it to Grimswade and Bolton. And Wilkinson.’ He picked up the paper again. ‘I’m sure I mentioned it to Wilkinson.’

  ‘My lord.’ Kate kept her voice level because it would not do to shout in front of the footmen. ‘You may have told your butler, your secretary and your bailiff, but you did not tell your wife.’

  ‘There is no need to worry, my dear.’ Grant seemed blissfully unaware that he was wit
hin an inch of having the jam pot thrown at him. ‘The staff are well practised in getting packed up for London. We’ll take the chaise for ourselves and the travelling coach for the children and Jeannie and Gough, and then another coach for the luggage. This fine dry weather seems set to hold.’

  ‘Thank you, Giles, that will be all.’ Kate waited until the footmen had gone out and the door had closed. ‘My lord, I do not want to go to London.’

  ‘Why ever not?’ Finally she had his full attention. Probably the repeated use of his title gave him an inkling that all was not well.

  ‘Because—’ My lover will be there. Anna’s father. The man who ruined me and who has every cause to wish to see me in prison. My brother might be there and will try his damnedest to ensnare you in his schemes. Because you’ll find out that I told you a pack of lies. Because I am terrified that everything we have built is going to fall apart. And she could say none of that.

  The six months that Grant had been at Abbeywell had been months of contentment. They had grown closer and had fallen into a domestic routine that appeared to please both of them. Their nights were filled with passionate lovemaking and Grant showed no sign of tiring of her, even though he had not declared any feeling for her beyond affection. The children were flourishing.

  We have become a family, Kate thought, but it is all founded on lies. My lies. They were companionable, but sometimes that companionship felt merely polite and distant and Kate knew there was an invisible barrier between them that stopped them achieving the closeness that might lead to a mutual love. She suspected it was her own guilty conscience that had raised that sheet of glass. She dared not break it and the more time went past, the harder it became to even contemplate telling him the truth. It was as though the right moment had slipped through her fingers and was now vanishing, too far gone to catch.

  The marriage was like a house built of cards. If Grant discovered the truth, then it would all come tumbling down—their family life, the children’s security, Grant’s reputation if, as she suspected he would, he insisted on confronting the criminality of what Henry had done. At some level Grant must sense that she was holding something back from him, but he was too much the gentleman to force the issue.