Tempting A Marquess for Christmas: A Steamy Regency Romance Book 5

by Georgette Brown

  “Millie, why are we discussing Mr. Winston?” Mrs. Abbott asked. “His lordship has made known his opinion.”

  “His opinion may be misplaced,” Mildred replied. “Perhaps if he took the time to better acquaint himself with Mr. Winston—”

  “You may save your breath, Miss Abbott. I have no desire to better acquaint myself with Mr. Winston.”

  “But then how will he prove himself to you?”

  “That is not a concern that troubles me. But there is one way to prove his intentions. Let us remove the dowry and see if his interests remain true.”

  Mildred straightened in indignation. “I am certain it shall! Despite what you may think of him, avarice is not a prevailing trait.”

  Her ready defense of Winston vexed him, and he made no reply.

  “There, that is the wisdom of Solomon,” Mrs. Abbott praised.

  “Mr. Carleton began to take an interest only after my dowry had been raised,” Millie said, “yet you do not condemn him.”

  “I will look into the character of Mr. Carleton,” Alastair voiced, “but Mr. Winston will not have a penny of your dowry.”

  “It will not matter to him!”

  Alastair tightened his grip on his teacup. This was madness. Why was she so stalwart in her defense of the man, especially if she knew his past?

  “You would marry without a dowry?”

  “I would.”

  Mrs. Abbott looked horrified. “Millie! Stop this nonsense! Mr. Abbott, you have heard his lordship. You would not approve a proposal from Mr. Winston.”

  “No, of course not,” Mr. Abbott answered. “I have the highest regard for Lord Alastair. And as he is the benefactor, his opinion prevails.”

  Alastair looked back to Mildred. He saw a stubborn set to her jaw, but she made no further objections. Having made himself clear, he indicated he would take his leave. Mrs. Abbott attempted to persuade him to stay, till Mr. Abbott told her that surely his lordship had more important matters than to while away the time with them, to which Mrs. Abbott then heartily agreed and said that they would not detain him further.

  Mildred bid him farewell with a silent curtsy, but he noticed the frown upon her countenance had not left her. As the carriage took him back to Mayfair, Alastair considered if he should have divulged more details of Winston’s past. He should not have had to. Millie’s parents had given no objections. But Millie had remained steadfast in her own opinions of Winston. Perhaps the reason she was blind to the man’s possible faults was because she had fallen in love with him. The thought made Alastair grind his teeth.

  Her reactions concerned him greatly. More needed to be done to address the situation.

  Chapter 27

  “THIS IS MOST UNFORTUNATE,” Mrs. Abbott declared. “What will her ladyship think?”

  “Millie does look pale,” Mr. Abbott said. “Come, we had best depart soon or we shall be late.”

  “Give my regards and, of course, my regrets to Lady Katherine,” Mildred said weakly from her bed.

  “How is it you should fall ill on Christmas!” Mrs. Abbott lamented for the fourth time, but, with many sighs, she followed her husband.

  When Mildred heard the sound of their carriage pull away, she leaped out of her bed and dressed in better traveling clothes. She pulled out the valise she had packed earlier. It was a small one and could only fit a few of her garments, but a larger one would prove too cumbersome. She had a few hours to make her way to the designated posting inn outside London. From there, she and Mr. Winston would make their way to Gretna Green.

  “Elope?” Mr. Winston had echoed in great surprise when she had intercepted him a few blocks from the Abbott home earlier that day. “Am I not to ask your father for your hand in marriage?” .

  ”It is the only way,” she had explained. “Father will not give his consent. Not after Alastair threatened to retract the dowry.”

  “Retract the dowry? Are you certain?”

  “He came to tea yesterday and spoke quite forcibly. He claims he heard complaints of your character in your time at Oxford, but when I pressed him for specifics, he provided none and admitted he has no direct knowledge of you.”

  “That is distressing to hear,” Winston had said, appearing deep in thought. “I own I was hardly perfect in my youth, but what he had heard must have been quite serious for him to make such a declaration.”

  “Well, it matters not. I asserted that you were not the sort to marry for money. Alastair deserves a proper scolding, but it is useless, he pays little heed to anyone.”

  “There must be some way to convince him that I have only honorable intentions toward you.”

  “He believes that removing the dowry is the only way to prove you truly care for me.”

  Troubled, he furrowed his brow. “But eloping will not improve matters. We had better attempt to reason with your cousin.”

  “In truth, I have no desire to. I had asked him to retract the dowry long ago. I’ve no wish for his money. It only affords him the opportunity to interfere in my affairs. You say you have sufficient income for a modest living, and I have no wish for more. I am quite accustomed and content with a humble life, and making economies does not frighten me.”

  “Millie, eloping is no small matter and will greatly upset your family.”

  “The sort of man they wish me to marry would certainly make me unhappy. I could not do it. It is my hope that, in time, my mother and father will love me enough to forgive me.”

  George had continued to make other arguments against eloping, but she was determined and eventually wore him down. She appreciated that he was concerned for her welfare and her honor, but the sooner she set upon her new path in life, the better.

  “We could be wed within the day at Hyde Park Corner...” she suggested.

  “No, no, if we are to elope, we ought to—perhaps—well, let us make it a grand adventure and make for Gretna Green.”

  “Gretna Green? Is that necessary?”

  “We should go where we cannot be found till after we are wed.”

  Mildred nodded. “Very well. I do not require much packing.”

  “And we should meet outside of London so that we are not seen by anyone known to us. There is an inn on the road to Scotland, the Boar’s Head.”

  They agreed to meet on Christmas, when her family would be with Lady Katherine and not notice her absence for many hours. That night at dinner, Mildred could barely eat as she considered how much she would miss her mother and father, and what their reactions must be when they discovered what she had done. She trusted her father would not disown her, but it might be some time before she would be admitted into their house.

  Lady Katherine, too, would be wounded that she had not been brought into Mildred’s confidence, but Mildred feared her ladyship’s discouragement. Though Lady Katherine might form a favorable opinion of Mr. Winston, and Mildred suspected she would, her ladyship would undoubtedly urge patience, perhaps even offering to speak to Alastair.

  But Mildred wanted an end to the tormenting feelings that gripped her whenever she thought of her cousin. In truth, she had fallen a little in love with him at Château Follet. She had not wanted to acknowledge it, and their time at Edenmoor had only deepened her feelings for him.

  Mildred slept fitfully that night. Christmas morning could not arrive soon enough.

  “IT IS CHRISTMAS DAY, my lord,” said Alastair’s housekeeper.

  “Food and money, then,” Alastair replied to her inquiry as to what should be given to the wassail before dismissing her. He remained seated behind his writing table but retained a view of the gentleman who sat opposite on the sofa. “Do you love her?”

  “I have a great fondness for Miss Abbott,” Winston replied after a pause.

  Alastair stared at the man as if he could see past the façade and into his heart.

  “I care for her greatly and would endeavor to make her happy to the best of my effort,” Winston added. “That would seem sufficient to qualify for love.�
�

  Alastair felt his body tighten. His next question was the more difficult one. “And does she love you?”

  Winston was more quick to answer this one. “Yes, and I am grateful and honored to receive her affections.”

  If the quill he held had been made of sturdier material, it would've snapped beneath Alastair’s grip.

  “A man of your charms could have a woman of superior qualities.”

  “You flatter me, my lord, but I am more than content with Miss Abbott. She is an intelligent creature, and her company quite enjoyable.”

  “She is of middling beauty, her figure imperfect.”

  “I do not see that to be the case, my lord. She may not have the loveliest of countenances and her form is perhaps not so slender, but I would not say she is not comely.”

  “Her family is of inferior breeding.”

  “My family is not so superior that I would criticize her background. She is fortunate, however, to be connected to your family.”

  “The benefits are not as great as they may seem. I erred in my generosity with her, and thus have reconsidered the dowry I was to provide her.”

  “May I ask what has prompted this decision?”

  “It has come to my attention that her dowry has attracted unsavory suitors. If the dowry is lacking, then we may be assured that the man who still wishes to marry her is sincere in his affections.”

  “What of her happiness?”

  A muscle rippled along Alastair's jaw. Of all men, why had she chosen Winston?

  “I am willing to care for her as well as any man can care for his wife. And if she would be happy with me, I fail to see the wrong in this.”

  “Then you would wed her without a dowry?”

  Winston said nothing and would not meet his eye. “I do not think it wise for us to marry in that case.”

  “Without a dowry, she no longer holds your interest. I think I see the extent of your affections, sir.”

  Winston looked up at him. “You would punish a member of your own family in so harsh a manner?”

  “She is a cousin by marriage only, and marrying you, sir, would be the greater punishment.”

  Winston drew in a sharp breath. “Does her happiness mean so little to you?”

  “Are you so certain she will be happy with you?”

  “She loves me.”

  “You are certain of this?”

  “She does not care for your dowry. She will have me without it. Indeed, we plan to elope. Today, in fact.”

  Alastair leaped to his feet. “Elope? On Christmas? I find it hard to believe that Miss Abbott would disrespect her family in this manner.”

  “Perhaps you underestimate her affections for me.”

  Alastair wanted to wring the man's neck.

  “It was her idea. I tried to dissuade her from it. I had thought it would be more reasonable to attempt to persuade you of the virtues of our marriage, but she was adamant.”

  “And you mean to see this elopement through?”

  Winston straightened. “I may yet convince her to abandon her impulsive suggestion.”

  Alastair narrowed his eyes. “You have no desire to marry Miss Abbott without her dowry.”

  Winston lifted his chin. “Perhaps I will elope with her.”

  “I think not, for if it is funds you seek, I will make it worth your while to stay your distance from her: an annuity of a hundred pounds a year. Marry her and you will have nothing.”

  “That is a paltry sum, especially for a man of your means.”

  “It is more than you’re worth, but marry Millie, and you receive nothing. Or would you prefer that I bring all my resources to bear against you? If I choose to, I can see you turned out of every door in polite society.”

  Winston’s bottom lip quivered. “I accept your proposal, Lord Alastair, and will let Miss Abbott's happiness fall upon your conscience.”

  Alastair drew the note he had prepared and thrust it into Winston’s hands. “That is your first installment. You may communicate with my solicitor hereafter. Now get out before I throw you out.”

  Winston did not need to be told twice and strode out with as much dignity as a man of his character could bear.

  Alastair fisted his hand, regretting he had not been given a provocation to box the man’s ears in. He went to sit at his table but was too restless to remain seated.

  Damnation.

  Though he was glad to have rid Millie of Winston, he doubted she would be pleased at his intrusion. She did not understand that he acted for her benefit.

  Her commitment to Winston still stunned him. Mildred was not the sort of silly young woman to fall in love with a handsome face and charming manners. Only one explanation remained for why she would disregard what he had done in his time at Oxford: she was deeply in love with the man.

  His chest constricted at the thought, and he felt an ache surge in his groin. Winston was the last man he would see Millie with. Though he doubted this Mr. Carleton would be any worthier, if he had earned her contempt. He could think of no man he would be content to see her marry, but, for her sake, he would make an effort to see the better qualities in her other suitors. He did not wish to see her unhappy. If she knew the sincerity of his intentions, she might better be able to forgive him.

  He rang for his hat and gloves. The Abbotts would be with Katherine for Christmas dinner.

  Chapter 28

  KATHERINE HAD DECORATED her home in holly, rosemary and ivy. As he took notice of the greenery, Alastair wondered why Katherine had chosen to celebrate Christmas with more fanfare this year rather than confine the holiday to the customary acts of charity.

  “What a pleasant surprise,” Katherine remarked. “I have hopes that perhaps you mean to amend your strained relations with your family.”

  “Such efforts are better aided by my absence rather than my presence,” he replied.

  He greeted the family members already present: Edward, his wife and sons; Harriet, her husband and newborn babe; his sisters and their husbands.

  When he came to the Abbotts, he inquired, “Where is Miss Abbott?”

  “Alas, she took ill after the Christmas service,” answered Mrs. Abbott.

  Guilt twisted in his bosom. Had she fallen ill from a broken heart after learning that she was not to wed Mr. Winston?

  “She seemed weak during the service, “Mr. Abbott said to his wife. “I hope it is nothing serious.”

  Alastair frowned. “When did your service conclude?”

  “I would say eleven o'clock.”

  “And she was already ill?”

  “She was slow in her steps and put her hand often to her brow.”

  “She would have made every effort to come,” said Mrs. Abbott, “if she were not feeling so poorly.”

  Alastair recalled that he had met with Mr. Winston about one o'clock. Her illness then was not due to the news Mr. Winston had to break to her.

  This provided no solace to Alastair, for something seemed amiss. Millie and Winston had planned to elope today. Would Winston still intend to do so despite the offer he had accepted?

  Alastair pulled his aunt aside. “Have you heard from Millie?”

  “Not in some time, though I had invited her to tea several times.”

  “She has not written you? Or spoken of a man named George Winston?”

  “I have heard nothing from her. In truth, I'm quite surprised that I have not, but I understand from her mother that she has been busy entertaining various suitors. Who is this gentleman you speak of?”

  “A man not worthy of being called a gentleman.” A sense of urgency haunted him. “They had planned to elope today.”

  Katherine blinked in surprise. “Elope? Millie? This is unlike her. And not to have said a word to me. I am astonished.”

  “Are you? But you were not astonished that she would go to the Château Debauchery with you?”

  “That is different. An elopement will alter her life. How do you know of this Winston fellow and th
eir elopement?”

  “Because I had expressly forbid her continued acquaintance with him and threatened to revoke the dowry if they married.”

  “You said this to her?”

  “And to her parents. Winston is a dangerous fellow.”

  Katherine furrowed her brow. “In what manner?”

  “In the severest of manners.”

  “Millie is unaware of this?”

  “She is not, but would have him nonetheless.” His whole body tensed. “She must be quite in love with him.”

  His aunt stared at him keenly. “And that vexes you?”

  “That she would disregard my advice and elope with a man who will most certainly cause her ruin or grief? That she would fail to appreciate my generosity in providing for her dowry by running off with Winston?”

  “And is that all that troubles you?”

  “What do you imply, madam?”

  “You think I do not know what happened during Michaelmas?”

  He started. He was in disbelief until she smiled.

  “I had hoped to speak to Millie about what transpired. She had seemed dispirited after you left Edenmoor. I thought perhaps she had fallen in love with you.”

  “Millie? With me?”

  “And you with her.”

  He straightened. “Madam, you are a romantic.”

  “Do you deny it?”

  “Even if true, it is of no consequence. Millie is in love with Winston, and I fear they may carry out this elopement. “

  “If he is as bad as you say, you must stop them.”

  He nodded. “But speak not of this to Mr. and Mrs. Abbott. I do not wish to alarm them unnecessarily. I will take my leave without bidding adieu to the others.”

  “Of course. Godspeed, Alastair.”

  He could not receive his garrick, hat and gloves fast enough. When his carriage pulled up before the Abbott residence, he was out the vehicle before it had come to a complete stop.

  “Where is Miss Abbott?” he asked the maid who answered the door.

  “In her room resting,” the surprised woman replied.

  He whisked past the servant. “I will see her—in her room, if she is too ill to leave it.”