Tempted at Christmas

by Kate Pearce

  Redgrave frowned. “What could be worse than dead?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “But they were certainly worried yesterday, and now they’re gone.”

  “Perhaps they’re simply haunting other areas of the castle. It is quite large and there are so many people to frighten,” he suggested.

  There was that, she supposed. She’d heard a number of stories regarding noises and bumps in the night at the breakfast table this morning, so perhaps they were all busy frightening the guests. If she were a ghost, perhaps that was what she’d find entertaining.

  “I’ve come to offer a confession and ask that you join me on a walk to the Gypsy camp.”

  “Confession?” Holly stood. Had it anything to do with the kiss they shared?

  “I fear the mistletoe is broken.”

  Holly frowned. “Has it not responded to anyone? If that is the case, you needn’t worry. Perhaps she is simply not here.”

  “That isn’t it.” Redgrave’s face began to turn red. “It did come to life—once. No twice.”

  Her heart sank. Holly knew it would happen, she just hoped she never knew the when or with whom. “I don’t understand. Is it someone you hadn’t considered before? If that’s the case, you must spend time with her if she is the one.”

  “That isn’t it.” He thrust his fingers through is hair. “This is quite embarrassing, but….”

  “What is it?” Holly asked in alarm. Surely, the lady couldn’t be so dreadful. Redgrave just needed to give himself a chance to come to know her so that he could fall in love.

  “The first time, it was after we returned from the Gypsy camp.” Redgrave shook his head. “It came alive in the billiards room.”

  “Billiards room?” Holly frowned. “I don’t recall a miss being present.

  “That is exactly the problem. There were only gentlemen.”

  “Oh, dear. That is a concern.” If the mistletoe was broken, was the talisman Ethan carried faulty as well? “Who was near the second time?”

  “Only gentleman, again.”

  This was not good. Not good at all. If there really was no magic, then Ethan had been left unprotected these past few days and anything could have happened to him.

  “Yes, we must return to the Gypsy. Not only is your future at stake, but Westbury’s as well.”

  However, if it was broken, then perhaps…No, she shouldn’t get her hopes up. But, oh, if only Redgrave was to be hers, Holly would be quite happy indeed.

  Anthony knew the risks of telling Miss Prescott the truth, but she’d not consider his courtship if she thought he was meant for another. Of course, now her most pressing concern was whether Westbury was protected. All Anthony could hope for was that Madam Boswell had a reasonable explanation so that Miss Prescott would put concern over her guardian aside and allow Anthony to court her.

  Madam Boswell smiled when first she saw them from afar, but her smile faltered as they drew nearer.

  “What is wrong?” She looked between the two of them.

  “The mistletoe.” Anthony drew the dead plant form his pocket. “It’s broken.”

  The old gypsy tisked. “Just because it hasn’t ripened does not mean that it’s faulty.”

  “That isn’t the issue,” Anthony argued. “It ripened. Quite well indeed. Enough that I could have squeezed the juice from every single berry.”

  “Then I don’t understand.” The Gypsy’s frown deepened.

  “It only ripened around gentlemen,” Anthony bit out.

  “Well, of course it did.”

  Miss Prescott gasped and Anthony took a step back. Surely the Gypsy wasn’t suggesting…he couldn’t even finish the thought.

  “There is really no need to be alarmed, Redgrave. The plant is to come alive when you are on the path to your love.”

  “Gentlemen?” he clarified.

  “Of course. Who else stands in the path between a miss and her future?”

  “A father,” Miss Prescott proclaimed brightly.

  “Or brother,” Madam Boswell offered. “It is any guardian who has say.”

  The relief was so great that Anthony nearly laughed. “Thank you, Madam Boswell. I was afraid that…well…”

  “Yes, I know what you feared and while there are those who love differently than most, it is also against the law,” she offered sadly.

  “Differently than most?” Miss Prescott asked.

  Once again Anthony’s face heated. He was not about to explain that in some instances a gentleman’s love happened to be for another gentleman. It wasn’t discussed, of course, and being an innocent and sheltered miss, the very idea had probably never even occurred to her. “Couples that are frowned upon in society,” is all that he offered.

  “Oh, yes. I witnessed a few of those last Season.”

  Those were ones where a gentleman, or miss, married far beneath them, not what Anthony feared, though he would not correct Miss Prescott.

  “If the mistletoe is working, then I needn’t worry about His Grace’s talisman?” Miss Prescott asked Madam Boswell.

  The gypsy took Miss Prescott’s hand in her arthritic one. “I can assure you that it is working exactly as intended and you need not fear for your guardian.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, the two of you must be off.” She started shooing them away. “Today will be quite busy with pleasant and not-so-pleasant visitors, and I must be ready.”

  “Thank you again, Madam Boswell,” Anthony said as he led Miss Prescott away from the camp.

  “A guardian! Why hadn’t I considered that possibility?” Anthony proclaimed with joy.

  “Well, it’s all very clear now.”

  Was there a hint of concern in Miss Prescott’s voice? Anthony looked down at her. “I still don’t know who though.” Then he took her hand. “However, I hope it is who I wish.”

  A blush stained her cheeks as she withdrew her hand from his. “What you need to do is consider the gentlemen you encountered when the plant began to flourish, then think on who their daughters might be, if they have any.”

  “It could be a guardian of a miss who lost her brother.” Anthony didn’t really care who the gentleman was, or the miss for that matter, because he knew in his heart that it was Miss Prescott whom he wanted. He just wasn’t certain she wanted him.

  Miss Prescott gasped and took a step back. “We shared a kiss, Lord Redgrave, but you needn’t concern yourself.”

  “Concern myself?”

  “I’m not going to tell anyone and I’m certain that Oliver will not either, so you needn’t feel that you must court me.”

  “I wish to court you.” He took a step forward and once again took her hand in his. “May I be honest and forthcoming?”

  “Of course.”

  At least she didn’t pull her hand away again.

  “I’ve wished to court you for the past three years, ever since I first saw you.”

  Her blue eyes widened in surprise and Anthony prayed she didn’t reject his suit.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I thought you loved Westbury.”

  “You thought I was in love with Ethan?” she asked slowly.

  “I noted your devotion and thought him a fool for not seeing what was before him.”

  “Oh dear.” Miss Prescott brought a hand to her lips. “I love Ethan, of course, but as a brother.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve recently been informed of that fact, which is why I decided to pursue you.”

  “And kiss me.”

  “Yes.” He brought a hand up to caress her silky cheek before kissing her as he had in the blue parlor.

  Miss Prescott opened for him almost immediately and he pulled her close, not giving a care that they were in the middle of the road between Keyvnor and Hollybrook Park.

  A moment later, she pushed him away. “We shouldn’t.”

  “Why not?” Was she going to reject him after all?

  “You need to be certain.”

  “I am,”
he assured her.

  “Then I must be certain.”

  He’d court her until she finally agreed, if that was what it took. His heart, mind and gut told him that Miss Prescott was the one, and he didn’t need a dead plant to confirm what he already knew.

  “More than one gentleman was present when the mistletoe reacted. I would ask that you consider each and every one, to make certain you are on the right path.”

  “I am certain,” Anthony argued.

  “In truth, I feel certain as well, but that doesn’t mean we are correct.”

  Some of the worry he’d been carrying let go. “If you are certain, and I am as well, why does it matter?”

  Holly took a step away from him, putting distance between them again. “Two of Ethan’s sisters were just as certain, and one, if not both, are now miserable in their marriages. I would not have the same happen to either of us.”

  “That doesn’t mean we are destined for the same, Holly.”

  She blinked up at him. Anthony wasn’t certain if it was from the intensity of his voice or the fact that he’d called her by her given name. If she was to be his wife, which he knew without a doubt that she would one day be, it was time he ceased referring to her as Miss Prescott.

  “We barely know one another, Anthony.”

  His heart warmed at the sound of his name on her lips. “I trust the magic and if the mistletoe leads you to me, then we have years to know one another better,” he assured her. Many happy years.

  “But, I’d have you test it with each of the gentlemen before we make a mistake. Just because what I feel for you is strong, does not mean it’s right. I’m certain you’ve experienced such attractions before, but those feelings died out.”

  “I’ve never experienced anything as intensely as the first time I saw you. It’s been the same for three years and it will not change. Every young woman I encounter only makes me long for you more.”

  She sighed, looking up at him as tears sparkled in her blue eyes. At least she wanted him as much as he wanted her, but she’d not risk anything without the proof of the magic. If he had to interview every blasted gentleman at Castle Keynor to prove to her that they were meant to be, then he would. “By the end of the day, I assure you, we will have the answer.” He offered his arm. “But we shall have none until we return to Kevynor.”

  With a smile, she slipped her small hand into the crook of his arm, and leaned a bit closer than before. “Just promise me that if it reacts to another, instead of Westbury, that you won’t fight the magic.”

  “I can assure you that it won’t.” And even it if did, which it wouldn’t, Anthony was certain that he’d never tell her.

  Holly stopped and looked up at him, biting her bottom lip.

  “What is it?”

  “Even if it does react around Ethan, that still doesn’t mean it’s because of me.”

  “Of course it does. Who else could it be for?”

  “Lady Ivy.”

  Anthony chuckled. “I can assure you, it is not for his younger sister. Lady Ivy and I would never suit.”

  Holly frowned and narrowed her eyes on him. “And what is wrong with Lady Ivy?”

  Blast, now Holly was becoming defensive for her friend. “Nothing, I assure you,” Anthony quickly explained. “I’ve danced with Lady Ivy on several occasions, but she doesn’t make me feel anything compared to what I experience when you are near.”

  “You are certain?”

  “As certain as anyone can ever be.”

  Oliver Dallimore was storming out of the castle as they drew near. At the sight of them he strode over. “A word, Redgrave.”

  “It is unlike you to be so rude, Oliver,” Holly chastised.

  “I’ve a pressing matter to discuss with Redgrave, in private.”

  What the devil was he about? “I will speak with you later, Miss Prescott,” Anthony said, sending a reassuring wink her way.

  “Only after you’ve seen to your quest.”

  In other words, he was not to return to her until he was certain. Well, at least all of the gentlemen were within the castle, or at least close to it, so this shouldn’t take too long.

  “What is it, Dallimore?” Anthony demanded once Holly was back inside the castle.

  “I’ve decide that I must tell Westbury about you and Holly being alone, in a closed parlor.”

  “Very well, do what you must.” They were to be married anyway, of that Anthony was certain.

  Apparently, that wasn’t the reaction Dallimore was expecting because his eyes widened as his mouth popped open.

  “What, did you think I’d beg you to be silent? I am an honorable gentleman.”

  “Well, um, yes, actually.”

  “Then what, you’d still threaten me?”

  Dallimore cringed. “Actually, I was going to attempt blackmail.”

  This time it was Anthony’s turned to be shocked. “Blackmail, you say? And how much did you expect me to pay for your silence?”

  “Five pounds.”

  Anthony knew Dallimore wasn’t exactly plump in the pockets, but he didn’t think the gentleman so low as to blackmail. And if he was going to stoop to such a level, he should really ask for a lot more than five pounds. “What is really going on?”

  Dallimore paced away from him. “In truth, I owe your brother a debt. A gambling debt that is, from a few months back, and he’s come to collect.”

  As the words sank in, Anthony’s irritation rose. “Michael, my younger brother, is going about collecting on bets at a wedding? Or, is it just you?” Perhaps his brother had only mentioned it in passing and Dallimore panicked because he didn’t have the funds.

  “Oh, it isn’t just me, but others as well. It’s as if he suddenly decided to call in all his vowels.”

  “Yes, well, I will not be blackmailed, so tell Westbury what you’d like. As for my brother, I’ll see to that matter posthaste.” Antony strode for the castle to locate his brother. Of all the idiotic things Michael had done in the past, this was the worst. Not only was it gauche to collect from wedding guests and bring embarrassment to the family, but Michael was keeping Anthony from his own quest as well.

  Chapter 11

  “You did what?” Holly demanded. Surely she hadn’t heard Oliver correctly.

  He paced in the blue parlor, pushing his fingers through his hair, more agitated than she’d ever seen him before.

  “You don’t understand. It’s a matter of honor. I must pay what I owe Lord Michael.”

  “So you thought to blackmail Redgrave?” This wasn’t like Oliver at all.

  “I don’t have the funds,” he argued. “I’ll never have the funds.”

  “Then perhaps you shouldn’t have gambled in the first place,” Holly chastised.

  “Don’t you think I know that?” he snapped back. “Lord Michael of all people. I was such a bloody fool, but I was certain my horse would win.”

  “You’ll simply need to ask him to wait until you have the funds.” From what she understood, the debt was months old. What was a few more weeks? “Shouldn’t you be receiving your quarterly soon?”

  “What quarterly?” he snorted. “There is no quarterly.”

  Had Lord Dallimore cut him off? Did Oliver have a gambling problem she was unaware of? Was that why he was searching for the treasure?

  “There hasn’t been one for a year.” He sank down onto the settee. “I had money, which I was very careful in spending, until I bet on a damned horse.” He jerked and looked up at Holly. “My pardon.”

  “I don’t understand, Oliver.” Holly sank down to sit beside him.

  “The family is broke, Holly.”

  Surely he was mistaken. Lord Dallimore had a lovely home in Mayfair, and Frannie was always put to rights and attended all the social gatherings this past season, dressed in some of the most beautiful gowns.

  “Unless we come into wealth somehow, or I marry an heiress, or find a treasure,” he snorted, “Frannie has had her one and only Season because
father cannot afford another. We’d hoped that she’d marry, then Father and I would have less concern, but now Frannie will suffer too.”

  Holly’s heart ached for Frances. She well knew what it was like to have nothing, but at least Holly had Westbury, who was quite plump in the pockets and had seen to her care, enough so that she’d enjoyed three Seasons. A debt she could never repay. “I had no idea your situation was so desperate.”

  “It isn’t something one likes announced,” he answered dryly.

  “That is why you were desperate to find the treasure.”

  “It wasn’t for me, and I really was only going to take a small bit.” He glanced up at Holly and she could see the desperation in Oliver’s brown eyes. “Just enough to afford a Season or two for Frannie, so that she can find happiness.”

  “What of you?”

  “I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll have to marry an heiress, if I can find one. With this debt hanging over my head, I’ll need to see to it right away.”

  “If you would have found a treasure?” Holly questioned, wondering what his plans would have been then.

  “I assure you, it would have only been for Frannie. Once she wed, Father could sell the home in Mayfair and we could settle in the country somewhere, where people wouldn’t notice our dire straits. Neither one of us needs much of anything, and I wouldn’t mind any sacrifice if it meant my sister was happy.”

  Her heart ached for her friend. She had no idea matters were so desperate. “There is no hope for a second season?”

  “Not in our current financial situation.”

  “I could provide Frances’ wardrobe.”

  “Gowns aren’t going to make a difference, and I doubt my sister would enjoy wearing cast off clothing from you.”

  “They wouldn’t be cast off.” Holly smiled. “I’ve been designing my own clothing, and that of Lady Ivy, for some time. I make the gowns as well. It would be quite economical, only the cost of the material and I would be happy to do this for her.”