Wrapped in Red (Colors of Scandal, #4)

by Sandra Sookoo

  His heart broke when her voice did, and he swore he felt each piece crash to the ground. Every one of those shards sent acute pain stabbing through his chest on the way down. “Is this what you really want, or what you’ve conditioned yourself to want, this hiding behind fear because you refuse to accept anything better?”

  She didn’t answer, and when Charles put an arm about her waist, the light inside Cornelius dimmed and died.

  “Perhaps you and he are meant for each other after all. Living an abbreviated life since fear will only allow you to move forward so much.” He staggered toward the door. “I hope you are happy, Mia. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wished for you.”

  Edward caught him up as he entered the corridor. Panic reflected in his eyes. “Go fight for her,” he urged in low tones as they headed toward the staircase. “I can see how you feel about her. The past is the past. Mistakes can’t hold a candle to true love.”

  “True love.” Cornelius snorted. “Bah. It’s another reason Christmastide should be avoided at all costs. It makes a man hope for too many things that were never there to begin with.” He hated the sting of the words and the pain radiating around his heart as they climbed the stairs.

  “Surely you can’t believe that,” his son argued. “I’ve never known you to accept defeat.”

  Oh, to be young and idealistic again. “She made her choice, and I’m tired of the rejections. I’m going home to London.” A shuddering breath escaped him. “Where I should have stayed.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No. Stay and enjoy yourself here.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Annoyance clung to his words, for the situation or his choice, Cornelius had no idea. He didn’t have the strength to find out. “I’m sorry, Father.” Edward clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I wanted a happy ending for you.”

  “So did I. Shows you how foolish that dream was.” He dashed away a tear that fell. After two glorious days with her, he was alone once more.

  And this time, there was nothing to hope for.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Amelia shook from reaction. She hadn’t thought Cornelius would go. Argue with her, yes, for that was what they did, but actually take his leave? She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Yes, she’d been angry with him, but once the initial shock wore off, annoyance at the situation remained behind. It was maddening to know what she wanted—to an extent—but have it wrenched away due to circumstances not of her making.

  Or people using her for their own purposes.

  Whatever else Cornelius was or had done, he’d not stooped to that. Her mind went back to earlier that morning when she’d found him weak and disoriented in the icehouse. Oh, yes, she’d realized she loved him in that moment, and those feelings went beyond the heat and desire that always sparked between them.

  Now, he was gone, for she’d seen the dejection, the anger, and finally the acceptance in his eyes when he’d walked away. He wouldn’t return; he had his pride, after all.

  Oh, God, I can’t bear it. This time, their parting was entirely her fault. Tears renewed in her eyes. They spilled unheeded to her cheeks.

  “Come, Amelia.” Charles touched her hand. “I’ll locate the clergyman and our nuptial ceremony can take place. Let us put these recent unsavory events behind us.”

  She glanced to the door and then back to him again. The smile that curved his lips rang false, for behind his charm, he had no intention of changing. Once Twelfth Night celebrations ended, he’d depart for London and leave her at Trenton Hall, to fill in during yet another long absence.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.” She shook her head and wrenched from his hold. “No, I won’t marry you.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “What do you need to hear from me in order to change your mind?”

  “More than you have provided.” It was time to take him to task like she should have done years ago. “I don’t love you in a romantic way, and I refuse to marry without that. Life is difficult enough without going to battle in a marriage every day.”

  Fear shadowed his face and darkened his eyes. “I need you, Amelia.”

  “Only to run your life.” It was as if the blindfold had fallen off her eyes and she could see everything clearly now. “I’m at fault for babying you along. Not anymore.” She crossed her arms at her chest. “You rise or fall on your own now. I need to do the same.”

  “Listen to what you’re saying,” he said in a rush. “You’d throw away everything here merely to teach me a lesson?”

  “If that’s what it’ll finally take, yes I will.” She straightened her spine and gathered her self-confidence about her like a garment. “I’m done hiding, Charles.” It had taken Cornelius’ parting words to make her see the truth of what she’d been doing over the years. “You need to stop doing the same. Peter isn’t coming back. None of them are...” She pressed her lips together as she thought about what she’d say next. “...but we are here, and that’s enough. We have a life to live.”

  “How can I do that without you making sure the estate runs like clockwork?” A slight whine had set up in his voice that set her teeth on edge.

  Amelia flew at him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and gave him a rough shake. “Either be the earl that Trenton Hall—that the title—deserves or get the hell out. You have had ample time to figure it out.” She didn’t care how her words sounded; it was past time for him to hear the hard truth. “I’m done coddling you, hoping you’ll do the right thing. Whether you like it or not, you are the earl. Period.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “Remember how my father attended to those duties. Familiarize yourself with your tenants and staff. Ask around, and then rely on your instincts.” She gave him another shake. “Do you think any man who comes into a title suddenly knows what to do?” A gasp escaped her. Cornelius certainly hadn’t, but he’d eventually settled into that role. “A good man will learn all he can and then he’ll try his best.”

  “What if I fail?” Charles resembled a lost little boy in that instant, but she had to cut him loose.

  “Oh, you no doubt will, but that’s how you’ll learn.” She released him and smiled. I have been such an idiot.

  “I’m terrified, Amelia.” It was the most honest thing he’d ever said.

  “We all are at some point, but it’s how we rise again and continue on despite the difficulties facing us that defines us.”

  Charles nodded. “Thank you. I’ll try—for you—so you’ll be proud of me.”

  “I’ll always be proud of you, but I want you to do this for you, so when you go to sleep at night, you’ll know you’ve done right by everyone.”

  “I will.” He took her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. “You’re leaving Trenton Hall, aren’t you?” Resignation rang in his tone.

  “Yes.” Never had she been more certain of anything. “Once the Twelfth Night festivities are done. I’m going to London, spending some time at the townhouse there. After that, I’m not sure what I’ll do.”

  Without Cornelius, she was at sixes and sevens. I need time to think. The past thirty minutes had been most trying. Emotion swelled and built in her chest. Any moment it would burst forth and she wanted to be alone when that happened.

  Charles let go her hand. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not me you’ll need to convince. If you can, I advise you to repair your friendship with Cornelius. You’ll need him on this journey.”

  He darted his gaze away. “I’m not certain that’s possible.”

  “It’s Christmas, Charles. Anything is possible.”

  “Perhaps.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for anyone to be hurt. I only knew I couldn’t do this by myself.”

  “You won’t be alone. The staff on this estate are family. You have me and Rebecca, but you can do this. Peter had faith; you can too.” Quick tears sprang to her eyes. She should have modeled herself after her brother
. He was strong and honest, and if she’d but listened to him, she would have agreed he’d wanted nothing more than to prove himself in the army because he knew their father had been wrong. “I must go,” she mumbled and then she fled the room, moisture blurring her vision.

  By the time she made it to the kitchens, the staff bustled hither and yon, for Mr. Jessup had indeed managed to keep the guests entertained with a picnic luncheon, and from all accounts, it had been quite memorable.

  Before she could allow herself to completely give into the rising tide of her emotions, Amelia sought out the kitchen maid who’d been used by Charles.

  “Molly, isn’t it?” she said as she entered the housekeeper’s office where the girl was being held.

  “Yes, my lady.” The red-haired girl fell into a straight-backed wooden chair Amelia guided her over to. “Will you sack me?”

  “You don’t mince words. I like that.” Amelia smiled, but her chin wobbled. “Tell me what happened.”

  The maid clenched her hands in her lap and stared at her fingers. “Lord Trenton flirted with me a few times. Once, he pulled me into a closet and kissed me.”

  Dear God. That needed to stop once he put his life in order. “You thought he might care for you.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes.” A wail accompanied the affirmation. She raised her eyes. Tears streaked her cheeks. “I wanted to do anything for Lord Trenton, so when he asked me to put half that bottle of medicine into a cup of punch, I did. I thought it was a test, that if I pleased him, he would...”

  “Marry you.”

  The poor maid nodded. “I didn’t know he meant to poison someone.” Her eyes were large and fearful. “Please don’t sack me.”

  “I’m not going to do that. However, I will remove you from further temptation.” She made a split decision. “You’ll go with me to London after Twelfth Night and will join the staff at the Trenton townhouse.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Molly bolted up from the chair so fast it almost tipped. “Mr. Jessup said I was excused from my duties for the rest of the day and I was to stay in my room.”

  “That’s a good idea. Best go on then.” When the girl pelted for the staircase, Amelia moved through the kitchens to the butler’s office. She closed the door and then collapsed upon the same chair she’d appropriated a few days ago when she’d sought Mr. Jessup’s counsel. She covered her face with her hands and gave into the tears she’d valiantly held back until now.

  Sobs racked her body. Everything had gone terribly wrong. This morning she’d been full of hope and anticipation for the future. Now, there was emptiness in the pit of her stomach, and despair filled the rest of her.

  Amelia didn’t hear the door open until Mr. Jessup’s familiar presence settled beside her in the other chair and he handed her a pristine handkerchief. “I’ve made a muck of things.” She mopped at her face. What was she going to do?

  “I can honestly say I’ll never forget this Christmas Day, my lady.” Humor rode the butler’s voice. “I have a feeling it’s not over.”

  “Oh, but it is, Mr. Jessup.” Fresh tears fell and she didn’t try to stop them. Instead, she twisted the handkerchief in her fingers. “Lord Winchester is gone, and instead of saying goodbye, I hurled horrible words at him, precipitating his departure.”

  “That is unfortunate.” He heaved a sigh. “However, this is as good a time as any for me to confess.”

  “You lied to me too?” Amelia caught his gaze with hers while disappointment coiled in her gut. “Have I misjudged everyone in my life?”

  “You have not.” His smile was sad. “I was the one who wrote that invitation and sent it to Lord Winchester.”

  “I knew I didn’t do such a thing. But why would you?”

  He shrugged. “I remembered how you were with him the last time he was here, and then when you talked to me a few days ago, I was excited, for I thought you and the marquess could have made things work between you. That’s why I was keen he walk the grounds with you that morning.”

  “You are a hopeless romantic, Mr. Jessup. Yet seeing Cornelius again solidified my feelings for him. When he began courting me...” She let her words trail away and shook her head. “It’s too late. What he did all those years ago, what I said to him today... I think perhaps I’ve destroyed everything good our relationship held.”

  And that hurt the most. Once again, fear of the future and the prison of the past held her captive, and now she’d face the consequences of her actions.

  The butler patted her hand. “Why is this any different than what you held back from him? You confessed your secret, and eventually the hurt feelings were smoothed over.”

  She snorted. “After he was nearly murdered by poison, thanks to Lord Trenton.” Oh, the whole house party was a horrid mess. Then shock plowed into her. “How did you guess my secret?”

  “As I’ve said before, I’ve known you for a long time, and I knew what could have come from your last time with the marquess.” A compassionate smile wreathed his face. “Your marriage to the major occurred with more speed than finesse, and that could only mean one thing.” Again, he patted her hand. “I’m sorry for how that hope turned out.”

  Hot tears sprang to her eyes. “Me too.” No longer did she have the chance to have a portion of Cornelius’ legacy. “If I couldn’t have the man, his child was the next best thing, but fate took both away.”

  “Perhaps not.” Mr. Jessup straightened. “Both of those horrible secrets were a long time ago, my lady. You and he live in the now, and life is short, as you have had cause to see.” Honesty shone in his eyes. “Don’t waste the time you have left.”

  “It’s hopeless.” She dabbed at her eyes. “He won’t return a third time.” A sob welled in her throat and she stifled it. “You didn’t see the disappointment or resignation in his eyes...”

  “Do you love him, my lady?” Mr. Jessup asked in a low voice. His eyes were bright with questions.

  Did she? Yes. There was no doubt as to her feelings for him. She was wretched without him and she’d responded out of fear. It was a shortcoming and a bad habit to break. “Yes, I love him, and if truth be told, I’ve never stopped loving him in some capacity for thirteen years.”

  I’ve been such a fool.

  The butler nodded. His smile was as big as his good intentions. “Then tell him. Fight for him. After all, it’s Christmas and the time of miracles.”

  “What if he doesn’t feel the same about me?”

  “If a man is in love, he’ll only want the best for you... even if that doesn’t include him.”

  That was Cornelius in a nutshell. Fight for him. Could she? Should she? She stared at the butler as the truth of his words sank into her emotion-riddled brain. “Do you think it would make a difference?”

  Mr. Jessup rose smoothly to his feet and he drew her up with him. “My lady, how would you feel if the marquess fought to keep you in his life after he’d wronged you?”

  “I’d feel wonderful. I’d feel... loved.” Did he love her? He hadn’t said the exact words, but the way he treated her indicated that he did. Would he appreciate a few amateur theatrics on her part? Perhaps if she laid her feelings and heart at his feet. She met Mr. Jessup’s gaze as her heart pounded behind her ribcage. “Where is he?” Oh, please say he was delayed in packing.

  “When I came here, his coach was being fitted with his luggage. The marquess is quite efficient. No doubt he is leaving as we speak.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Will you take the leap, my lady, and perhaps finally let yourself have happiness?” Then he winked. “And let this poor old man stop worrying over you?”

  Amelia laughed through her tears and threw her arms around her faithful butler even as her stomach clenched with anxiety. “Yes, or at least I’ll do my level best.” When she pulled away, she blew out a breath and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Find the clergyman and persuade him to stay for another half hour. Will you help me, Mr. Jessup?”

  “Always, my lady. Oh, there is this.”
He rooted behind his desk and withdrew Cornelius’ cane. “We found this in the ballroom while setting up for the picnic. No doubt Lord Winchester would like it back.” He grinned like a fool.

  Perhaps they all needed to be a bit insane in order to survive life sometimes.

  “Thank you.” She took the cane from him and then ran from the kitchens as if the hounds of hell were after her. Please, please, please let Cornelius have been delayed. For she couldn’t contemplate a future without him in it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cornelius sat back against the squabbed bench of his traveling coach and closed his eyes. His heart pained him. Why the hell was he still alive if the organ in question ached so badly? Leaving Amelia this time was the most difficult endeavor he’d ever undertaken, for he knew deep down in his shredded soul he wouldn’t see her again.

  He’d lost. That’s what the whole trip had amounted to. Sometimes, regardless of how a man felt, he didn’t win the hand of the lady. It was life; recovering from that failure would no doubt prove a long road.

  Once more he was alone. The only difference between now and when he’d made the trip to the country from London was, he’d had hope then. That had been effectively shattered and those pieces glittered among the remains of his heart.

  As the coach wheels rattled over the curved gravel drive, he drummed his fingertips upon a knee. I deserved her ire. In hindsight, he should have been forthright enough to tell Amelia thirteen years ago that he’d paid Peter’s commission. At least then there wouldn’t have been a potential second chance between them, and he wouldn’t have made a cake of himself over her.

  Nor would he have fallen in love with her all over again, for it was foolish to deny it at this late date. Before, he’d only been besotted, but he’d lost his heart to her the day she’d fallen through the frozen pond and into the icy water. He thought it had meant something, assumed she’d felt the same this morning when she’d come to his rescue.

  But she’d trampled that heart beneath the heel of her satin shoe as if he’d never mattered.