“Believe me, if I could have got a note to you, I would have. They’d only just arrived and—oh, Tony, this is a nightmare.”
Tony met her gaze. “A nightmare, Lizzie? Or a dream come true?”
She glanced away sharply and pressed her lips together. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head and turned away. “I mean I know how desperately you’ve wanted to see Genevieve. I know how much it hurt you to give her up.”
“I thought you meant—” Elizabeth pressed her fingertips to her eyelids. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
Tony nodded. “Yes. Like her sister . . . and her mother.”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “What if he tries to take Evie from me?” That was the fear that had been riding her since she first saw the crest on Nathan’s coach this afternoon. It hurt to put it into words.
Tony took another sip. “He won’t. He’s not an ogre. You two just weren’t suited. That’s not a crime.”
“I suppose that’s true, but I’m dreading a confrontation with the dowager. I’ve been avoiding her.”
A grin spread across Tony’s friendly face. “Why?”
“I have reason to believe she planned this entire debacle.”
Tony chuckled. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? She’s a wily lady.”
Elizabeth pressed her hands to her cheeks. “How are we ever to have a pleasant Christmastide this way?”
“Just enjoy your time with the children. Don’t worry about Nathan, or the dowager, or even me.”
She reached up and squeezed his hand. “What have I ever done to deserve a friend like you?”
“Plenty,” he said, beaming down at her.
A shout of laughter caught Elizabeth’s attention. She stood and hurried over to the glass wall of the conservatory. Her daughters were outside, throwing snowballs at each other. Her eyes filled with tears. She felt Tony approaching from behind, and she wrapped her arms around her middle. “You know, I’ve never heard them laugh together before today.”
Tony’s voice was kind, warm. “It won’t be the last time, Lizzie. It won’t.”
“I’m a hideous mother. I know that.”
“You are not. Don’t say that.”
“It feels as though I am. I haven’t seen Genevieve in twelve years.”
“It’s never too late to begin again.” Tony raised his glass. “Here’s to new beginnings.”
Chapter Thirteen
NATHAN PUSHED OPEN the wide double doors and strode into his bedchamber. He hadn’t been in this room in twelve years. The servants had dusted and polished the furniture, but otherwise it was exactly as he’d left it.
She might have redecorated the rest of the house, but Elizabeth hadn’t touched this room. His large cherrywood bed sat in the middle of the space. The matching writing desk was perched in the corner. The upholstered chairs that formed a small sitting area near the fireplace were untouched. Even the last candle he’d burned sat crookedly in its silver stick. He made his way over to the bed. The same dark blue silken sheets covered the thing. He couldn’t help but think that the last woman he’d made love to in this bed had been his wife. His beautiful wife. His body got rock hard at the thought of her. They might have been ill suited, but they’d never lacked passion.
A slight movement to his right caught his attention. He turned to see Elizabeth walking slowly toward him. He swallowed.
“Why didn’t you redecorate this room?” The question was past his lips before he even knew why he’d asked it. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her skin was like porcelain, her cheek smooth as marble. This was madness. Why was he lusting after . . . his wife?
She trailed a finger along the edge of the wooden bed. “I don’t know. I just couldn’t seem to . . . bring myself to.”
He glanced away. “Thank you for letting us stay. I hope it hasn’t been too much of an imposition.”
“This is your house, Nathan.” Her voice was quiet. Resigned?
“I know, but . . .” He trailed off, staring unseeing out of the frozen windowpane. He walked over to the window and looked down to see the children still running about in the snow. “They seem to be enjoying themselves.”
Elizabeth joined him. The scents of lemon and plumeria wafted over him. “Yes, they do seem to be enjoying themselves.” Were those tears in her eyes? They were in her voice, at least.
“I like seeing them play together,” he said.
Elizabeth pressed two fingertips to her lips. “Oh, Nathan. It breaks my heart. Have we done them a disservice, keeping them apart for so long?”
He turned to face her. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“I’m glad to know it’s not just me.”
They were only a few inches apart. He took a step closer. He touched Elizabeth’s hand, squeezed it. “No. It’s not just you.”
“Tell me we haven’t ruined them, Nathan. Tell me they’ll be fine.” She pulled her hand from his and rubbed the tops of her arms as if she was cold. Almost instinctively, he pulled her against him. He meant to warm her, to comfort her, but her chin tipped up at the moment he looked into her face, and he was lost. His mouth moved down slowly, inexorably, to cover hers. She leaned into him and whimpered. Nathan didn’t force the kiss. He tasted her slowly, explored. When she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, he let his tongue meet hers and matched her thrust for thrust.
Minutes later, he forced himself to drag his lips away. He had to. If he didn’t, he would kiss her cheek, her throat, her neck, and he wouldn’t stop there. Or at least, he wouldn’t want to. He was already imagining her full, round breasts in his hands and her long legs wrapped around his hips. They’d never had a problem in the bedroom. No. Their arguments had been reserved for every other room of the house.
He pulled himself away from her and focused on righting his breathing again.
Elizabeth braced a hand against the wall and touched her fingers to her lips. She was breathing heavily. So was he. The tiny moan in the back of her throat she’d made a moment earlier was playing over and over again in his memory, and it wasn’t making it easy for his cock to stop throbbing unmercifully.
“What were we saying . . . about the children?” she asked in an unsteady voice, shaking her head a little.
He turned toward the window again and placed his hand against the cold glass, hoping the temperature against his palm would help cool the rest of his body.
“Evie is wonderful. Polite, quiet, intelligent, a credit to the Hollister name,” he said.
“Yes. She’s always reminded me a great deal of her father,” Elizabeth replied softly.
Nathan glanced down at his boots and swallowed the unexpected lump that formed in his throat.
“And Gena is so spirited and full of life,” Elizabeth continued.
“The kind of girl who would dance around the house even when someone is looking,” he said.
The hint of a smile popped to Elizabeth’s lips. He liked that so much better than seeing the tears that had been in her pretty blue eyes a few minutes earlier.
“I suppose she’s a bit like me—or at least, how I might have been when I was her age if my mother hadn’t been so overbearing,” Elizabeth replied.
Nathan narrowed his eyes on her. “I’m surprised to hear you say that.”
Elizabeth rubbed her hands up and down her arms again, but this time Nathan resisted the urge to reach for her.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Evie told me you rarely see your mother. I thought you two were much closer than that.”
“We were. Once. When I was eighteen, she ruled over me.”
“And now?”
“Now I rarely see her. Letters suffice.”
Nathan rubbed his cold palm against his forehead. He needed to change the subject, to say something else. “How
have you been getting on, Elizabeth?”
“I make do.” Her eyes were unfocused, but a myriad of emotions seemed to fleet across her beautiful face.
“And Tony?” Nathan could have kicked himself the moment he’d let the other man’s name slide from his lips.
Her face froze in a mask. Her voice cooled. “He is a friend.”
“Is that all he is?” Apparently, Nathan couldn’t help himself. If he was trying to make her hate him, he was doing a splendid job of it.
Her back went rigid. She didn’t look at him. “I don’t know. What about the widows I hear you’ve escorted about London? Are they only friends?”
Nathan turned toward her and raked his hand through his hair. “Damn it, Elizabeth. That’s different. They meant little to me. Tony’s been my friend since I was a lad.”
She braced a hand against the wall next to the window and turned her head to look at him. Her eyes pierced him. “Did he never mention me when you saw him in London?”
Nathan gave a curt shake of his head. “We didn’t speak of you, no.”
“Probably for the best,” Elizabeth replied. She turned abruptly toward the door. “I’ll let you settle in and will see you downstairs for dinner.” She stalked away.
Nathan watched her go. He clenched his hand into a fist and banged it against the wall. Damn it. He wanted to know two things: how in the hell could he be so ravenous to make love to his own wife, and how could he ever ask her if she was in love with his friend?
Chapter Fourteen
“MOTHER! MOTHER, COME quickly!” Even though her daughters’ voices were identical, by the strength of the tone, Elizabeth knew that it was Gena who was shouting through the foyer.
Elizabeth picked up her skirts and hurried toward the sound. “What is it, darling?” she asked as she rounded the staircase. She gasped as soon as she spied the scene in the foyer. Tony was lying on his back on the marble floor near the front door. Both girls, two footmen, and Broderick all hovered over him.
“Oh, Tony, no!” Elizabeth rushed down the last several stairs. Could they all see her guilt over sharing a passionate kiss with her husband while poor Tony took a tumble in the foyer?
“Be careful, Your Grace. There are several puddles here,” Broderick warned as Elizabeth made her way toward them.
“Yes, that’s how Uncle Tony slipped,” Evie announced, wringing her hands.
“I didn’t stamp my boots properly and the snow melted all around. I’m so sorry, Mother,” Gena said, looking guilty.
Elizabeth approached Tony, careful to step over the various puddles that were already being mopped up by one of the maids.
She peered down at him. “Lord Atwater, are you all right?”
His dark eyes opened, and he looked a bit dazed. “I believe I’ve hit my head.”
“I’m so sorry.” Elizabeth turned to the footmen. “Let’s carry him into the drawing room and lay him on the sofa.”
“Yes, excellent idea,” Tony agreed. “But I believe I can stand. If these helpful chaps would just assist me . . .”
Five minutes later, Tony was lying on the sofa in the nearest drawing room, a blue silken pillow propped under his head and his boots sitting neatly next to each other by the door. Evie and Gena had each removed one.
Elizabeth insisted on pulling a quilt over him. She was just finishing when the dowager glided into the drawing room, clutching her cane.
“I came to see what all the commotion was about. What’s happened, Lord Atwater?” she asked.
“Uncle Tony slipped in a puddle and fell,” Evie explained.
“He is not your uncle, dear,” the dowager said to Evie.
Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort, but Tony interrupted, wincing. “It’s my back, I’m afraid. I have an old injury from my youth. Was tossed from a horse. I was abed for a week.”
“A week? That’s a pity. But you cannot stay here for an entire week,” the dowager replied.
Elizabeth’s mouth fell open. “Your Grace, Lord Atwater is our guest and has hurt himself on our property. The least we can do is help him to recover.”
One of the dowager’s eyebrows made a perfect arch. She leaned over and patted Tony’s hand where it rested above the quilt. “We can discuss it later, Atwater. For now, I hope your back heals . . . quickly.”
“Girls, let’s allow Lord Atwater some rest,” Elizabeth said. She crossed over to a desk near the window, opened its drawer, and removed a small silver bell, which she placed on the table next to him. “Ring this if you need anything, my lord. Anything at all.”
Tony nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace. I shall.”
“I’m awfully sorry, Uncle, er, Lord Atwater,” Evie added.
“I am, too,” Gena managed, but she looked more sly than sorry.
The four of them removed themselves from the drawing room, and Elizabeth closed the door behind them.
“Elizabeth,” the dowager said, “I’ve arranged with Mrs. Henderson to have my dinner sent up to my bedchamber this evening. I’m feeling exhausted from the journey. I’ve asked the girls to join me. I would like to spend time getting to know both of my granddaughters.”
“But—”
“You wouldn’t begrudge an old woman time with her only grandchildren in the world, would you?” She rested both hands atop the handle of her cane.
Elizabeth glanced at the expectant faces of her daughters.
“Oh, please, Mother. I do so want to get to know Grandmama better,” Evie said.
Elizabeth sighed. She couldn’t say no to that request. “Of course, darling.”
“You should send some broth in to Lord Atwater,” the dowager replied.
Elizabeth nodded. “I agree. He should not be asked to make the trip to the dining room and sit in those stiff chairs. I suppose that leaves me to—”
“Have dinner with Papa,” Gena said, a bright smile on her face and her eyes twinkling.
Chapter Fifteen
DESPITE THE CHANGE in plans, Elizabeth donned the gown she’d already intended to wear for Christmas Eve dinner that evening. It was a silver concoction with spangles and beads that made her shine like a star. If things had gone as planned, she and Evie and Tony and his mother would have had a lovely, quiet dinner, then her guests would have returned home for the evening and come back in the morning, when they all would have had a nice breakfast while Evie opened her gifts.
Instead, she was set to have dinner with—what had Tony called him?—the prodigal duke. She glanced at herself in the looking glass. After helping her dress, Mary had placed Elizabeth’s hair atop her head and left a few curls to fall along her neck in a fetching fashion. Elizabeth pinched pink into her cheeks and turned her head from side to side to view her profile. She pushed the tip of her nose. What did Nathan think of her appearance now? Did he find her half as alluring as she still found him? Perhaps. He had kissed her, after all. And she had certainly kissed him back. A shiver went down her spine at the memory of it. For a moment, she’d felt like a young girl again.
Why did her nerves jump at the thought of having dinner alone with Nathan? She was being silly. It mattered little what she looked like. It mattered even less what her husband thought of her appearance. They’d come to their arrangement years ago. It wasn’t as if he was courting her. But the thought did remind her of her come-out. Nathan had been the only gentleman she’d seen that evening. The moment she’d clapped eyes on him, it had been as if none of the other gentlemen asking for a dance had even existed. She had danced with a few of them, to be sure, but when Nathan had taken her in his arms and spun her around the floor, she’d forgotten the name of every other man in the country. For a moment, earlier, just after he’d kissed her, she’d had a vision of them naked and tangled in the silken sheets of his bed. Her face grew hot just thinking about it. But then he’d asked her about Tony and completely bro
ken the spell.
“I just checked on Uncle Tony,” Evie said, walking into Elizabeth’s bedchamber and jolting her from her thoughts.
Elizabeth turned and smiled brightly at her daughter. “How is he, dear?” she asked, sliding on a long white glove.
“His back is still sore. But he’s in great spirits as usual. I brought him a few books from the library, and Cook sent up her chicken broth. I think he’s as comfortable as can be.”
Elizabeth slid on the second glove. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“You look absolutely beautiful, Mother. Father is sure to think so, too.”
Elizabeth gulped, nearly audibly.
“Be sure to wear your perfume,” Evie added with a knowing smile.
“Why, Evangeline Hollister,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head.
“Mother, why did Grandmama insist that Uncle Tony isn’t my uncle?” Evie asked.
“Well, he isn’t, dear, and your grandmama is rather . . . formal.”
Evie worried her bottom lip. “I’m sorry Uncle Tony was hurt.”
“I am too, darling.” Elizabeth crossed over and squeezed her daughter’s shoulder. “I do hope he’s better by morning. Speaking of the morning, dear. Is it all right with you if we give a few of your gifts to Gena this year so she’ll have some presents to open?”
“Oh, Mother, of course. I meant to suggest it earlier. I cannot stand the thought of poor Gena having no gifts to open on Christmas morning.”
Elizabeth smiled and cupped her daughter’s cheek. “You’re a sweet girl, Evie.”
Evie made her way toward the door. “We’ve also been to my wardrobe, and Gena has picked out the gown she would like to wear in the morning.”
Elizabeth smiled. “That’s lovely, dear.”
“My clothing fits her perfectly, you know.”
Elizabeth laughed out loud at that.
“I’m off to have dinner with Grandmama and Gena,” Evie said. She paused in the doorway. “You know, Father is not at all what I expected a duke to be like.”
All I Want for Christmas Is a Duke Page 6
