The parlor door then closed gently and heavy footsteps crossed the room. It had to have been Andrew, of course, as he’d seen the physician out, but what could she possibly say to him right now?
Clara turned and found him adding a new log to the fire.
“Come and sit by the fire, Clara. You’ll be warm, and I can pour you a wee dram of brandy to help settle your nerves.”
She nodded and took a seat in her father’s favorite chair, following Andrew’s every move to the sideboard where he poured some brandy. When he returned to her a second later he passed her the glass and smiled.
“There, that should calm you.”
He pulled a chair next to her, and for a moment, they sat there in quiet contemplation before he broke the silence again. “Your father will be fine, lass. The physician will return tomorrow to check upon him; however, he expects he’ll make fair recovery.”
He paused and then set his glass down on the table off to the side and came to his knees before her by the fire.
His eyes were warm, and when he lifted her free hand and brought it to his lips, her belly filled with flutterings of the strange sort. This couldn’t be the manner in which gentlemen offered their sympathies, yet she couldn’t ponder a moment so loving and intense such as this one.
“You should know I’ve asked your father for his permission to marry you after a short courtship.”
She gasped and couldn’t find the words forming behind her lips. She didn’t believe the timing could have been worse, yet excitement made her hands slightly tremble.
“I can see this discussion is distressing you. I promise to always be faithful, and I feel that after we’ve had some time to get to know each other better, you will see the many benefits.”
“Oh… Andrew. It is not that, it’s just my father….”
He stood and wriggled a finger at her to join him.
Clara couldn’t help but feel mesmerized by the offer. He took her by the hand and they crept up the stairs toward her father’s room. Andrew opened the door for her and followed her in. She stopped at the foot of her papa’s bed and watched as he snored. Clara stifled the giggle threatening to escape. In truth, it was her father’s snoring that had led to her mother sleeping in an adjacent room.
It was clear her father would make a proper recovery and needed rest. When she looked at Andrew, he moved his head in a manner hinting they should leave. She quickly darted out of the room, and her companion took care in closing the door quietly. He then took her hand and led her to his rooms. Through the doorway they went. His room was dark and the fire barely lit. Clara followed him to an adjoining room where she witnessed Alec resting with his nurse. The little boy stirred and woke up.
She couldn’t help but stay where she was at the door frame as Andrew went and coddled his son back to sleep. He was a natural with children, and it was painfully obvious how much he loved his son. Clara couldn’t imagine the tremendous grief he’d gone through. Alone and still having his lands and tenants to care for. The burden alone had to have been heartbreaking.
He placed a kiss on his son’s cheek and then strode back in her direction. She stepped back to give him room as he closed the door, then he held out his hand for her to take once again.
Andrew led her back downstairs and closed the door to the parlor so they would be alone again next to the warmth of the fireplace.
“As you can see, I’ve shown you your father is on the mend, and I wanted you to know I’ve observed the adoration my son has for you.”
He caressed her cheek as he moved closer, then dipped his head down as he tipped her chin up. Their gazes met and there was nothing but the soft glow of the fire emanating behind him, the sound of the fire crackling and hissing, and this impossible moment that made her want to swoon. Andrew didn’t speak another word and before she could bat a lash, his lips pressed to hers.
Andrew was gentle, caring and positively with a spark of the devil, but she couldn’t help but enjoy this… this new feeling that had the flutterings in her belly from earlier ready to burst. She hadn’t realized until now how close she’d moved to him until her corseted bosom pressed against his chest.
Clara would be lying if she denied his kiss, or this moment, Andrew’s attention for that matter, but her head swam with thoughts of romantic bliss. A strange thing too. He ravaged her mouth while he slid his hands down from her face to her shoulders and then her waist.
He growled then and pulled away, appearing shocked for some reason.
“Clara… I’m… so sorry. I should have never kissed you.”
She laughed then. “Then I suppose I shouldn’t have encouraged it, but I will admit it was very nice.”
Clara turned away as heat seared her cheeks and down her neck. Suddenly the room was hot as if ten logs had been added to the fire.
He coughed. “I’m sorry Clara, I should have never taken advantage of the moment. I should probably let you get your rest. With Christmas here, I imagine tomorrow’s activities will have everyone engaged very early.”
She smiled, stepped toward him and then clung to his shirt as she stood on her toes. She pressed her lips to his as chastely as possible and then dashed out of the parlor toward her rooms. Lud, how the man excited her, and he wanted her to be his wife.
His wife. A mother to his son.
She had to be mad, but this had been the best offer she had ever received and she wasn’t likely to receive another. If only she could be sure her mama would be fine with caring for her father. Perhaps she could even aid her papa’s business from wherever Andrew called home, or maybe Freddy would give up the militia and care for the accounts.
Goodness knew what her future held, but how she looked forward to seeing the faces at dinner when she announced her acceptance to Andrew’s offer. Her singular hope was that the rest of her family would be happy for her. Especially considering her papa had already given his permission.
Andrew lingered around the parlor a wee bit more before deciding to head back to his rooms. Lord, in a few weeks he’d be a married man again. The one thing he missed was sharing his bed, the warm touch of a woman that was his and sharing a home.
There was an unsettling quietness within his home since his wife had passed. The nurse her family had helped find for Alec kept the child away from him, so he rarely heard him make a peep until he sought him out every day when he came in from the stables or visiting his tenants.
He hadn’t kept the company of many women since then either. He’d been approached by various widows, but he didn’t want to dishonor the memory of his wife either. Yet, he yearned for a long, drawn out tumble with a woman who would appreciate him and not his newfound wealth.
His seclusion in the highlands kept him away from such ladies, but there were always those times he’d be invited to family gatherings by his tenants who always had a relative in need of a husband. In truth, he had no desire to find a timid creature. A no nonsense, hands-on woman was for him. One who would be interested in what he had to say or do, one who would appreciate the value of hard work, and Clara was the woman for him.
Andrew removed his neckcloth and tossed it to the side on a chair next to the bed and then made quick work of the rest of his clothing. Such visits required so many layers of clothing, so he could only imagine what it must be like for a woman. The constant dress changes, limited conversations to the weather and gossip. It had to be so dull, and then there was a lass like Clara.
Clara.
She was unlike any other female in his company.
He pulled the blanket back and slid into bed. The chill of the fabric wrapped around him like a cool summer breeze at dusk while manning the fields.
Andrew stretched his legs making himself comfortable and closed his eyes, but that had been a mistake. The first thing he envisioned was the beautiful woman he wanted to marry. Her chestnut hair, her big and beautiful blue eyes staring into his. He imagined undressing her as he slid his hand down his body until he found his shaft. St
iff and so desperate for attention. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so needy.
Andrew stroked himself at a steady pace, envisioning Clara undressing herself. Beneath, her demure exterior she was a minx ready to tempt him at every turn. A delicate milky white canvas his tongue would soon explore, beautiful rosy nipples taut and ready to be nibbled. An exquisite shape and soft belly he would kiss down until he reached the apex of her thighs. He’d part those curls and delight her in sensual ways. The wicked things he would torment her with using his tongue. Licking and sucking, he would then insert a finger or two and pump into her. And the moment she’d peak from her orgasm, he’d lap up her juices, continuously keeping her on the edge of such pleasurable madness.
He couldn’t control any of these delicious thoughts. He wanted her undeniably, and the fact he was taking care of his own madness now… his breath hitched. Lord!
Andrew came to his own climax, spilling his seed onto his belly. His chest rose and fell and he breathed hard. How he had needed this moment, and it was likely he’d be doing this again and again if she didn’t accept his offer. Now that was something that he hadn’t considered. In all his excitement, she hadn’t even given him the word, and that thought gave him great pause.
What if she declined? What then, indeed. He really didn’t want anyone else, and if she desired a lengthy courtship, he would give her one. Yet, circumstances being what they were with Mr. Sedgewick’s attack earlier, the man would be prone to another and he was sure his daughter would prefer that her father gave her away at their wedding.
Andrew would attempt to speak with her before dinner, and with a shred of hope, perhaps she was willing to take a chance on him.
He had come here at Duncan’s request, and at the time, it had been an odd one considering he hadn’t met any of this side of Duncan’s family. He should have known the man was up to no good and had every intention of tossing him in the path of Miss Clara Sedgewick, and for once he was grateful for the interference. Now that his son was a bit older, he deserved to experience what a complete family celebration was instead of the seclusion his home offered.
It was no secret he needed a new wife, but now… with her…. It was surreal to think that he found someone so perfect, and from the instant he’d seen her with his son, his heart was sold on the matter.
The fact she was a bluestocking, managed her father’s books and had been on the shelf for a bit meant nothing to him. All that mattered was to make her his, and that was final. However unfortunate her father’s ailment was, the timing could not have been more terrible, but all the more to make for a hasty wedding. When this could be, in fact, the only time Mr. Sedgewick would see his daughter married and have her brother temporarily back from the militia.
Indeed. They would have words, and hopefully he’d convince her to marry him within a month. She wouldn’t have much time as far as a courtship went, but she could plan the wedding as she saw fit, and he would have ample time to prepare his house for its new mistress.
He could imagine the happiness of the servants to open parts of the house that had been closed up, and the desserts they would delight her with. Oh, how he couldn’t wait.
Andrew flung back the sheets and strode toward the basin to clean himself, and no sooner had he set the cloth down he heard a rustling at the door adjoining his, where his son slept.
He grabbed his trousers and put them on to open the door and see what the noise was all about, and when he opened the door, the little boy stood and threw his arms at him.
“Papa!”
Oh, my little mischief maker. What am I ever to do with you?
“Come, son. Before we wake up your nurse.”
He bent down to pick up his son, closed the door and then returned to bed with the child.
If only his son knew how their lives were about to change.
Chapter Six
Clara barely slept a wink and managed to get down into the kitchen to fetch herself some tea before the cook had even arisen. Excitement about Andrew’s offer and her dad doing much better than expected sent waves of relief through her body.
This Christmas had been the best already and no one would fully understand why. Freddy was home, all of her remaining family was here with the exception of her eldest brother, who had a new life in America. She’d received quite possibly the best and most honest offer of marriage and didn’t realize until this morning that she had not given Andrew her acceptance yet.
She, of course, wanted to talk to her father about it first before she announced anything during their dinner tonight, and she’d have to talk to Andrew about it too.
Everything a girl could ask for at Christmas had happened, and she’d been blessed with the good fortune of not having to celebrate this holiday without her father.
Clara poured two cups of tea and placed them on a tray to take them to her father. The man had to have been parched, and given he needed to stay away from anything too sweet or imbibing liquors, tea would have to do at this hour.
She ascended the stairs and knocked on the door before entering his room and finding him already awake.
“Ah! My dear girl. You’ve come with tea, I see.”
“I have, Papa. Bear with me a moment, and I will help you sit up.”
Clara set the tray down and came to his aid by lifting him the rest of the way and patted and repositioned his pillow at his back to help support his position.
She passed him some tea and took a seat at the end of his bed with hers. “I hear Andrew has been to see you?”
Her father grinned. “Yes, he has. Tell me, my girl, has he made you an offer?”
Heat seared her cheeks once more, remembering that insatiable kiss in the parlor last evening, and how sinful was it that she wanted more of his kisses?
“Clara?”
“Yes, Papa?”
“Has Laird Cameron made you an offer of marriage?”
She smiled then and looked at her papa with pride. “He has. However, I managed to forget to give him my answer last night.”
“Excellent news, my girl. You must tell him at once, and then I will make the announcement at dinner tonight.”
Clara rose and set her tea on the tray. “I will, Papa, but first I must know something. What will happen with the business? What of you and Mama?”
Her father passed her his cup, and after she set them on the tray, she kneeled down next to him.
“Papa, you’ve worked hard for the business and to provide for all of us. Why don’t you let Freddy retire from the military and let him take the reins of the business?”
He took her hand into his and gave it a little squeeze. “Clara, your brother has no interest in the business, and in fact, he made mention of his plans to leave England and find new opportunities in America.”
She gasped. “You can’t be serious? What will become of you and Mama?”
“Well, my original intention was to leave the business in your name, but now that you will be a married woman, the choice is yours. I can leave you the business, or I can sell it and leave the home to you and Andrew to rent.” Her papa paused and then gave her hand another squeeze. “I have been fortunate enough to set aside a small fortune to retire to the continent with your mama. She’s always wanted to tour Venice, so why not now?”
It had never occurred to her that her father wanted to do other things and travel, and if there was ever a moment in which she felt she was a burden to her family, it was now. Had her father kept the business intact to ensure she’d have a future if the right offer hadn’t come along?
Her dear papa would never admit to such a notion, but it wasn’t unheard of, and at the very least, she knew how much her father adored her. How many fathers would go as far as to teach their daughters how to manage a business’s ledgers and household accounts? She was incredibly proud and she was good with arithmetic. Yet, a part of her dreaded how such skills would be frowned upon should she marry. She didn’t think Andrew would take exception to her he
lping her father. He appeared to be the sort of gentleman who didn’t shy away from the unconventional if he offered for her anyways.
Clara had been well educated in the value of shipping goods, had learned the arts of negotiation and could only be in debt to her father for his sound mind and for being so forward thinking in a time when women were simply chattel… broodmares.
Perhaps she could negotiate with Andrew that, once her parents had completed their tour of the continent, they would live with them in Scotland, or wherever it was he called home.
Home.
She would finally have her own home, inherit a son, and hopefully give Andrew many more. Oh, how she needed to talk to him as quickly as possible and without so many interruptions, but all their guests would be arising soon for breakfast.
“Clara, are you well, child?”
She shook her head, attempting to come out of this daze that took her off deep into thought. Even more so since Andrew’s arrival. “What was that, Papa?”
“You’re quite engrossed… What on heaven’s Earth are you thinking about now?”
She rose and looked at him. “I really must speak with Andrew, Papa. Please, excuse me.”
Clara raced out of the room whilst her father chuckled behind her. Now to plot how to corner Andrew without creating a scandalous scene.
She returned to her room and leaned against the door for a while once she closed it. How on Earth would she speak to him in private without their guests speculating something terribly inappropriate?
It was bad enough her education was gossiped about between her aunt and uncle on her father’s side, but Uncle Duncan, from Mama’s side, cared not for matters of propriety.
She’d have a plan figured out soon, or at least she hoped so. There simply was no room for failure.
Andrew played with his son on the parlor room’s floor as the afternoon sunshine faded into what would soon be night. All of Mr. Sedgewick’s guests had been busy with adding their own final touches with decorations, playing cards, or sitting around and drinking.
The Nutcracker Reimagined: A Collection of Christmas Tales Page 67
