The Cinder Earl's Christmas Deception

by Em Taylor

  “But you looked so excited when you saw the castle.”

  “It is lovely. But if it is not to be ours, then so be it.”

  “But please, tomorrow is Christmas Day. Let us enjoy Christmas and everything that goes with it.”

  The carriage came to a halt and the butler came out to see who it was. Gabriel descended the steps and handed his wife down. He looked at Foster, the butler who had been with the family since… well, forever. The butler’s normally straight facial expression turned to a frown as he tried to work out which brother he was dealing with. Gabriel smiled and the old man’s face relaxed.

  “My lord?”

  “Foster. It is good to see you.”

  “Your father has relented?”

  Gabriel grimaced. “No. I… rebelled, I suppose. It is a long story but I have no idea how he shall react once the story comes out so we came to the country to see how it all plays out and to, well, escape his wrath. May I introduce Lady Cindermaine? We married a few days ago.”

  “Many congratulations, my lord, my lady.”

  “I know it is a terrible inconvenience but will cook be preparing dinner tonight. We can try to go to the inn in the village.”

  “Of course it is no inconvenience, my lord. It is hours until dinner. We shall have the best dinner prepared for you.”

  “I hate to be a burden.”

  “My lord, we are here to serve you. It is what we are paid for. Please think no more on it.”

  “But I am one of you, Foster.”

  “No, my lord. We may have accepted you as one of us because it was a necessity, but it never sat comfortably with us. You can have no understanding of the relief I feel to have you in your rightful place. An earl should not be cleaning boots and sewing shirts, especially not those of his illegitimate half-brother. But here, I am keeping you outside talking in the snow. Let me get you inside and I shall have a tea tray brought to you in the drawing room while we have your rooms prepared.”

  He brought them into the large imposing hallway with a grand staircase sweeping up to three or four storeys above. The high ceiling with the huge candelabra filled with unlit candles was imposing but the room was well lit with candles in wall sconces.. It had initially been the great hall of the keep before the castle had been extended.

  “Tea would be wonderful, Foster,” said Kathleen. “I am quite frozen to the bone.”

  “I shall show Lady Cindermaine to the drawing room. Is the fire on?”

  “Yes we light it every day, just in case. Um, my lord, which bedroom would you like to use? The previous earl, your father…”

  “My sire, yes…”

  “He did not use the chamber meant for the Earl. He used the bedchamber that was prepared by a previous Earl for a visit from the King. I am not sure which King it was, but that is why the bedchamber is so grand. He was the first Earl to use that particular set of suites.

  “Which room did his countess use?”

  “She used a minor bedchamber that was near the nursery, my lord. She liked to be close to you and Lady Christina.”

  “So, she did care for us after all, at least a little.”

  “My lord, your mother loved you, begging your pardon for being so bold. Your father… Well, Begging your pardon, but suffice to say that the woman did not have her troubles to seek and none of us servants was terribly surprised that her life ended as it did.”

  “Tell me, Foster. I am a child no more.”

  Foster glanced warily at Kathleen then decided to obey a direct command.

  “He beat her.”

  “I know. He beat me too.”

  “We would bandage her up and set her broken limbs as best we could, my lord. He would also force himself upon her, sometimes in public areas of the castle. One time your nursemaid was only just ahead of you and Christina and rounded a corner and had to turn quickly and shuffle you away lest you saw what he was doing.”

  “Yet he does not beat his mistress and bastards.”

  “I would not be so sure about that, my lord. Cedric and Godfrey had some interesting injuries over the years and they did not get them falling out of trees. Your mother was very unhappy. Why she chose that day to throw herself from the battlements no one will ever know. She did not leave a note. You told your father what you did. You were sobbing and telling him it was your fault. You were just a babe and unable to hold your tongue.”

  Gabriel frowned. Had he? He did not remember. Or did he? A memory of hiding under his father’s desk crying. His father accidentally kicking him as he sat down and Gabriel confessing what he had seen and what he had done.

  “Oh God. I blamed her all this time.”

  “Which way is the drawing room, Foster?” he heard Kathleen ask, but his mind was a jumble of long ago memories. His father beating him to within an inch of his life. His father stripping him naked and leaving him on the battlement off which his mother had thrown herself for two days. It had been the middle of December. His father making him clean every piece of brass in the castle until it shone.

  Gabriel was sitting by the fire, Kathleen kneeling at his feet, his hands in hers as she kissed his knuckles and looked worriedly at him.

  “What?” he asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You have been in a daze for nearly a half hour. The tea shall get cold soon.”

  “I…”

  “I know. Gabriel, you do not need to talk about it if you do not wish to, but I am here to discuss it if you would like to.”

  He nodded. “I remember a lot and it is very vivid. So many memories I have buried. Perhaps they were too painful. He was a worse brute than I can remember.”

  “It would appear so. Your poor mama.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “It seems that I have become fit only for Bedlam and you have, like the true lady that you are, stepped in and taken charge.”

  She chuckled. “I may be American, but they do teach us how to be ladies.”

  He drew her up and onto his lap. “Not too much of a lady, I hope.”

  “Gabriel, not in the drawing room.”

  He grimaced. “Hmm, no. I would hate to be like my sire.”

  “You are nothing like your sire. It sounds as though he took your mother by force. I do not need to be forced into your arms. However, we do not wish another situation like Aunt Matilda spotting us in the garden.”

  “God no.” But he kissed her anyway. When he withdrew, she lifted his hand and kissed it on the back.

  “Come, will you show me around your castle?”

  “Of course.”

  They spent a happy hour with Gabriel showing her where they would be sleeping, the portrait gallery, the living areas, the parts of the castle that were just for show, the large ballroom and the nursery. They were walking along the corridor from the nursery when Kathleen stopped.

  “Where does that stairway lead?” Gabriel shuddered inwardly, but he drew in a breath.

  “The battlements.”

  “Can I see?”

  Could he show her where his mother threw herself to her death and where his father had locked him outside in the freezing cold for two days?

  “It is snowing.”

  “Just because you refuse to go up there Gabriel, does not mean it is not still there.”

  He turned a narrow gaze on her. “What the devil do you know about it?”

  She bit her lip for a moment but then her chin lifted, and she laid a hand on his chest. “You are a grown man. You have faced down so many demons these past few days and you have faced down your father.”

  “I ran from my father like a coward. I have not faced him.”

  “You faced him when you were younger—when it was necessary—to stand up for your sister. Do you not think in these last couple of days, Christina has not told me of your life since? She spoke frankly in the carriage to Richmond Gabriel. Your sister is no shrinking violet. I know more than you think.”

  He grabbed
her hand and marched up the staircase, turning the key that was already in the lock and pulling her unceremoniously out into the snowy twilight.

  “Is this what you want, Kathleen. For me to bare my soul to you?” Anger, fear, rage, hurt, pain, grief, confusion roiled within him as he turned in the snow in front of her. “Do you want to know where she jumped to her death? Because I do not know which part of the battlement she jumped from. I did not see her crumpled body. My nurse protected me from that pleasant view, Kathleen. Now what? Do I weep? Do I forgive my mother? Do I forgive my father? Good God, I have not called him father in years. You are bringing out the sentimentalist in me. Perhaps you just wanted to see the pretty view and the snow. Come to the wall and look your fill, my love.”

  He urged her over, knowing full well her slippers would be ruined by the snow. But she came anyway.

  “Are you finished?” She asked when she stood on the ramparts and looked over the edge.

  “Not nearly. I still do not understand your motivations for wanting me here. Did you want to see how far a drop it was? Do you fancy it would be nice to see how far my mother dropped to her death? Or do you want to see where I was left for two days, as a five-year-old, naked and scared and freezing while my father got the start of his revenge on me for my bad behaviour.”

  “Oh Gabriel,” Kathleen said, swiping at her tears then drying her hands on her gown before reaching up and wiping at the tears on his cheeks. He had not realised he had become a pitiful emotional wreck.

  Kathleen wrapped her arms around him and he, in turn, wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. He did not know how long they stood there but it was when a weak shiver ran through her that he realised she was standing in the snow in a thin gown. He, at least, had a woollen coat.

  “I apologise. That was cruel and unnecessarily unkind.”

  “It was honest. I want you to always be honest with me, Gabriel.”

  “I should not have brought you out here.”

  “Yes, you should have. Coming out here and letting out all the hurt and anger that has been pent up for twenty years can only help to heal you, Gabriel.”

  “Healing is over-rated.”

  “Not if you become whole and are able to become a better father and husband that your own father as a result.”

  “I would never be like him.”

  “I know but you must learn to accept what happened as being in the past.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “It shall not be easy, but I shall be with you as you deal with it.”

  “Is this why they made you vow to remain with me for better or worse?”

  “I believe it is. But you shall always be the better man, Lord Cindermaine.”

  They walked back inside, arm-in-arm, and the rest of the evening passed quietly. The staff were all delighted to see Gabriel in his rightful place again and a maid was appointed to look after Kathleen until arrangements could be made for Patsy to be brought to Marchby Castle, assuming the maid wanted to come to the country.

  They made love long into the night and fell asleep in each other’s arms, contented and looking forward to Christmas morning.

  Chapter 21

  Christmas day was unlike anything that Kathleen could ever have imagined. Gabriel refused to have dinner served in the dining room since they had turned up unannounced on Christmas eve with no warning to the staff. Instead, they had a quiet morning walking to church, the church service, then a large Christmas lunch in the staff quarters with all the staff in attendance. Gabriel had threatened them all with dismissal if anyone was anything less than jolly because he and his wife were in attendance.

  At first, the atmosphere was rather stilted, and Kathleen feared that they were ruining everyone’s Christmas until Gabriel started to reminisce about some of the things he had got up to as a lad. Usually in his role as one of the servants—such as when he had placed manure inside Cedric’s boot or when he stitched closed the cuff of his father’s favourite coat.

  Everyone began to relax then and told their own tales of life below stairs. It was fascinating. When it came to Kathleen, she was able to tell them of the long voyage from America and what it was like to be on board a ship for six weeks. All about her poor sister casting up her accounts for days and about the handsome sailor who tried to get her to marry him. Gabriel did scowl at that part of the story. And everyone chuckled when she pointed this out.

  They spent the evening in the drawing room drinking tea, playing cards and reading—just the two of them together and Kathleen thought she could be quite content if this was her life. Gabriel was excellent company.

  Once again, when they went to bed, he took her to the heights of pleasure and afterwards she fell asleep, sated and content in his arms.

  By afternoon on St Stephen’s Day, Kathleen was feeling the most content and happy she could ever remember feeling. They were wandering through the snow near the dower house when she spotted a carriage with out-riders trundling up the private road to the castle.

  “Gabriel, who do you suppose that is?”

  He narrowed his gaze and squinted at the carriage.

  “That is the ducal coach. It appears Hartsmere has found us and wants his pound of flesh. Come.”

  But instead of leading her to the castle, he led her to the dower house. He opened the door and led her in. The place smelled musty and unlived in. It was cold and damp and Kathleen shivered involuntarily.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Let him wait,” said Gabriel turning his wife into his arms and popping the buttons on her pelisse.

  “Gabriel, do you mean to tumble me here?”

  “Do you have a problem with your husband making love to you?” He had enough buttons on her pelisse undone now that he had access to her neck and started pressing kisses to it.

  “I do when you are tumbling me just to get some sort of strange revenge on your father. Are you hoping he shall come looking for you and see you taking me from behind and slapping my arse?”

  Gabriel stilled at that. She was not sure if it was her use of the word “arse” or the idea she had put in his head. But he frowned.

  “I apologise.”

  “I am not some courtesan you can use to get revenge on your father. I am your helpmeet. Do not treat me like a possession, Gabriel.”

  “I have hurt you, have I not?”

  “No. But if we make love now, then we make love. We do not have sex to seek revenge on your father. If, in the process, he has to wait for us to return to the castle and it inconveniences the Duke, then that would be a terrible shame. Would it not?”

  “It would be,” he said mockingly.

  “It would seem a little rude.”

  “I agree.”

  “Almost as if we do not respect such a refined gentleman of the ton.”

  “You mean, almost as if I thought he was a blaggard who is not worthy of my time?”

  “Indeed.”

  “That would be terrible.”

  “It would,” She said, pulling his head down towards hers and undoing a couple of buttons at the front of her gown so that she could free her breast to his touch. Thank goodness she had foregone stays this morning.

  He kissed her as though he was a starving animal and her lips and mouth were his last meal. The tension in his muscles told of a man out for revenge but scared to let go in case he hurt her.

  “I cannot, Kathleen. This is revenge. Not love.”

  “Then love me. Like you did at the inn, in the garden, in the boating shed, in our bed. Forget about what happens when we leave here. The only revenge we are truly seeking is keeping a self-important man waiting. The rest should be about our pleasure.” She leaned over the couch and started to pull her skirts up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I thought you would want to do it this way because…”

  “No, this is about our pleasure. I did it that way in the garden because there was little choice. Come, let me lay y
ou on the chaise and make love to you properly.

  And he did. He took a long time laving and sucking at the most sensitive parts of her body. When eventually he undid his breeches and sank into her, she had released three times and was mindless with the need to feel him inside of her.

  He moved slowly at first, kissing her neck, collarbone, ears, face and lips. He was increasing the need in her own body. When she urged him to go faster by digging her booted heels into his backside, he growled into her neck.

  “You drive me to Bedlam, my lady.”

  “I believe you have taken me there three times already, my lord.”

  He chuckled, gathering her closer as he increased the speed of his thrusts.

  She screamed her release moments before he pushed into her hard and stiffened. His features grimacing and the warmth of his seed filling her.

  “God, I love you so much,” he managed as he rocked slowly in and out of her, his breathing laboured as he finished spending himself completely.

  “I shall always love you. No matter what happens when we go back to the castle, remember that you are mine and he can take away financial support and the roof over our heads but he cannot take away our love. And we have Aunt Matilda’s money.”

  “Aye, we have that.”

  “And we have friends, Gabriel. Good friends.”

  “Indeed.”

  “If the worst comes to the worst, we take Kirkbourne’s carriage and head for his estate. That’s where he said to go.” He did not seem pleased with the idea. Kathleen sighed. Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden, and he scowled.

  “What is the matter?”

  “It seems that our love is enough for me but not enough for you. Which is odd since you were the one who grew up with nought and I was pampered and spoiled. How things have changed.”

  “You are enough for me. But you deserve more than this.”

  “I want you, Gabriel. Only you. The rest is like icing on a cake. Pretty and tasty but it is too much eventually, and it is not filling and wholesome. Love and family are what is filling and wholesome. I could have had the icing with Cedric and I would have been miserable and probably bruised and… well, not given a choice if I did not want to bed him.”