“Serenity?” Timothy asked.
“Yes?” She cut another piece out of the page.
“Serenity?”
When she looked up, she laughed as he tossed bits of paper in the air. Theodora crowed with joy as they wafted down around her.
Gathering up a handful as Henry must have, Serenity took Theodora’s hand and closed her fingers around the paper. She rose and whispered in the little girl’s ear. Theodora compressed the scraps into a wad. With a laugh, she let the paper fly at Timothy. It struck him in the arm.
“What was that?” he asked with a gasp.
“A paper snowball.” Serenity laughed while Theodora giggled. “A snowball aimed very well at you!” She squeezed the little girl’s hand gently.
Glancing at Henry, he said, “I think we have been challenged to a snowball fight.” He jumped down from the ladder and grabbed another handful of scraps. He dumped the paper over Theodora’s head. As Theodora shouted for Serenity to gather up more of the white pieces so she could make another snowball to throw at him, he scooped up more of the paper and dropped it on Serenity’s hair.
He caught her arm as she was reaching for a piece of paper. She shook it off and crinkled the page into a wad. Throwing it at him, she laughed when it struck him on the chin.
“Now you are asking for it,” he said in a growl. Grasping her arm, he sprinkled scraps on top of her head.
She tried to collect more pieces of paper, but he halted her, clamping his arm around her waist and pulling her up against him. The sound of Theodora’s gleeful laughter faded in the distance as she gazed up into his eyes. His fingers eased their grip on her arm as his other hand swept up her back, pressing her even closer.
“You are beautiful when you are covered with snowflakes,” he whispered. “Your cheeks are flushed, and your hair is soft around us. And your lips look hungry for a kiss to warm them.”
“It is not cold in here.”
“You are right.” His hand stroked her back. “It is very warm with you in my arms.”
“Theodora is here.” She wondered how she could talk him out of kissing her when she wanted him to so very much.
With a laugh, he looked over his shoulder. “Would you be bothered if I kiss Serenity?”
“Nurse says that is what people who want to get married do.” She grinned.
“As you don’t mind, and Henry does not mind—”
“Only if Miss Adams does,” the valet said with a chuckle.
“Do you mind, Serenity?” Timothy asked quietly. “Do you mind if I savor a sample of your soft lips?”
“You should not—”
“Heed what you say, but what your eyes tell me.” His fingers sifted through her loosened hair, sending it cascading along her back.
When he tilted her mouth toward his, she raised her arm to curve around his shoulders. Why was she fighting what she wanted with all her being? His hair, like unrefined silk, brushed her fingers, and his sand-rough face grazed her as he placed a light kiss on her left cheek. When he moved to kiss her other cheek, she caught his face in her hands. His eyes burned like the dark wood at the very heat of the fire, sparks glinting through their ebony.
“I thought you wanted to kiss my lips,” she whispered so softly not even Henry or Theodora could hear.
“More than you can know, sweetheart.” He bent toward her as anticipation quivered deep within her.
“What is this mess?” came a mocking voice from the doorway.
Serenity yanked herself away from Timothy to see Melanda Hayes in the doorway. The quivers became shivers of dismay that the precious moment had passed when she could have delighted in his kiss.
“What have you done to yourself now, Serenity?” Melanda’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “I cannot believe that the earl would consider marrying his heir to someone who is so unkempt.”
She put her hand up to her hair, which billowed around her with every motion, and replied coolly, “I might find it easier to stay a pattern-card of perfection if I did nothing but sit all day and ply my needle to a piece of fabric.” She halted herself before she could say more.
Seeing Melanda’s eyes brighten, Serenity knew she would be a widgeon to allow the young woman to send her into a pelter. Melanda Hayes enjoyed an uproar. No quiet meal was allowed. Melanda seemed compelled to prattle about someone she had met in London who did not meet her expectations, delighting in belittling them, especially if they revealed any skills she could never obtain.
Quietly, Serenity continued, “To own the truth, we were having a snowball fight.”
“Inside?”
“One does not get chilled this way.” She bent and gathered up another handful of the paper scraps. Tossing them into the air, she said, “This is our blizzard.” She looked at where Timothy still stood beside the ladder. “Timothy is hanging up some of our snowflakes.”
Melanda’s nose wrinkled again. “That is so—”
“Amusing,” Felix said as he appeared behind her. Resting his shoulder on one side of the doorway, he folded his arms in front of him. “Is this your idea, Serenity?”
“A very good one,” Timothy said. He put his hand on Serenity’s back, gently stroking it.
Did he think this would help calm her? Mayhap her anger, but his touch sent a pulse through her that set every inch of her to shimmering like the air after a bolt of lightning cut through.
“Will you go away?” Theodora asked with childish candor. Too much candor, Serenity realized, when she went on, “Timothy was about to kiss Serenity.”
“Is that so?” Felix’s smile grew brittle. “That is a surprise, knowing what I know about you.”
Serenity stiffened, but before she could think of what to say, Theodora added, “Why is that a surprise? They are getting married. People who are getting married kiss.”
“That is so.” Felix squatted by her chair. “You know a lot, don’t you, Theodora?”
“I know you and Miss Hayes must be getting married, too.”
“Miss Hayes and I have made no such plans.” He glanced at Timothy, who was watching without expression, then gave Theodora another smile. “You should not heed what you hear.”
“I am heeding what I saw. I saw you and Miss Hayes kissing in the water garden.”
Felix stumbled back to his feet as Melanda’s face blanched. She said something to him that Serenity could not hear while they left the room.
“Henry,” Timothy asked in their wake, “will you find Theodora’s nurse, please?”
“Yes, my lord.” He wore a worried expression. “If I can do anything else, my lord …”
“Nothing else. Serenity and I will begin cleaning up this mess with Theodora’s supervision while you retrieve Theodora’s nurse.”
Serenity knelt again by Theodora’s chair when she saw tears glistening in the little girl’s eyes. “Don’t be sad. If you cry, you will melt the roof of your snow den.”
“I will, won’t I?” Theodora gave her a watery grin. “I did not mean to cause trouble.”
“You caused no trouble,” Serenity assured her.
“None at all.” Timothy handed her some of the paper scraps. “While you make another snowball, I need Serenity to help me pick up more of this paper.”
Seeing the intensity in his eyes, Serenity nodded. She was not surprised when he led her to the farthest pieces on the carpet. As she knelt to pick up the white spots that stuck stubbornly to the floor, she whispered, “I am sorry if Theodora unsettled you with her comments about Felix and Melanda. She had mentioned that earlier to me and—”
“My cousin may kiss whomever he pleases, as he always has.”
“Then what bothered you?”
He took her hand and dumped the pieces she held into his. “I do not like being threatened, Serenity.”
“Threatened?” She grasped his arm. “I had hoped I heard Felix wrong.”
“You did not.”
She stood when he did. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Timothy, if
you want to put an end to this betrothal now, I will do what you need me to do.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know.”
He put one finger beneath her chin and tipped it toward him. “I shall not have you turned out with no place to go.”
“Your house in London—”
“Would mean the ruin of your reputation if it was learned I set you up there. Everyone would assume you were my mistress, and no lady would hire you to work in her household.” He smiled coolly, even though his eyes still burned as they had when he had been about to kiss her. “I am not ready to end our betrothal yet, but I am beginning to wonder if my cousin had only our grandfather’s best interests at heart when he concocted this plan in that inn.”
“But what could he hope to gain otherwise by making sure you remained in your grandfather’s favor?”
“I don’t know, Serenity, and I hope I am wrong. I do know, however, that I intend to find out.”
Ten
Timothy closed the accounts book and leaned back in his chair. This latest letter updating the new factory project had been just what he had hoped for. The land was available at a good price, and there were plenty of potential employees who were willing to accept the generous wages that he insisted all who worked for his grandfather be paid.
“If you want the best, you have to be willing to pay for them,” he mused. How many times had he said that to himself and others?
“That is why I thought you would be willing to pay so well for your Serenity’s assistance.” Felix came into the small room that was not much wider than the bay window at its far side. Walking past Timothy’s desk, he sat in the room’s only other chair.
“I have wondered why you were so generous with my money.” Putting the book into a drawer, Timothy stood and stretched. He went to the window. The sun had passed its zenith and was heading toward the western horizon, warning that he had missed the midday meal.
Felix lit a cigar from a brand taken out of the fireplace.
“Mrs. Scott will be distressed to see you smoking around the greenery,” Timothy said.
Felix settled back in his chair and tilted the cigar to watch the smoke drift across the room. “Mrs. Scott would not get upset about the greenery getting all scented with smoke if she did not put it up everywhere.”
“It is Christmas.” Timothy stood by the bay window and looked out over the grounds. It was snowing again. Winter seldom started with such a vengeance here on the moors. The gray sky fit in perfectly with his mood. Not only had every attempt to invent the perfect page-turner for Theodora been an absolute failure, but he wanted to relish that kiss that had been interrupted.
“Where is a man supposed to enjoy a funker when the whole house is bedecked with holly and mistletoe?” He chuckled. “Of course, you have every reason to enjoy having the kissing boughs about. It seems somehow ironic that you did not want to make a jumble of Grandfather’s birthday, but you are the one who has received the finest gift.”
“What are you babbling about?”
Felix leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why, old chap, I am not blind. I see you skulking about the house, seeking any chance to be with your dear Serenity. You are even hanging paper snowflakes from the ceiling, for heaven’s sake.”
“You are queer in your attic, old chap,” he said in a snarl, turning to look back out the window.
“Aha!”
“Aha what?” He should not be encouraging a continuation of this conversation, but he preferred anything to his thoughts, which were a mixture of recriminations and cravings. Could Theodora be right about Felix and Melanda Hayes? They had been friends since childhood, so she must know of Felix’s philandering ways that took him in and out of the boudoirs of many houses in Town. He could not guess why she would be such a muttonhead as to give her heart to Felix, because he had heard Melanda boast more than once that she would marry only for love or for a grand title. As Felix would never have the family’s title, Melanda must have a deep affection for him.
“I recognize that tone.” The chair scraped as Felix came to his feet. Crossing the room, he wedged himself between Timothy and the window, so Timothy had no choice but to look at him. “That tone means the point has struck too close to the mark.”
“And what mark is that?”
“That you have developed a tendre for Miss Serenity Adams.”
He shook his head. “Now I know you are deranged. Why would I do something skimble-skamble like that? As soon as the holidays are over, so is this so-called betrothal.”
“But that does not mean you cannot be attracted to her.”
Timothy smiled coolly. “That is true, and it is true she is a lovely woman with a warm heart.”
“’Tis not her heart that you think of warming you.”
“Felix, you should not speak so of her.”
Felix looked at the ceiling and crowed with laughter. “Are you forgetting that she is not of quality? She is in service, a lady’s maid. Who better to offer her services to than you?”
Timothy’s hands were on his cousin’s lapels before he realized what he was doing. With a curse, Timothy shoved him away. “If you say nothing of this again, I shall forget you said anything of it now.”
“Be that as it may,” Felix replied, brushing his coat as if Timothy had dirtied it, “you and I may pretend to put this conversation out of our minds, but you cannot put her out of your mind.” He laughed sharply. “She is quite taken with you, too, if you have failed to notice.”
“I have not.” He could not rid himself of the image of Serenity’s wondrous eyes so close to his in the moment before hers closed in anticipation of his kiss. It seemed to be seared onto his eyeballs, a ghostly vision of beguilement that followed him everywhere.
“Did you consider that she might want you to show her the course of your thoughts? It appeared she was more than willing when we intruded upon you yesterday.”
“I cannot speak of the course of her thoughts.” Another lie to add to his list of bangers. He had seen the truth in Serenity’s gaze and sensed it in her touch. She knew the danger of succumbing to this temptation, but she was willing to face that risk.
Puffing on the cigar, Felix went on as if Timothy had not spoken, “She would not dare to show you openly how she would like to share more than cutting out fake snowflakes with you, and she probably will push you away if you try to seduce her—the first few times, for she is trying to be a lady. You might not find her as averse as you think in the long run.”
“There is no long run.”
Felix shrugged his shoulders. “Then you are a fool not to take advantage of what is before you right now. I, on the other hand, have gained the privilege of kissing more than Melanda’s hand.”
“A gentleman does not speak of these things.”
Felix laughed. “A gentleman does not need his cousin to point out the truth that a serving woman is pining for him to pursue her and take her as his special gift for the holiday season.”
Timothy started to retort, then walked out of the room. He had no answer. Everything Felix said was true.
“And this is my very favorite painting of the front of the house near the Swiss border.” Aunt Ilse’s collection of chins bounced with her enthusiasm as she held up the canvas in front of Serenity. “Usually this hangs right over the hearth in the solarium. I love how the sunshine dances off the colors.”
“It must be lovely.” Serenity bit back the question she wanted to ask. The canvas must be at least two feet wide on each side. Why did Aunt Ilse bring it back and forth to Cheyney Park? Certainly she could have had a miniature of it done.
“Especially in the wintertime, when the sun reflects off the snow. Of course there can be snow on the mountain peaks all summer. It is so lovely there. I seldom come back to England for Christmas, because the holidays are so dreary here. We have so much more fun on the Continent.” She leaned the canvas against a table where the previous dozen she had shown Sereni
ty were propped. Taking Serenity’s hands in her bejeweled ones, she said, “You and Timothy must spend your wedding trip with Rupert and me. We shall show you all of Europe. It will be such fun.”
“I am not sure what Timothy has planned.”
Aunt Ilse smiled. “My dear, dear, dear, naïve child. You and I must have some heartfelt discussions. You must learn to let your husband think he is making the decisions. Who knows better what a husband should have than his wife?”
“To own the truth, I have thought about no plans beyond this holiday season.”
“But you plan to marry before the Season begins.”
“Yes, yes, we do.” Serenity wondered when Timothy had set a date for their supposed wedding. She wished he would inform her of the tales he was spinning. “Did Timothy tell you that?”
“No, I did.” Felix walked into the room, smiling. “I hope it was not supposed to be a secret, Serenity.” He chuckled. “If you and Timothy had made plans to run off to Gretna Green, you would be disappointing everyone in the family, for the last big wedding here was yours, I believe, Aunt Ilse.”
“I believe you are right.” Aunt Ilse brushed back her fading blond hair, which must have been as spectacular as Timothy’s when she was a young miss. “That was a stunning day. The sun shone, and the birds sang a special song.”
“No one was disappointed that day, as they were when Timothy and Charlene canceled their wedding plans.”
Serenity sat straighter, but swallowed her gasp. When she saw Felix’s grin, she knew he had come here specifically to let her know this. Timothy had planned to marry before? She thought of the many times he and others had paused in mid-sentence when they spoke of the recent past. Timothy must have invented a fiancée when he wanted to reassure his grandfather that he was doing his best to get the title an heir.
She was saved from answering when a footman came to the door. He bowed and said, “Mr. Wayne, your presence is requested in the foyer.”
“A caller?”
“Yes, sir.” He bowed again before hurrying away.
Felix offered his arm. “Aunt Ilse, would you like to join me to see who is calling?”
A Christmas Bride Page 10
