Lady Altham beamed at her. “You may wish me happy, Margery. Ernest and I are betrothed.”
Margery felt tears spring to her eyes. “Oh, I do wish you happy, Lady Altham. And congratulations to you, Major.”
The military man chuckled. With one broad hand he stroked Fluffy’s back, and she tilted her head at him adoringly. “It took me a few years, but I managed to convince Gussie—and Fluffy—that they belong with me. Any soldier knows when to press his advantage, and with it being Christmas Eve...”
Lady Altham reached over, and Major Eversley slipped her hand into his. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ernest. The season had nothing to do with it.”
Margery excused herself, brushing a few tears from her cheeks. The older couple had eyes only for each other and made no further effort to keep her. She closed the doors to the drawing room, feeling seven kinds of a fool for having interrupted them, and feeling an intense gladness that they were going to be married.
Walking back up the stairs, Margery’s thoughts returned to Lord Reckford. She decided he must be with the other gentlemen in the billiard room or outside. Either way, she must be patient. He would come to her. She could not have mistaken his affection, especially not after that kiss.
This would be a happy Christmas, after all, Margery thought suddenly, exhaling in a long sigh of contentment. There was no longer a need to dread the Yuletide season. She would soon have a new life with the gentleman she loved. Would she not?
When she reached the top of the stairs, Margery decided to go to Georgina’s room to see how the girl’s complexion fared. No matter what the state of the rash, she would convince Georgina that it was Christmas Eve, so she must not miss any of the festivities. Why, there would be a grand dinner this evening, made more festive by Lady Altham and the major’s betrothal!
With these lighthearted thoughts in mind, Margery made her way down the corridor that led to Georgina’s room.
A noise at the other end of the hall alerted her to someone’s presence. She turned an expectant face in the direction of the sound. Then, the blood in her veins seemed to freeze. Her jaw dropped.
Lord Reckford stood clad in the same dressing gown she had seen him in the previous evening. Lily Carruthers, attired in a morning gown, rested one hand on the side of the viscount’s face. Her lips were pressed to his.
Margery took in the scene in a space of a second. Holding her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from making any sound, she turned and ran lightly in the other direction.
She needed to be alone. Tears threatened to flow at any second, and she must reach her bedchamber where she could cry her eyes out at the viscount’s betrayal.
But even this small comfort was denied her. For just as she reached her chamber, a voice sounded from behind her. “There you are, Lady Margery,” Venetia chirped.
With a hand at her throat, Margery looked down into the girl’s innocent eyes. She took a deep breath and managed a shaky control. “Why, good morning, Venetia. How are you feeling on this Christmas Eve?”
Venetia’s brown eyes were merry. “I am very excited. I think Mama may have bought me a new doll for Christmas. Would that not be the very best present?”
Margery forced herself to smile at the child’s excitement. “Yes, dear.”
“I have been looking for you, Lady Margery, because we want you to come up to the nursery and tell us which kittens you are taking home. You are going to take one or two of them, are you not?”
Margery fought for composure. She could not let Venetia see how upset she was. The mental image of Lily’s face so close to Lord Reckford’s threatened to overcome her, but Margery tried desperately to push it aside. She took Venetia by the hand. “Let us go to the nursery and discuss it. I was thinking of taking two, if that is all right.”
Venetia nodded her head, causing her brown curls to bounce. “Papa said we might have two, but I think we could convince him to take three.”
“Oh?” As she walked with the girl, Margery could feel her heart rate slowing. She would get through this, without the children sensing her distress.
“Mama said Lord Reckford stays mostly in London and goes out a lot with his friends. I do not think he would have time to give a pet all the love and attention it needs, do you, Lady Margery?” Venetia said, sounding very grown up.
“No, dear, I am sure the viscount has more exciting ways to spend his time,” Margery said.
Venetia gave a happy skip. “So you see, I shall be able to persuade Papa to let us have all three.”
For the next hour, Margery talked and played with the children and the kittens. She saw the relief on their faces when she said she would be taking Thyme and Sage. They must have observed her interest in the two kittens and become fond of the other three.
At last, holding two squirming kittens and a shallow box filled with sand, Margery was free to escape to her bedchamber.
Once achieving her destination, Margery put the kittens and their box on the floor. The little felines immediately slunk low to the ground and began an inch-by-inch inspection of the premises.
At their antics, Margery let out a gulp of laughter that turned into a sob.
What a mutton-headed romantic fool she had been!
She sat on the settee that stood at the foot of her bed, and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. People did not change. Had she not learned that lesson with Simon? Lord Reckford was a rake and a rogue and always would be.
Margery ignored the little voice that told her she had changed, and therefore, why could not someone else?
Thyme and Sage climbed atop the dressing table, walking daintily between the brushes, a cake of soap, and some tooth powder.
Why, Margery asked herself, had she allowed her feelings for Lord Reckford to grow? Was she destined to always be some man’s fool? First she had married a man who did not wish to bed her; now she had fallen in love with a man who apparently wished to bed every female he met. Margery started crying anew.
At the sound, Thyme and Sage startled. They scrambled off the table, with brushes, combs, and soap falling to the floor in their wake.
Margery rose to pick up the articles.
Miss Bessamy swung open the connecting door. “Good heavens, dear child, I couldn’t imagine what all the commotion was.”
Margery hastily tucked her handkerchief into her pocket. “’Twas only the kittens, Bessie. I have decided on these two for us to take home.”
As a mental image of the kittens scampering around the cottage in Porwood formed in her mind, Margery realized just how much she had started to hope she would have a future with the viscount. She had begun to believe she would not be returning to the cottage, other than to collect her and Miss Bessamy’s things. Tears welled up in her eyes again.
Miss Bessamy rushed to her side “Margery! What on earth has happened? No, do not turn away from me. Tell me what is wrong.”
“Oh, Bessie,” she cried, allowing her old nurse to hold her while she poured out the story of how she had fallen in love with Lord Reckford.
“Dear child, surely he loves you!” Miss Bessamy said, holding Margery a little away from her so she could look into her eyes. “No gentleman kisses a lady unless he intends to offer for her.”
Immediately, Lord Reckford’s halfhearted proposal at the Two Keys Inn surfaced in Margery’s memory. No! He would not ask her to marry him out of some sense of duty again!
“If he does ask me,” Margery declared, sniffing, “I shall not accept him.”
“Of course you will, Margery, don’t talk gibberish. In the servants’ hall, they say Lily Carruthers is no better than she should be. Even if Lord Reckford did kiss her, it means nothing. Now let’s get you into your nightgown and into bed. You have been overset and need food and rest.”
“It does mean something,” Margery contradicted. “It means he cannot keep his hands off of other women, Bessie. And I do not wish to eat anything.”
“You must keep up your strength for this evening.
I shall go downstairs,” Miss Bessamy said, handing Margery her flannel nightgown, “and fix us both a tray. All will work out, you shall see. Why, Mr. Griswold, Lord Reckford’s man, was saying to me only this morning over a pot of tea that he would be calling on us once we returned home.”
In the process of climbing into bed, Margery cast a sharp glance at her old nurse. Two spots of color rose on Miss Bessamy’s cheeks. “Bessie,” Margery whispered, “Mr. Griswold said he would call on you after the holiday?”
“He said as much, but I do not know,” Miss Bessamy wailed, slumping down onto the bed and losing her calm demeanor. “Men were ever deceivers. Look at how your father treated me, throwing me out after your marriage. And then there was a certain footman once when I was still young, but he took a better position and left me.”
Margery could hardly believe her ears. Dear Bessie! She reached out and hugged her old nurse close.
Miss Bessamy dried her tears. “There now, Margery, I am a wet goose. I’m sure everything will be fine.”
“Let me ring for Penny to bring us some milk,” Margery said grimly. “I assume you have the brandy.”
* * * *
Meanwhile, in his own chamber, Jordan stood gazing out the window, his hands clasped behind his back.
Griswold entered the room. “Not pining after Mrs. Carruthers, are you?”
Jordan turned around and stared at him, a blank look writ across his features. “What?”
Griswold set a clean washbowl on the dressing table. “I was out at the stables and saw Mrs. Carruthers and your friend, Oliver Westerville, leave. They had all their bags strapped on top of the coach, so I reckon we’ve seen the last of them. Good riddance, if you ask me.”
“So Oliver took her. I did not think he had the kind of blunt Lily required.” Jordan sighed. “Thank God she is gone. Do you know, Gris, that while you were downstairs this morning arranging for my breakfast, that female had the audacity to knock at my door?”
Griswold’s bushy eyebrows rose. “A regular lightskirt, our Mrs. Carruthers. What happened?”
“I did not let her in, needless to say. Once inside she would have ripped off her clothes, then screamed the house down, so I would have been forced to marry her. As it was, she made one last attempt to lure me into bed by kissing me goodbye.”
Griswold snorted. “Want the tooth cleaning powder?”
Jordan waved a hand at him and returned to the view from the window.
“You’re looking out of sorts,” Griswold said, gathering the viscount’s breakfast tray. “Wishing yourself back in Town?”
“What? No, in fact I was thinking I might spend some time at Sutherland Park. Town wearies me.”
Griswold’s mouth dropped open. “By all that’s wonderful, I never thought I’d see the day you’d finally go home. Your tenants won’t recognize you. The place is probably falling down.” Then a thought seemed to occur to him, and he muttered to himself, “Can’t say I’m sorry to be going there. It’s not far from where Miss Bessamy lives.”
Jordan did not hear him. “I shall set the estate to rights.”
A sly look came into the older man’s eyes. “Sutherland Park will need a mistress.”
“Mistress, yes, I shall send Ruby some gaudy bauble to signify the end of our relationship. She will not waste any time finding a new protector.” Jordan crossed to the desk and took out a sheet of paper.
Mr. Griswold stood with his mouth open. They were going home to Sutherland Park and all its comforts. He grabbed the breakfast tray and hurried back downstairs to the servants’ hall, hoping to see Miss Bessamy and tell her the glad news.
But Mrs. Rose told him the lady had sent Penny down a few minutes prior to collect a pitcher of milk and some sandwiches from the kitchen and was apparently spending the morning with Lady Margery.
Griswold’s shoulders slumped, and then he rallied. He had the rest of his life to make things right with Miss Bessamy.
That evening, holding a kitten cradled in each arm, Margery smiled her thanks at the footman who opened the double doors to the drawing room. Crossing the threshold, she immediately saw Venetia, Vivian, and Thomas dressed in their best clothes, playing on the floor near the fireplace with the other kittens.
Clad in the red velvet dress she had thought to sell before deciding to come to Lady Altham’s house party, Margery joined the children. She deposited Thyme and Sage on the floor.
“Oh, Lady Margery,” Vivian said, “you look like Christmas in that pretty dress.”
“Thank you, dear. You and Venetia look festive in your white dresses and red sashes.”
“How are Thyme and Sage, Lady Margery?” Thomas inquired. “Do you think they miss their brothers?”
“They have been too busy to think of them, I am sure. They have thoroughly destroyed my bedchamber, so I thought I would let them expend some energy down here.”
“Fluffy will be glad to see the kittens go away, I think,” Vivian declared. “She did not like Mr. Lemon either.” Everyone turned to look at the white cat that rested on her throne, keeping a wary eye on the younger felines.
Lady Altham turned away from where she had been talking with Major Eversley. Margery was shocked to see Lady Altham attired in an entirely modest burgundy-colored dress. No paint adorned her ladyship’s person, other than a slight brushing of rouge across her cheeks. Lady Altham looked ten years younger, Margery thought.
The dowager countess strolled over to her cat and patted her. “Dear Fluffy doesn’t seem to miss Mr. Lemon, nor do the servants. They are going to have quite a party tonight after dinner, I am told.”
At that moment, Thyme cocked his head at the sight of the brightly lit Christmas tree. He scampered over to it, batting at a ribbon with his paw.
Margery followed him, and then gasped as the kitten made a vigorous leap into the tree.
“Here, Lady Margery, allow me to help you extract the little scamp,” Lord Reckford said from behind her.
“Thank you, my lord,” Margery said in a cool tone, though she was startled by his presence. He must have come into the room after her. She concentrated on the kitten’s predicament as the viscount held a branch with a lit candle out of harm’s way. She told herself she could make it through this evening and tomorrow, Christmas Day, and then take her leave the day after.
“He has gotten himself in quite a predicament, has he not?” the viscount asked.
Margery captured the kitten. “I have him. Thank you for your assistance.” She turned to go, but he placed a restraining hand on her arm.
“Wait, Lady Margery. Perhaps we might find a few minutes to ourselves. I wish to speak to you on a matter of some importance.”
Margery looked at him for the first time, half expecting to see Mrs. Carruthers clinging to his sleeve. But the widow was strangely absent.
As usual, Lord Reckford was expertly turned out, this time in a dark gray evening coat, white waistcoat, and dark satin breeches. Tonight, he wore a large emerald in the folds of his white cravat.
Margery dropped her lashes to hide her hurt. She clutched Thyme close. “We have nothing to say to each other, my lord. I would thank you to leave me alone for the remainder of my time here.”
Having spoken the painful words, Margery stiffly turned away before he could say anything else, thus missing his look of utter surprise.
A footman announced dinner, and Margery found herself seated between Lord Harry and Humbert Norwood. Lord Reckford sat directly across from her. Margery refused to cast a single glance at him.
Instead, she addressed Georgina, charming in a pale green silk gown with darker green trim. “Georgina, dear, it is so pleasant to have you join us this evening. You are looking very well.” Indeed, the girl’s face was free of the rash.
Georgina tossed her head, causing her red-gold curls to dance. “Thank you, Lady Margery. I only hope the gentlemen in Town are as generous with their praise as you when I make my come-out.”
Next to Margery, Humbert No
rwood cleared his throat. “Speaking of the Season, I have an announcement to make.”
Mrs. Norwood glared at her husband. “You? An announcement?” she sneered. “Whatever could it be? That you have taken my advice at last and decided to shun the evils of Town life?”
“In a way,” Mr. Norwood said in a low voice. He had the attention of everyone at the table, but spoke to his daughter. “Georgina, I do not want you to think your Season is not important to me. I have arranged for you to stay with Blythe and Keith in their town house in Berkeley Square.”
Georgina’s mouth flew open, and then her lips spread into a wide grin. “How wonderful, Papa. Aunt Blythe and I will have such fun!”
Lady Lindsay smiled on her niece. “I confess I welcome the chance to go about more. Since the children were born, I have stayed much at home.”
Mrs. Norwood appeared victorious. “Humbert, I can only say how surprised and pleased I am that you are not going to insist on us going to Town. Blythe, I shall speak with you later as to how to keep Georgina in line with the birch rod.”
At her side Margery sensed Lord Harry’s indignation at Mrs. Norwood’s words. She placed a restraining hand on the young man’s sleeve to prevent him from speaking.
Mr. Norwood’s lips trembled, but then he took a deep breath and addressed his wife. “Prudence, I shall not be returning home with you. I have booked passage on a ship for America.”
At the other end of the table, Miss Charlotte Hudson’s face flamed.
“What a coincidence!” Lady Altham exclaimed. “Why, at the ball last night, Charlotte told me she will finally visit America, though she’s not actually leaving till late in March. Perhaps you two might see each other there.”
Margery broke her vow not to look at Lord Reckford and shot him an incredulous glance. He gazed back with an expression that clearly said Mr. Norwood had his approval on the course he had chosen for his future.
Georgina’s eyes misted for a moment. “I know you shall be happy, Papa. Please write to me.”
“Of course I shall,” Mr. Norwood replied, but as he and his daughter had never been close, Margery did not expect that their correspondence would be frequent.
How the Rogue Stole Christmas Page 19
