“How can you be so relaxed when the household is in disarray?”
“Little will come from a sense of panic.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” Though in truth his composed attitude calmed her pulse significantly. “Thank you.” She smiled a little easier.
“I’d like to speak to your grandfather. Have you seen him about?”
“I left him in his study. He was looking through correspondence left unattended.”
“Thank you then.”
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek before he left, meant to invoke further peacefulness, no doubt, but it didn’t last.
Alberts bustled by with a huge bouquet of hothouse flowers, two footmen in his shadow with ornate vases that overflowed with blooms of every color. With a renewed burst of determination, she followed after them, ticking her fingers as she mentally reviewed the endless list of preparations. At least she had another two days’ time.
* * *
“Lord Talbot.” Matthew entered the earl’s study, gladdened to have found him alone. A conversation was overdue. An important one, at that. Matthew planned to propose to Theodosia on Christmas Eve, and keeping with honor and tradition, sought to ask her grandfather’s permission. He closed the double doors behind him and walked toward the earl with a smile. “Will you spare me a moment?”
“Of course.” Talbot beckoned him forward with a matched expression of welcome.
The last few days had been domestic bliss without mishap or misery. Talbot seemed unusually clearheaded, no matter the estate was in a state of chaos due to Theodosia’s overthinking and overplanning. It was difficult not to tease her, but Matthew respected her genuine concern even though none was warranted. Amelia would be the last person to voice a disparaging word at being considered different. Her husband, Scarsdale, was of like mind.
Besides, he took great pleasure in relieving Theodosia’s tension each night when she snuck into his guest room.
“How can I help you, Whittingham? Your visit has spurred new life into our holiday celebration. I’m enjoying every bit of it. Thank you.” Talbot gestured to the brandy decanter on the sideboard, but Matthew declined as they took opposing chairs. This was too important. Perhaps they’d toast the impending marriage when the matter was settled.
“As you already know, I’m very fond of your granddaughter. Our friendship has grown since that first winter night when I showed up on your doorstep in acceptance of your invitation.”
“Indeed.” Talbot’s brows flinched the slightest. “It seems like a long time ago, but I remember it clearly. At times, my mind plays tricks.”
“I understand.” Matthew nodded thoughtfully. “With Christmas Eve only two nights away, I’d like your permission to propose to Theodosia. I have every reason to believe she will have me.” A spike of excitement shot through him as he said the words. This was something he wanted more than his next breath.
Talbot remained quiet a beat too long, and as the silence stretched a shadow of unease overrode Matthew’s heightened anticipation.
“Is something wrong?” Matthew hurried on. “If you have any doubt of my solvency or ability to care for your granddaughter, I’ll instruct my solicitor to forward a copy of my financial records. I love Theodosia sincerely and will protect her with my life.”
Talbot stood and walked to the writing desk near the far window. He didn’t say anything and his reluctance to speak unhinged Matthew’s patience. He stood now too, prepared to list every reason why he’d honor and cherish Theodosia all their shared days, her happiness his singular purpose. His mouth pressed tight in a grimace of distress when Talbot shook his head in the negative.
“You’re too late, Whittingham.”
He mustn’t have heard Talbot correctly. The words didn’t make sense. “Too late? How so?”
“I signed a marriage contract last night granting Lord Kirkman permission for Theodosia’s hand. He led me to believe they had an understanding and that you were for London after the holidays, committed to your Society and determined to stay in the city. Theodosia dislikes London. I remember her face from all those years ago when I persuaded her to go. I could never force her to that kind of life. She would suffer, far more than she’s already suffered these years.”
As each word met his ears, his heart drummed louder. Surely Theodosia knew nothing of the contract. What did Kirkman hope to achieve with his lies, besides heartache and anger? She would never agree. Kirkman couldn’t mean to steal her away, could he? The idea was laughable, the stuff of poorly written gothic novels. How had everything become so complicated, when only moments before he’d anticipated the start of his future happiness?
“Have you spoken to Theodosia about this?” His voice sounded distant, his mind at work to understand the most prudent way to proceed.
“No.” Talbot huffed a deep breath. “Kirkman insisted we keep it between us. He wants to surprise her at Christmas.”
“Indeed, it will be a surprise.” Matthew glanced over his shoulder to the closed doors and back again.
“He told me I’d given my word and I must have forgotten. Although we did talk once in the carriage.” Talbot shook his head, his expression drawn as he clasped his hands together. “I’ve done something wrong. I should have spoken to Theodosia first. I need to fix this. Do you think she’ll be displeased with this arrangement?”
“Yes.” Matthew stood and paced to the hearth, careful with his tone, not wishing to incite further upset. “This isn’t as complicated as it may appear. We simply . . . I mean, you simply need to speak to Kirkman and explain he can spare himself the embarrassment of a refusal by tossing the contract into the firebox. Once the matter is settled, I will propose and things will continue on their intended course.” He said this aloud to convince himself as much as Lord Talbot that it all could be accomplished so easily.
“Kirkman was emphatic he needed to marry.”
“That may be so, but Theodosia won’t be his bride.”
“I will send him a message at once.” Talbot returned to the writing desk and withdrew a sheet of paper and his pen. “I’ll ask him to visit us here at Leighton House tomorrow before the festivities get under way.”
“The sooner, the better.” Matthew curled his hands into fists at his sides, anxious to obviate even the slightest tension. “And let’s not upset Theodosia with this wrinkle in the plan. She’s already distracted with unnecessary worry over my sister’s visit. I wouldn’t wish to add to her distress.”
With any luck Talbot would defuse the situation and Kirkman would acquiesce with no impact on the holidays. If not, Matthew was prepared to take the matter into his own hands. Theodosia belonged to him and him alone. He wouldn’t have some half-mad dandy ruining Christmas, never mind the beginning of the rest of his life.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was half noon when Theodosia returned from the orangery. She’d taken Matthew’s advice and sought a few minutes of respite from the chaos she’d incited with her desire to perfect every detail in preparation for the Duke and Duchess of Scarsdale. She still wanted everything neatly arranged, but appreciated the stolen peace found among the plants and animals, if only short-lived. She was exhausted, body and mind, and pushed herself to continue, conjuring an air of control as Alberts approached her in the front hall.
“Milady.”
“Yes?” She hoped he had a reporting of the servants she’d sent to purchase extra essentials and menu delicacies for Cook.
“The carriages have returned and are being unloaded at the rear door of the kitchen.”
“Excellent.” At least something proceeded as intended. “Is there anything else, Alberts?”
He seemed reluctant to continue. “I’m afraid so.”
She searched the austere butler’s unusual expression for a clue to what troubled him.
“I’ve been informed by the house drivers that an elaborate barouche with the Scarsdale insignia emblazoned on the door was spotted at the top of the
Leighton House drive.”
“What?” A loud humming began in her ears. Her mind blanked before she reclaimed clarity. “There must be some mistake. Our guests aren’t due to arrive until the day after tomorrow. Late. For dinner.”
Alberts watched her closely, his mouth tight with a frown. “Might there have been a change of plans?”
“No.” She glanced down at her yellow day gown. A long, dark smudge of something angled along the left side of her ribcage, her shirts wrinkled and dusty. “No.” She touched her hair, not surprised to discover she’d lost several pins in her rush about the estate. “No, no, no, no.” She stepped backward as if by separation she could alter reality. “This isn’t supposed to happen. The house isn’t ready. I’m not ready.”
“Ready for what?” Matthew entered the foyer as Alberts took his leave. “Another of my kisses? Is that what has you in this agitated state?”
At the sound of his rich tenor, she lifted her head and they matched eyes. She would have appreciated his cheerful teasing and claimed the kiss he offered if the threat of disastrous disappointment hadn’t crowded in with ferocity.
“Your sister and the duke are due any moment.” She rubbed her temple while she hemmed her lower lip. “Alberts said their equipage was seen on the drive. Their arrival is imminent.”
The rumble of carriage wheels on gravel overrode the end of her sentence.
Matthew smiled and reached for her hand.
She startled as he tugged her into the adjoining corridor for what she suspected was private reassurance or a few well-meant directions.
“You needn’t worry. The house looks like a festive tapestry. The kitchen is filled with a multitude of divine aromas, all which promise extraordinary culinary fare. Amelia and Scarsdale will adore you.” He paused. “I know I do.”
“You do?” She looked up into his golden-brown gaze and relaxed considerably.
“Yes.” He traced the pad of his thumb across her cheek, his voice low and silky. “And so much more. Theodosia, I must tell you, I—”
“The Duke and Duchess of Scarsdale.”
She gasped as Alberts’s voice boomed across the entry hall. She’d never heard him sound so regal.
“I don’t want to embarrass you. I’m not like the refined London ladies who usually keep your company.”
“Thank heavens for that.”
“But I can’t—”
His mouth found hers and rendered her speechless for more than one reason. The kiss demanded her attention and effectively forced her into a lovely calm. Too soon he pulled away, his breath warm against her forehead. He squeezed her hands as he released her.
“Now let’s discover what’s brought my sister here early without so much as a message of warning. I’ve found she’s best tolerated in small doses.” He smiled, his eyes agleam with mirth as he placed her hand on his arm and they walked together toward the hall.
* * *
Only by strength and concentration did Matthew divide his emotions. His mind still worked through the unexpected and infuriating discovery that Lord Talbot had signed a betrothal agreement foisted on him by Kirkman. Had Kirkman manipulated Talbot and taken advantage of the earl’s dementia? It would be the most heinous maneuver to advance one’s goal by taking advantage of another’s disability. He cast a fleeting glance at his leg, the tap of his walking stick on the tiles a constant reminder he fell into that category of vulnerability. Never would he be held back by his impairment, and damn anyone who tried to diminish him because of it.
As if that wasn’t maddening enough, he’d happened upon Theodosia in the front hall, her usual confident demeanor reduced to insecurity and hesitation. It had proven too much to bear. He’d needed that kiss as much as she, albeit for different reasons. Tonight, he would confess his feelings. Too much time had passed and he no longer wished to keep his sentiments bottled inside.
The arrival of Amelia and Scarsdale proved a diversion, though it splintered his attention further. All precisely laid plans were unraveling with reckless speed, and he didn’t like the disorganization.
“Welcome to Leighton House.”
Theodosia fell into a deep curtsy, but Amelia clasped her hand and returned her to standing, only to pull her forward in a loose embrace.
“Please,” Amelia chided. “I wish for us to share a splendid holiday. There’s no need to fuss.” She glanced to her husband at her side. “Scarsdale, this is Lady Theodosia.”
“Scarsdale.” Matthew drew the duke aside after he’d greeted Theodosia. “You caught us unaware. We expected your arrival in two days’ time.”
“Please pardon our early visit. It’s my fault completely,” Amelia interrupted. “My dearest friend, Charlotte, Lady Dearing, entered her lying-in earlier than expected. The physician advised she stay off her feet, confined to her bedchamber until the baby is due. There seemed no need to remain. I’d hoped to help with her preparations for the upcoming birth, but then everything changed. I suggested we set out apace for Leighton House instead of waiting in London. Everyone has scattered for the holidays to spend time with their loved ones and I wanted to be with my family as well. I’m still not pleased Mother and Father decided to extend their travel through the New Year.”
“With Father’s health much improved, they sought a change of scenery, no doubt.” Matthew added. “Charlotte is doing well then?”
“Yes, quite so. Lord Dearing is beside himself with anticipation of becoming a father and has the household more than ready,” Amelia continued. “Otherwise we would never impose. I hope our early arrival hasn’t caused an inconvenience.”
“Not at all.” Theodosia managed a smile, though she snuck another look at her wrinkled dress. “We’re delighted to have your company.”
Matthew watched the interaction closely. Theodosia didn’t appear nearly as nervous as before, although she remained too quiet for his liking, her words carefully measured. He thought to intercede.
“Well, as long as you’re prepared for a bit of slapdash attention this evening, I’m sure we’ll get on with no trouble at all. Lord Talbot is in his study. Perhaps I can persuade you to have a brandy, Scarsdale, and I’ll make introductions.”
“No persuasion needed, and please don’t set the staff at odds. The duchess and I require nothing more than a roof over our heads and a hot tray of food taken in our rooms. Together in the carriage for several hours, Amelia’s enthusiasm has been”—he paused and his voice acquired a teasing note—“unhampered to say the least.”
They shared a laugh at Scarsdale’s jest and it eased the tension another notch.
“To the study then.” Matthew gestured to the right with his walking stick before speaking to the ladies. “I trust you’ll be right as rain.”
“How ridiculous, Matthew,” Amelia answered quickly. “You needn’t worry about me.”
“You? Hardly.” His voice followed him as he left the foyer with Scarsdale. “I was speaking to Theodosia.”
* * *
“You’re not at all as I expected.” Theodosia’s face warmed as she imagined how her words sounded, but she hadn’t a chance to consider it long.
“Did Matthew portray me in a poor light?” Amelia donned a look of sibling annoyance. “I love my brother, but he can be stubborn when he sets his mind to something. Still, he’s changed of late. I’d like to believe I brought about his new view of life with my recent marriage.” Her expression transformed into one of pride.
“He’s spoken very highly of you both.”
Nicolaus sauntered into the front hall, his whiskers and tail a-twitch in the sunlight.
“Oh, who is this fine fellow?” Amelia lowered to the tiles, her hand extended to welcome the striking feline.
“Nicolaus Catpernicus.” Theodosia took a deep breath. Perhaps she’d worked herself into a state for no reason. Amelia seemed lovely and not at all as pretentious as Theodosia had assumed. “He’s one of my closest companions.”
“I could tell he was important as soon
as I laid eyes on him. My cat, Pandora, is my dearest friend, aside from Charlotte, and Scarsdale, of course.” She rubbed Nicolaus between his ears and the cat bowed his head with pleasure. “Such a handsome boy with a clever name. It sounds like something Matthew would suggest.” She stood and smiled in Theodosia’s direction. “You two must think alike.”
Despite her lengthy travel and having crouched down low with several layers of skirts and underskirts to pet Nicolaus, Amelia looked flawless, from the beautiful dark ringlets on her perfectly coiffed head to her silk embroidered slippers. Her eyes glinted green, with a sparkle that could only be caused by an inner glow of happiness. She resembled Matthew in hair color and height, yet Theodosia much preferred his golden-brown gaze and the way it caused all kinds of warm feelings inside her.
“If you enjoy cats, I suspect we’ll get along swimmingly.” She found an easy smile, much relieved from the gut-wrenching anticipation she’d tortured herself with the last few days.
“Oh.” Amelia sounded genuinely surprised. “Had you worried? I knew all along we’d be wonderful friends. Matthew may be the singular most particular male on the planet, and to have chosen you, well, that speaks loudest of all.”
Theodosia didn’t know how to reply to that, though her cheeks surely turned crimson. He’d chosen her? What did that mean exactly? Granted, they’d become intimately involved since he’d arrived, and her heart was tightly bound to his, but so many aspects of their relationship remained uncertain. She recalled how adamantly he’d confessed his feelings when they’d visited the British Museum and how she’d refused to accept his words. Her view on that decision had altered greatly. If only he would confess those words again, she’d accept them and return her own heartfelt sentiments.
Yet if he’d shared his fondness for her with his sister, it wasn’t a matter to be taken lightly. Did she dare believe? Perhaps this Christmas all her hopes and dreams would solidify. Grandfather was much improved and she’d fallen hopelessly, helplessly in love with a wonderful man. All those years of quiet holidays and dismal remembrances through January, of wishing and wondering if her life would ever be more than endless longing and unfulfilled imaginings, seemed necessary now. She wanted to embrace that fragile trust with both hands and hold on tight before it vanished. Love did that to a person. It caused one to invest in the impossible if one was brave enough to take a chance.
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