"As you wish, sir," Hughes replied, and left the room reluctantly. Nigel would have bet a guinea that the man was going to be back to check on him within the hour.
The olive green drapes were pulled tightly shut, but from what Hughes had told him, it was now snowing prodigiously, covering a thick layer of ice. Obviously Susan and her ghastly mama were not going to be leaving anytime in the near future.
Unfortunately, they were not the crux of his dilemma. He still had to resolve the matter of the mermaid pendant with Miss Winterhaven. That's going to be nearly impossible, he decided, pushing his damp, dark hair off his forehead. Whatever I do, Miss Winterhaven, Emily, will suspect my motives. If I befriend her, she'll believe that my only purpose was to recover the pendant. If I broach the subject now and she refuses, it could make the entire holiday uncomfortable for both of us. Then there's the fact that Roger is my younger brother. If she finds out that bit of gossip, my chances of retrieving the mermaid will be through. Of course, Father and Roger are probably having a dashed good time at home while I suffer the effects of this damnable curse. Why else would I be stricken with this miserable cold? Gads, this is an awful dilemma, he thought, staring around the empty room.
And how am I going to pass the time today? he wondered, looking around the luxuriant bedroom for some sort of book. There were none. There wasn't a newspaper to be found, or anything else that might help him while away the time. Of course, I can daydream about Emily, his mind replied, and he cursed his imagination. He had been daydreaming about Emily since the first time he saw her with that ridiculous puppy clutched to her milky white breasts.
A knock on his door brought him out of his highly improper imaginings, and he said, "Come in," confidently, before he sneezed again.
The heavy oak door opened slowly, and standing before his four-poster bed was Emily Winterhaven, as if his imagination had conjured her up for his pleasure.
Emily was wearing a very fetching cinnamon velvet morning gown with white lace at her wrists. Her long, auburn hair was pulled into a loose, thick braid, and her long, black lashes kissed her enormous green eyes. As he glanced behind her, he noticed a young woman in a white mobcap, probably her abigail, standing behind her.
"Good afternoon, Lord Stratford," Emily said in a soft voice. "Harriet said you weren't feeling quite the thing and I thought you might care for a game of cards," she said, glancing around the room that mirrored her own.
A magnificent smile lit up Nigel's harsh features. Maybe there isn't a curse after all, he decided, propping himself up in bed a bit more. "I think a game of cards is just what I need, Emily," he said, motioning her to come toward the bed. "Why don't you have your abigail bring that small table over?" he asked, glancing toward a delicately carved mahogany table in the far corner, near the window.
"Of course. Eliza?" she asked, and in one swift move the table was next to the bed and Emily was making herself comfortable on a chair of steel with copper and brass ornaments, covered in olive velvet that matched the dressing table.
"I do appreciate your company, Emily," he began, watching her long, delicate fingers shuffle the cards. "I thought I'd go mad if I were left alone any longer."
Emily smiled. "Yes, I know. My mama was taken ill a few years ago and was terribly lonely. I realize it's rather forward of me, but I did think you might enjoy a diversion," she explained, a delicate blush coming to her cheeks.
Nigel gazed at her, enraptured by her youthful beauty. She wasn't traditionally lovely, like Susan, but her beauty seemed to emanate from within, making her immensely more desirable. "What's your pleasure?" he asked softly, noting that she turned a darker shade of red.
"I thought a game of piquet might be nice," she said, glancing over at Eliza, who had taken a seat near the door.
"Then piquet it is," he said, picking up the cards she was dealing him.
As their game began, Nigel immediately realized that piquet wasn't Emily's forte, although she was a tolerable enough player. To keep her mind off the fact that she was losing, he asked, "So, what is the rest of the party doing for amusement today?"
Emily stared at her cards, quite vexed. "I don't know. I did see Susan and Aubrey having a coze earlier, and Henry was busy with some sort of estate business. Harriet is attending to something in the kitchen, and Lady Markston is still resting from her journey."
"I do hope Susan and Aubrey get on. He seems to be an eligible enough parti for her," he commented, throwing down another card. His color had returned somewhat, and he noticed that the slight fever he'd had was gone. Emily was also a cure-all for his diseases, he thought, a smile dancing on his lips.
"Have you known her for a long time?"
"Ages. Her family's estate borders my ancestral home. I've been seeing her a bit more frequently to placate my father, who is convinced I should be providing him with grandchildren as soon as possible," Nigel explained, running a free hand through his long, dark, wavy locks.
Emily smiled, her face lighting up. "I understand. My grandfather is constantly haranguing me about marriage. In fact, he is so desperate for great-grandchildren that he purchased me the most unique piece of jewelry that's supposed to help one make a happy match. I don't quite understand how a mermaid pendant is going to do that, but then again, what do I know?" she said philosophically, shrugging her shoulders.
Nigel could feel the muscles in his stomach knotting. She was talking about the Manning Mermaid. The jeweler had given her grandfather some Banbury tale about the pendant, which he had repeated. "I don't think I've ever seen a mermaid pendant," he said casually, shuffling the cards.
"It's very unusual—some might even say garish. I've become quite fond of it, though," she explained, picking up her cards. "Harriet liked it, although I have no idea when I can wear it without looking horribly overdressed," Emily confessed, playing a ten of hearts.
Nigel forced himself not to frown. Emily, of course, had become fond of the pendant. That was the story of his life.
Roger had found himself in some sort of fix, which was impossible to extricate him from. What was even worse was that he didn't particularly want to buy the pendant from Emily. She's more attached to the piece than I am, he thought traitorously. "I'm sure you'll have ample opportunity to show it off during the holiday season. Harriet and Henry have any number of entertainments planned, although I don't know how this ghastly weather will affect them," he concluded, winning another hand.
Emily looked at him with a smile. "Lord Stratford," she began, and he immediately interrupted.
"Nigel. Call me Nigel."
"Nigel, then," she said with a blush, "you're a Captain Sharp yourself. Whist may not be your game, but piquet certainly is," she proclaimed, gathering up the cards.
"Don't tell me you're quitting so soon?" he asked, disappointment etched on his features.
Her lips curved up in a soft, sensual smile. "Eliza and I really should be going. If anyone realizes how long we've been closeted up here playing cards, we'll be the talk of the house. Will you be coming down for dinner?" she asked, dragging the chair back to the dressing table.
"Yes, I think so," he said with a loud sneeze. "Excuse me. I do feel markedly better, so you can tell Harriet to have a place set for me," he said, hoping to find some reason for her to stay.
Emily moved to the door, her abigail behind her, and once again favored him with a smile that made his heart lurch in his chest. "I'll see you at dinner, then," she said, disappearing through the door like a specter.
"Are you feeling more the thing?" Susan asked, her blue eyes settling on Nigel as if he were a prized bull.
Nigel sipped his sherry thoughtfully, and finally replied, "Yes, I do feel considerably better. Emily was good enough to come by and divert me with a game of piquet, which I am heartily grateful for."
Susan glared across the table at Emily, who was still wearing her cinnamon velvet dress and looked much more a member of le beau monde. "You visited Nigel in his room? Isn't that rather… indiscr
eet?" she asked, picking at her poached salmon.
Emily looked up, and decided that Lady Susan Claredon was not going to ruin her Christmas holiday. "I think not. My maid was in attendance for the entire visit, and I thought that Lord Stratford—I'm sorry, Nigel—might be up for a card game. I'm surprised you didn't join us, since you must know how Nigel fancies a game of piquet," she finished, sipping her sherry.
A slight red tint colored Susan's face, and Emily knew that she had touched a nerve. She was certain that Susan had no idea that Nigel liked a good game of cards.
"Miss Winterhaven, you must be the same age as my Susan. Why haven't we met you in polite Society?" Lady Markston inquired, the feather on her Pamona green turban bobbing as she spoke.
"Emily has been traveling," Harriet explained, throwing Lady Markston a dark look.
Before Lady Markston could reply, Aubrey, resplendent in a blue velvet coat with a gold satin waistcoat and a silk cravat tied in the Oriental style, interrupted. "You look lovely tonight, Susan," he began. "Will you be favoring us with some more songs later in the evening?" he asked, fingering the enormous diamond that decorated his cravat.
"Yes, that's a wonderful idea!" Lady Markston replied, eating half of her salmon in one mouthful. "There is nothing more entertaining than listening to a female with an excellent voice," she proclaimed, beaming at her daughter.
"Your daughter's talents are remarkable, Lady Markston," Harriet began, her eyes full of fire, "but we can hardly expect her to amuse us every evening," she concluded, every inch the hostess of the house party.
"Nigel, do you feel up to playing?" Henry asked casually, filling his plate with the saddle of mutton that had just arrived.
Nigel glanced over at Emily, who was staring into her plate, barely taking part in the conversation. If he didn't play, it was apparent to everyone that Susan would be singing like a canary for the entire evening, to the delight of Aubrey and Lady Markston. So he replied, "Of course," and smiled at the venomous look that he received from Lady Markston.
"Oh Nigel, you play so beautifully," Susan murmured, practically slavering over him.
Nigel looked up from the mahogany pianoforte and met Emily's clear green eyes. "I'd be interested to hear your opinion, Emily," he said softly, all but ignoring Susan in the process.
"What would Miss Winterhaven know, Nigel? The chit doesn't even move in the ton. How can she judge anyone's playing, for that matter?" Lady Markston asked, making it obvious to all that she did not particularly care about offending Emily.
"Lady Markston," Harriet began in a patient voice, "Emily is a dear friend of mine and I'd be gratified if you kept that fact in mind while you're at my home. She is also an accomplished musician, and has played before the Czar," she finished, glaring at Lady Markston.
There was a long pause as the entire party stared at Lady Markston. "My apologies, Miss Winterhaven," Lady Markston replied in an insincere tone, obviously hoping to placate Harriet.
"Emily?" Nigel asked in an intimate voice, staring at the beautiful young woman sitting across the room from him.
Emily blushed as the attention of the entire party turned to-ward her. "You play beautifully, as I'm sure everyone present would agree," she said, noting how handsome he looked sitting at the pianoforte.
"And will you play for us?" he asked, rising and walking toward her chair.
"Oh yes, do play something for us, Emily," Henry echoed, smiling at her in encouragement.
"All right," Emily said shyly, and walked over to the pianoforte and immediately became lost in her own world.
Suddenly, the unpleasantness of Lady Markston and all the uncomfortable feelings of the day disappeared as her fingers stroked the ivory keys beneath them. She played an obscure piece by Mozart from memory, and became one with the music, her body swaying with the delicate melody. Her body lost all of its stiffness, and all of the men in the room marveled at the beauty that suddenly seemed to radiate from the delicate woman at the pianoforte.
Nigel was completely entranced. He had never seen a woman play with so much passion or skill. Emily's entire being seemed to be transformed while she was at the instrument, and, try as he might, he could not tear his eyes away from the dark-haired figure before him. Her playing moved him incredibly, and he could feel his heart lurching in his breast.
When she finished, there was a brief silence; then Nigel said, "Why, Emily, you're a veritable virtuoso! No wonder you entranced the Czar." The admiration in his eyes was evident to all.
"Yes, you do play devilishly good, Emily," Aubrey added, glancing over at Susan, who was now in a full pout.
"You're very talented, Miss Winterhaven," Lady Markston conceded, and smiled over at Nigel. "And I'm sure your family must be very proud to have a musician amongst you. I know I'll be welcoming one into my family soon enough," she concluded, watching Nigel pale.
"Oh Mama, nothing is official," Susan said with a giggle, glancing toward Nigel.
Nigel smiled benignly toward both ladies and commented, "You must introduce me to this musician of yours. I had no idea Susan had met an eligible parti. My congratulations."
Lady Markston and Susan both paled, and Aubrey decided that it was time to strike up a closer acquaintance with Susan. "There are the most wonderful medieval tapestries in the library, Susan," he commented. "I'd be honored if you'd let me show them to you."
Lady Markston almost gasped when her daughter smiled prettily and replied, "It would be my pleasure to accompany you, Aubrey," and sauntered out of the room with him.
"So, Aubrey, why did you wish to lure me into the library?" Susan asked, smoothing the wrinkles out of her gown.
Aubrey dragged the matching mahogany chair across from Susan's seat and made himself comfortable. "I was curious about something," he replied enigmatically, drinking in her enormous blue eyes.
Susan smiled at him coyly. "And what would that be? I do hope for your sake that you're not going to suggest something improper, since I know you do have the reputation of a rake," she concluded, batting her eyelashes at him.
"If I'm such a notorious libertine, then why are you taking such pains to entice me? Could it be because the object of your matrimonial affections pays no heed to you?" he replied, immediately noticing the look of concern on her face.
"I don't know what's wrong with Nigel. He was always most attentive and now he barely notices me. Me! I could have legions of men offering for me if I only encouraged them," Susan concluded vainly, and Aubrey was certain she believed every word she said.
"I rather think that your Nigel is developing a tendre for Emily Winterhaven."
Susan stood up and began to pace the library. "That little nothing! How could he be interested in her? There has to be some sort of reason that he's actually paying court to that bluestocking," Susan concluded, leaning against the zebra-wood inlaid writing table.
A slow, sensual smile appeared on Aubrey's full features. "What would you say if I told you I know the reason your Nigel is bothering with the bluestocking?"
"You do? What is it?" she asked passionately, sitting back down in the mahogany chair opposite Aubrey.
Both parties were so engrossed in their conversation that neither one noticed the wide-eyed little eavesdropper standing in the hall near the open door, listening to every word they said.
"Emily has in her possession a mermaid pendant that once belonged to Nigel. He's here to buy it back. If he doesn't get it back, there's some sort of ridiculous curse that's going to fall on his family," Aubrey explained, preening under the attention of the magnificently beautiful Susan.
"A pendant? He's courting her to get the pendant? Will she sell it to him?" Susan asked in rapt attention.
"From what I gather, that's unlikely to happen."
Susan sat stiffly in her chair, a frown wrinkling her brow. Finally she asked, "Do you think Nigel would leave the party early if he got the pendant?"
Aubrey shrugged. "Possibly. From what I've heard, that is the only re
ason he's here."
A magnificent smile appeared on Susan's face. "Then I have the solution. We'll simply borrow the pendant from Emily and return it to Nigel, who is the rightful owner. Then Nigel can return home with me once the weather clears," she proclaimed, looking like the cat who ate the cream.
Aubrey was vastly amused. Susan was a vain, manipulative woman concerned only with her own life, and it fascinated him. He realized that her plan would probably be unsuccessful, but was anxious to hear more. "How would you go about stealing the mermaid?"
"We would simply search her room when she was busy with some sort of activity that will keep her occupied for a time. Then, after we've found it, I'll give it back to Nigel. As a Christmas present, I think," she added, relaxing in the chair.
"And if you get caught?" Aubrey asked cautiously.
Susan raised an eyebrow and looked every inch the daughter of a peer. "We won't get caught. And if we do, it won't matter. Nigel will forgive me."
Obviously she knows nothing about Stratford, Aubrey thought, studying the beauty. It was known about Town that Stratford was a rather high stickler, and who wouldn't be, after living with his father, the madman? If Susan stole the pendant and later gave it to Nigel, he would very likely be completely scandalized with her behavior, Aubrey mused, a slow smile coming onto his face. And if Nigel throws her over, then I will have a clear field for my courtship. Yes, this plan will work out very well, he concluded mentally.
"Aubrey, are you attending? What do you think?"
"I think it's a grand idea, Susan, and you're completely right. Emily Winterhaven isn't the rightful owner of the pendant, so it should be returned to Nigel. And I think it's rather shameful the way he's playing up to her so she'll eventually sell it back."
Victoria stood in the hall, her eyes as large as saucers.
"Victoria, what are you doing up?" Coverdail, the butler asked, looking down on the small eavesdropper.
Emily's Christmas Wish Page 7
