by Lauren Smith
“I’m not supposed to say…”
“Audrey,” Cedric growled.
“Lucien bought her a gown for Christmas. It arrived yesterday from London.”
“What sort of gown?”
“A lovely evening one to replace the one that was ruined. I helped him order it, since I have the best fashion sense in London.”
“Naturally.” Cedric’s sarcasm was lost on his sister.
“But you mustn’t be angry, Cedric. Nothing will come of it but…wouldn’t it be wonderful if Lucien and Horatia were married?” Audrey smiled and clasped her hands.
The mere thought of Lucien in bed with his sister made a veil of red descend over Cedric’s vision.
“Wonderful? Dash it all, Audrey! You’re too bloody innocent. Lucien’s not the kind to marry. None of us are, but especially not him.” She didn’t understand. Lucien would toss Horatia aside when the fires of passion burned down to embers. He’d seen it many times before, though always with women who found such terms agreeable. Horatia was no such woman.
“Is that any way to speak of your friend?” Audrey’s eyes widened as though startled by his dark prediction.
“He’s a friend, but he’s also a devil. As am I. I know him only too well, and I know he won’t marry her.”
“You’re wrong. Godric married Emily and he is much the same as the rest of you.”
“Emily was different… She was a perfect match for Godric.”
“And who’s to say that Horatia is not Lucien’s perfect match?” Audrey asked.
“If she is I dread to think what that says about our sister,” Cedric muttered.
“You think that would mean she’s a wicked, wanton woman, like Evangeline Mirabeau?” Audrey giggled at Cedric’s horrified expression.
“Something like that. Certainly others would think that of her.”
“Oh nonsense, Cedric. No one would think that of Horatia. She’s far too sensible to do anything rash or romantic. She’s Horatia,” Audrey said as if that explained it all, as though there was no reason to worry.
“If Lucien is determined to have her, he won’t let her be sensible. That’s the entire point behind seduction. Men use passion to rob gentle bred ladies of their good sense. Just like Charles could have when he pretended to compromise you. He could have taken advantage of you, kitten.”
“Firstly, brother dearest, I kissed him.” The words caught Cedric unprepared. “And I had to do a great deal of chasing to achieve even that. Secondly, he knew you’d be angry. I had to beg him to help me no matter the cost. And thirdly, I was not nearly so swayed from rationality by kissing him as I was by kissing Jonathan.”
Cedric froze in his pacing. “Jonathan? You mean to tell me that you’ve kissed him already? Is there anyone in Mayfair you haven’t kissed?” he growled. His sisters were running amok like Whitechapel harlots. How long had they been doing this to him? Didn’t they know it was his job to protect them, even if it meant protecting them from themselves?
Cedric collapsed back into his chair. “God in heaven. I think I may die from the shock of your exploits long before I reach old age.”
Audrey watched him, warily. “Are you very angry with me?” Her voice wavered and Cedric winced.
“I’m not angry. But I am upset to learn you’ve become so determined on the matter. I want the truth now. Are you certain it is Jonathan you want to marry?”
Audrey gave a quick excited nod.
“Do you even know him? Audrey, you’ve only met him this September. I won’t have you marrying a man for shallow reasons.”
“How can I ever know a man when you threaten them all with pistols at dawn?”
Cedric huffed. “You exaggerate.”
“Do I?” She raised one delicate brow.
He squirmed a little at her accusation. “Yes, it was only one time. The others fled before I could get that far in my shouting.”
“And you feel this is helping your argument?”
“I like Jonathan, kitten, I do. The man cuts a fine figure, but that’s no reason for marriage. You ought to marry for love.” Cedric couldn’t believe what he was saying. Somewhere along the way he’d managed to become his father. The words sounded like his.
The late Viscount Sheridan had been a noble man and he’d conducted himself with the highest levels of propriety and decorum. But buried beneath that he’d had a heart of gold that made him wise. It seemed some of his father’s wisdom had developed in him, even if it was a little late.
“You’re right, of course. But I know the way I feel around him, Cedric. I feel as though my life before him was merely an intake of breath before the true living begins.”
“Oh God, you’ve been reading those dreadful gothic novels again.”
“I have not!”
But the look in her eyes was so puzzling to him. It was as though she saw something he could not, a place that filled her with wonder and dreams. “I want to know him,” she said. “I want to learn everything about him. But I cannot do that if you do not give me the chance. Will you consider him if I can convince him to court me?”
“If he needs convincing to pursue you, then he does not deserve you. But I will speak to him, and mention your interest. If he agrees, we shall arrange for you to see more of each other. Perhaps you might land a husband after all.” He wouldn’t have trusted any of his other friends with his sister. But Jonathan was new to their circle and didn’t seem to be remotely as cavalier with his affections as his brother Godric had been at his age. There was something serious in the young man that Cedric found calming, far from the wilder valet he’d once been. It was as though Jonathan’s new position in life had matured him rather than giving him airs.
“Oh thank you, Cedric!” Audrey slipped out from her covers and ran to him, wrapping her arms about his neck and hugging him.
“I will warn you that not all people in this world have the sweet and loving heart you do. If you believe you can withstand the gossip, then you may proceed.”
She grinned impishly. “I think I can handle society and its gossip.”
As always, he was completely at a loss as to how to say no to her. The troublesome little sprite was his world, just as Horatia was.
“You’re welcome, my dear. Just promise me no more rash behavior. I need to handle this matter with Horatia and I can only survive one sisterly catastrophe at a time.”
Audrey stifled a giggle as she released him. “I promise to behave.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Cedric said with a theatrical sigh. “Why don’t you get dressed and I shall return to take you down to breakfast.” Cedric took his leave to give Audrey ample time to change while he went to his own chamber to freshen up. After that he had to find Horatia and see just how deeply her affections ran for Lucien, and whether the trouble was as bad as he feared.
Cedric had only just finished washing his face when he heard footsteps in the hall outside his bedchamber. He pulled on his boots hastily and went to open his door. Horatia was heading towards her room. She looked tired and rumpled and she wore the same gown as she had on last night. Worry ate away at him as he strode down the hall, catching her as she opened her bedroom door.
“May I come in, Horatia?” he asked softly. She nodded and let him follow her inside. “You did not sleep here?”
“No. After hearing about Muff, I rather lost my mind. It brought too many memories. I went out into the gardens and lost myself. I fell twice I think, and if Lucien hadn’t found me I might have frozen to death. He rescued me, took me to the gardener’s cottage and warmed me up by the fire then watched over me while I slept.”
“My God,” Cedric managed to say, torn between what she’d been through and the fact that Lucien had been with her all night.
“I had hoped I’d feel better or safer today…” She did not have to finish her sentence for
him to know she did not.
Her tone was laced with pain of the heart. Cedric had spent last night holding one crying sister and he did not want to repeat the experience. But he was a brother first and a selfish rogue second.
“Come here.” He opened his arms and Horatia buried her face in his chest. She did not weep, the tears seemed to have drained from her long before. He rubbed one hand gently over her upper back in a soothing motion while stroking her hair.
“You don’t always have to be so strong. Grief only rewards those who accept it, not those who fight it.” Lucien had taught him this long ago, when Cedric had been convinced his life would end.
“You’re right. But then who will be strong for you?” She gave a hiccupy laugh and pulled back to look up at him. “You are such a good brother, Cedric.” She gently extricated herself from his embrace and he let her go.
Horatia approached her vanity and laughed at her mussed, wild, appearance. “Heavens, I look dreadful.”
“Horatia, I’m afraid we must talk about something.”
“Oh dear. I never like it when you use that tone. It makes me nervous.” She tried to tease but her heart was not in it.
“You said Lucien found you and he stayed with you and watched over you last night.”
“Yes,” she answered cautiously.
“With another man, I might demand marriage if I felt he might have taken advantage of you.”
“But not Lucien?” she asked, reading his tone correctly.
“No. That’s why I am here. I know you still harbor some strong feelings for him and it has made me wonder whether Lucien has used them against you.”
“Cedric, what exactly are you asking me?” Horatia demanded in frustrated exhaustion.
“Has he used you ill? You must tell me at once. I cannot allow him to do so.”
“No. He has not.” Horatia was slow to answer, but Cedric could not tell if she was deceiving him or not.
“I would not be angry with you if he had. Your feelings for him put you at a disadvantage. They make you vulnerable and he is cruel enough to—”
“Lucien is not cruel,” Horatia protested. “He is your friend!”
“And I know him far better than you. Must I remind you of his treatment of you for the last seven years? He’s done nothing but spurn you at every turn. Why you feel anything for him is beyond me.”
“Cedric, if he changed—if he returned my feelings, if he cared about me, would you allow us to marry?” Horatia was never tentative, never hesitant about anything, yet now her very being seemed fragile and delicate.
“It would not matter what his feelings or affections were. I could never allow it,” Cedric said bluntly.
“But why? Would it not be more to your liking to have a close friend as a brother-in-law?” Again she spoke with that damned hesitancy.
“Pick any man in all of England, but not him. I won’t allow any sister of mine to be subjected to his desires. You know nothing about his amorous past, the countless mistresses, the nights at brothels. Not as I do. Even if I could overlook all of that, I could not forget how he treated you all these years, nor stop fearing that he might do it again later on. I am the head of our family. If I say you cannot marry Lucien, then you will accept my judgment and move on. Find a man more worthy of you.”
“Why are you so quick to condemn him? Lucien has only ever supported you.” Her words stung and Cedric wished he could silence her. “Need I remind you he was the one who brought me home that day when Mama and Papa died? He was the one who saved me, Cedric, and consoled you! To me that means something and if you are blind enough not to see his worth then please leave my room at once. We have nothing further to say to one another.” Horatia marched over to her bedroom door and waited for him to leave.
He stopped halfway in the hall, studying her. Did she think that she could go against his commands? Surely she wouldn’t be so brazen. He had to make it clear, she couldn’t be with Lucien. That was final.
“You don’t know him like I do, Horatia. He does things to his women that…well, I don’t want to happen to you.”
Her sudden blush had his anger rise like a tidal wave.
“What does it matter to you? What if I like the way I feel when I’m with him?”
Cedric pointed a finger at her. “You know nothing of his true self. As a friend, I can tolerate his behavior, even understand it, and I know there are those who would be more agreeable to his tastes. But you as a wife would not know happiness with him.”
Horatia’s eyes darkened with anger. “Not know happiness? Cedric, I love him. With every breath in my body, I belong to him and he to me. You cannot change that. It is done.”
Did that mean what he thought? Had Horatia and Lucien…?
“My God,” he breathed, stepping back. “You’ve been with him, haven’t you?”
She didn’t blink. Didn’t say a word. She just gave one small but firm nod and his heart sank. If only she knew what Lucien was like, how he enjoyed tying up his women to the bed and dominating them and more. Horatia wasn’t the sort of woman to want that in her life. But she was besotted. How could he break the spell?
“I meant what I said, Horatia. You will not marry him and if you think to let him drag you off to Gretna Green you will no longer be welcome in my house or my estates. You will be a stranger to me. Is that understood?”
It was a bluff, he could never disown her…but he couldn’t have her thinking he would allow her to marry such a man.
“You have such a cold heart. No, I take that back. You have no heart at all,” Horatia whispered sadly, her dark brown eyes misting with tears as she shut the door.
“Pardon me, my lord, do you require anything?” a footman asked as he walked out of a chamber close by, carrying fresh linens.
“Actually, yes.” He paused studying the footman. “Have you seen Miss Sheridan going off alone with Lord Rochester at any point since we arrived?”
The footman hesitated, licked his lips nervously. “I’m sorry, sir, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to speak of such matters. I hope you understand.”
“I do. Thank you.” The footman had as much as told him that Horatia and Lucien were meeting in secret.
There was nothing he could say to make his sister understand why she couldn’t be with Lucien. She was ensnared in his trap, and few options remained to him. Everything Cedric had done was to protect her, even if it was from his own friends. It was only then, when he saw a passing footman carrying holly boughs, that he remembered today was Christmas Eve.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The dining room was uncomfortably quiet that morning. Horatia ate only because she did not know what else to do. And even this she prolonged by prodding her food from one side of her plate to the other. Lady Rochester tried to engage her in conversation but Horatia’s heart was too bruised to answer Lady Rochester’s polite inquiries with much enthusiasm.
Horatia’s gaze was torn between her brother at the far end of the table and Lucien who sat two seats away. It should have been a wonderful, joyous morning. She was a woman now, had crossed that threshold from innocent maiden to sensual goddess in Lucien’s arms last night, yet she felt robbed of her happiness. Cedric’s decree that she must choose left an unsettling pit in her stomach.
She raised her eyes from her plate to find Lucien watching her every move. All of the pain of her brother’s words seem to fade. She made her decision. She would give Lucien time, let him decide how he felt. If in the end he wanted her then she would be with him. She loved Cedric and Audrey but someday Audrey would marry. Perhaps even Cedric would marry. If she chose them, she’d end up alone. And denying Lucien was like denying her body from breathing.
Lady Rochester at last broke that uncomfortable silence. “As you all know, tonight is Christmas Eve. In order to lighten our spirits, I believe we ought to exchange gif
ts this evening after dinner. Is that agreeable?” There were murmurs of assent and refreshed smiles. Horatia caught Lucien’s eye and he offered her a secretive smile that warmed her blood. Footmen came to collect the plates and everyone rose to go about their day.
Horatia lingered in the hallway watching the flurry of activity with amusement until a footman approached her.
“Pardon me, Miss Sheridan. His lordship bade me to deliver this note to you and to show you a secret way to reach him when you are ready.” He slid a slip of paper into her hand discreetly.
“Thank you, Gordon.” She took shelter in a nearby alcove to read the note in peace.
Come to our cottage, my little stargazer.
Horatia’s body began to hum with the promise of that single line.
Gordon cleared his throat. “If need be, I’ve been instructed to show you a passageway that would get you outside without the rest of the house being aware of it.”
“Yes, I would appreciate that.” She retrieved her cloak and made her way to the passageway that led to the gardens. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure she was not being followed, then quickly made her way to the distant gardener’s cottage. The chimney of the cottage already puffed with fresh smoke, an inviting place of refuge. She found the door unlocked and the sight inside made her pulse race. Crimson petals littered the entry way and down the hall to the bedroom. The scent of orchids and other flowers filled her senses.
“Lucien?” she called out nervously.
“In the bedroom, love. Come to me.” His sensual voice spurred her onward. She found him waiting in a chair by the fire as she entered the room. The flowers she’d smelled coming inside covered every surface. Horatia felt guilty even stepping on the petals that surrounded her lover and the bed like a crimson moat.
“How did you manage all of this?” she asked in admiration. “How did you find the time?”
“After I escorted you back to the hall, I roped a few footmen into helping me raid my mother’s hothouse for the best flowers and had them brought here. You deserve for it to be warm and sunny and full of flowers, but I’m afraid this is the best I can manage in the middle of an English winter.” Lucien stood, but she sensed the nervousness in him, as though he feared she would not appreciate his efforts.
