Mallory pushed from safety and laughed once more. “Yes, Slade,” she echoed. “What are you up to now?”
To his credit, Slade gained his balance and bowed to his future sister, but could not quite keep his attention focused on Mallory or Silas, his stare straying over his shoulder. “Good morn, my lady. Brother.”
Silas waved off the man’s attempt at pleasantries. “Did you hide Lady Hettie’s needlepoint again?” When Slade’s chest puffed as if offended at the accusation, Silas continued, “Put flour in Sybil’s face powder?”
“Of course not, dear brother, I learned my lesson well where Sybil is concerned.”
“Then what has you breathing hard and fleeing as if the Devil is on your tail?” Mallory questioned.
“The Devil,” Slade mused, rubbing at his chin. “Yes, I think we can all agree the Devil has arrived at Ditchley Hall.”
“What in the blazes does that mean?” Silas’s voice thundered, and the windowpanes quaked in response, yet Slade seemed unaffected by his elder brother’s demand.
“By the way, the Devil goes by the moniker Earl of Bristol.” Slade’s voice dropped to a whisper as if saying the name would conjure the man. “I must be going before he finds me here and demands my soul!”
Mallory couldn’t help but find the irony in Slade’s proclamation. It had never crossed her mind to think of her brother, Adam, as the Devil; however, Slade’s words held merit. “Come now, my brother would not dare cause injury while staying as a guest at Ditchley Hall. Besides, any outstanding debt owed to my brother has been discussed and satisfied.”
Unease prickled at the nape of Mallory’s neck when Slade turned his focus to the ground at his feet.
“Slade,” Silas growled. “What are you not telling us?”
“Well”—he cleared his throat before bringing his eyes back to Mallory and Silas—“it appears I have incurred another debt with Bristol, and he means to collect it—or a pound of flesh, as it goes.”
“Another debt—“ Exasperation laced Silas’s words.
“Tell us that is not so.” Mallory sighed, fearing Adam’s need for justice.
“’Fraid so. Must be going before he stumbles upon me again.” Slade winked at Mallory as he slipped past and ducked low as he moved toward the rear of the atrium and the safety of the expansive gardens beyond.
“I did warn you about the precocious girl and scoundrel of a brother, did I not?” Silas mumbled.
“Well, I suppose it is only fair we both claim our unconventional families.” Mallory paused, turning into Silas’s embrace and staring into his intense, cerulean eyes. “However, no matter their strangeness, it does not change how I feel about you.”
His brow arched high. “Tell me, Lady Mallory, how do you feel about me?”
Did she dare say the word?
Perhaps Silas thought it too soon—or too ambitious for this connection at this point.
Yet, there was no denying it was there…a love that bound them together.
“Silas, I love you. That is the only word sufficient to express my feelings for you.” She didn’t dare look away or break eye contact, for she wished to know where his heart lay.
The smile that spread across his face brightened even the darkest corner of the atrium, though late-morning light pierced the windowpanes on all three sides.
Mallory held her breath, and waited; though Silas did not let her wait long.
“I believe that is the only term I can use, as well.” He brought his hands to cup her cheeks, and suddenly, she was standing in the middle of Castle Keyvnor’s gardens again, the cold December night sending a chill through her and banishing the humid air of the atrium. “I love you, Mallory.”
Also by Christina McKnight
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Christmas Ever More, Book Four
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A Lady Forsaken Box Set (Books 1-5)
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About the Author
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Christina McKnight writes emotional and intricate Regency Romance with strong women and maverick heroes.
Her books combine romance and mystery, exploring themes of redemption and forgiveness. When not writing she enjoys trying new coffeehouses, visiting wine bars, traveling the world, and watching television.
www.christinamcknight.com
[email protected]
Once Upon a Midnight Clear
Ava Stone
For Griffin and Cooper who make me smile everyday.
Chapter 1
Merrytree Cottage, Cheshire ~ December 1811
Lord Michael Beck had thought his old friend Jack Hazelwood, Lord St. Giles, would have welcomed him into Merrytree Cottage with a grand smile, a glass of whisky, and an engaging tale of his recent elopement. What he got instead however was…
“What the devil are you doing here?” Jack frowned at Michael from behind his desk.
“Wonderful to see you too.” Michael frowned in return as he stepped further into his friend’s study. “Why the scowl? Married life not what you’d hoped for?”
“Apologies.” Jack sighed and pushed out of his desk. “And married life is even better than I’d dreamed.” He crossed the floor and welcomed Michael with an outstretched hand. “Just surprised to see you is all. Cassy and I have reveled in being far away from…Well, everyone.”
“Me included?” Michael laughed.
“You are part of everyone,” Jack agreed. “And I hardly thought you’d seek me out in Cheshire. It’s hardly your usual haunt.”
Nothing in Michael’s life was usual any longer. The weight of the world had been pressing down upon him for quite a while, but it had intensified ever since he’d watched his little sister marry a half-gypsy nearly two months ago. Not that he minded Adam Vail’s gypsiness, but it was more the fact that the one thing he’d truly been tasked with in life had been taken from him. There was no need for him to attend soirées or balls or even mundane garden parties any longer. There was no need for him to ever have to play the role of chaperone again at any event or under any circumstance, which meant that his entire focus was now on his own life.
The thought of his own life made his gut churn, just as it had the entire journey from London to Cheshire. Oh, his father was generous enough, though Michael’s tastes often went beyond the allowance provided by his father’s marquessate, as he did have a taste for life’s finer things.
Someone, however, owed him a tidy sum. “That blunt you owe me. I need it.”
Jack’s eyes widened in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
Asking for money, even money that was owed to him, seemed so gauche. “Are y
ou really going to make me remind you about your unfortunate streak at Newmarket this last circuit?”
Jack shook his head. “I have been distracted.”
Yes, distracted by Michael’s cousin and then by eloping with the girl, much to her father’s dismay. “How is Cassy?”
Jack laughed. “More than perfect, my friend.” But then he shook his head. “You could have written me. There’s no need to travel all the way to Cheshire to demand your winnings.”
That was true. However, Michael did need a bit of advice, and there was really no one he trusted as well as Jack. After all, he might very well be Michael’s most scandalous friend. And, therefore, who better to confide in? “I’m buying a copper mine in Wales,” he blurted out.
Jack blinked at him. “A copper mine?”
Michael had been thinking about it for a while, even before his sister had married. But now the need to get on with his life and not be completely dependent upon his father seemed more urgent than ever. “The Admiralty needs as much copper as can be mined to sheath our ships. But poor planning on Arwel Paynter’s part nearly bankrupted his operation. I can buy it, run it as it should be run, and make my own fortune.”
“By going into trade?” Jack looked slightly queasy at the thought.
Oh, damn it all. If that was Jack’s reaction, Michael’s mother would have an apoplexy when she learned of his plan. “I can’t live off my father forever. I have no aptitude for the church—”
Jack choked on a laugh. “As much as I would have.”
Well, Michael’s reputation wasn’t quite that unsavory. “And the army does not hold my interest in the least.”
“But copper mining does?”
“Making my own fortune does,” Michael corrected him. “And Paynter’s poor leadership has opened the door for me to do so.”
Jack blew out a breath. “And your racecourse winnings will let you buy it outright?”
Not even close. Michael wished Jack had lost even more to him, though that wasn’t the most sporting thought. “A first installment of what I’ll owe.” He’d get the rest once the mine was operating as it should and after Michael had negotiated a better price for his copper with the Admiralty.
His friend shrugged. “What will it take to buy it outright? I’ll give it to you.”
Generous as Jack was, that was the last thing Michael could accept. “If I don’t want to live off my father, I sure as hell don’t want to live off you.”
“So you pay me back at some ungodly rate of interest.” Jack grinned. “There, did I sound like my father just then?”
Michael couldn’t help but laugh. “You have never sounded remotely like your father.” The old duke was a bastard of epic proportions.
“Think how furious he’d be if he thought I’d invested in Welsh copper mines? I’m liking this more and more, Michael. Do let me join you.”
Joining him was not what Jack had in mind, however. Michael was quite certain his friend truly meant to help with any necessary funds along the way. Scandalous as he may be, Jack Hazelwood was a very good friend. Still, the last thing Michael wanted was to be any sort of charity case. So he shook his head in response. “I have to do this on my own, Jack. I have to find my own way.” And he had, after all, found the mining opportunity on his own.
“So just what I owe you, then?” his friend asked.
And Michael agreed with a nod. “A bank draft will do. It’s only a day’s journey from here to Amlwch. So—”
“Amlwch? Are you headed there now?”
“Well, I was hoping you’d let me stay the night, even if I am part of the everyone you’re trying to avoid.”
Jack laughed again. “You’re welcome to stay. Besides, we’re going to have to be around everyone soon enough as it is. Headed back to godforsaken Bocka Morrow in a few days.”
Michael’s mouth fell open. He must have misheard his friend. “You’re taking Cassy back to Bocka Morrow?” His cousin had been tormented by a very dark apparition at Castle Keyvnor a couple months ago. He thought she’d never return, not for anything in the world.
Jack heaved a beleaguered sigh. “We’re certainly never stepping foot on Keyvnor land again. Charlotte and Vail have offered up Hollybrook Park.”
“I’m sorry.” Michael shook his head, still not believing his own ears. “You’re taking Cassy back to Bocka Morrow?” he repeated himself. Why the devil would they go back there after everything that had happened?
“Blackwater is as good a friend of mine as he is yours,” Jack said. “And he did meet his bride at Keyvnor while we were all there together, uninvited—”
Jack had been uninvited as had Blackwater. Michael, however, had been required at his great-uncle’s will reading.
“—It hardly seems the thing to ignore his invitation.”
Michael’s mother had been an incessant gnat about the entire double wedding taking place in Bocka Morrow during the holidays. However, Michael had told her that he would not be attending the nuptials, under no uncertain terms. “Cassy was terrorized.” And his sister Charlotte had nearly been killed.
“We’re not going to Castle Keyvnor,” Jack repeated. “We’ll be safe at Hollybrook Park. And Blackwater has asked for us to be there.”
Blackwater had asked for Michael to be there too, but he still hadn’t felt obligated to do so. Haunted castles he could do without.
“Actually,” Jack said with a grin, “doesn’t he owe you bit of blunt from this last circuit too?”
Blackwater did owe Michael some money, not as much as Jack, but some. It would be terribly gauche to show up at the man’s wedding and ask for his winnings though, wouldn’t it? Michael shook his head. He was going into trade for God’s sake, what did it matter if he was gauche now?
“Oh,” Jack continued, “and Markham will be there too.”
The Duke of Markham? That particular fellow owed Michael a small fortune, but Michael hadn’t yet sorted out the best way to ask the man for the funds. After all, he didn’t know the duke quite as well as he knew Jack. He couldn’t exactly show up, uninvited, at His Grace’s estate with open pockets. “Will he really?”
His friend nodded. “Cousin to the brides is my understanding.”
Well, that was fortuitous. “You want to head to Wales with me?” Michael asked. “We can sail from Amlwch to Bocka Morrow together.”
“We’ll have to bring Oscar along with us. Cassy won’t leave him behind.”
Michael shrugged, as he’d always liked his cousin’s little black poodle. “It’s no matter to me.” His sister at Hollybrook Park might be another matter, but that was neither here nor there as far as Michael was concerned.
“In that case, I’d be interested to see these mines you’ve got your heart set on with my own eyes.”
Chapter 2
Hollybrook Park, Cornwall – December 1811
Michael decided almost instantly upon his arrival at Hollybrook Park that he had the worst family in the entire world. His sister and her half-gypsy husband, now Viscount Lynwood, not only did not have a place for him to stay at their estate, they also would not help make any room for him. No spare chambers, no servants quarters, not even the blasted attic as that had already been claimed. Damned annoying. He would have thought after all of those soirées, balls and mundane garden parties over the years that Charlotte would be somewhat loyal to him. How could she have lent out every inch of her extra space to other people? She was, after all, his sister!
“I didn’t know you were coming,” Charlotte said with a sigh for the hundredth time. “No one did. Why would I keep a room for you when you told Mama you were not coming?”
She had a valid point, but Michael was not going to admit as much, at least not out loud to his disloyal sister. No room for him, indeed. “You found a spot for Anthony.” He shot a glare across the parlor at their smug oldest brother, as Michael hated him more than anyone else that afternoon. The damn jackass refused to even consider sharing his borrowed quarters with Mic
hael. They were brothers for God’s sake.
Someday, when Michael’s copper mine was overflowing with profits and Anthony’s inherited marquessate was near destitute, he would not lift one finger to help his brother, not if Anthony crawled all the way from Suffolk to Wales on his hands and knees to beg for help. Michael ignored the fact that their father’s marquessate was quite flush at the moment and the likelihood of his smug brother ever doing such a thing was practically nonexistent. The daydream was much too enjoyable to pay attention to facts and likelihoods.
“Michael.” Charlotte sighed once more, which was getting more annoying each time she did so. “I love you. I adore you, you know I do. If I had known you were coming, I would have kept a room for you. But as it is, I can’t toss one of my guests out on their ear.”
“No, it’s just better to send your own flesh and blood out into the wilderness with no place to stay.”
“I’d hardly call Bocka Morrow the wilderness,” Charlotte returned dryly. Then she shook her head. “I know the inns are sold out. You’re going to have to stay at Keyvnor. There’s nowhere else for you to go.”
Castle Keyvnor. Michael would rather hop a fishing boat and beg the captain to sail him back to Wales. But Blackwater did owe him a bit of blunt and he had already come this far. He heaved a sigh. He could stay one night in that dratted haunted castle, couldn’t he? One night wouldn’t kill him. Probably.
Or perhaps…
He flashed his most pitiful expression toward Jack and Cassy across the parlor. “You are my dearest friend,” he began.
Jack’s brow lifted in surprise. “You are not sharing a bedchamber with my wife and me. It is out of the question.”
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