His Mistletoe Wager

by Virginia Heath

  ‘Cards are tolerable, I suppose, as long as money is not wagered, but playing the fool for the entertainment of others is not something I could ever demean myself to do. I cannot abide seeing grown men prance around the drawing room miming words, or groping around blindfolded or humiliating themselves by getting involved in silly, improper games involving women.’ His gaze flicked disapprovingly towards Hal. ‘I prefer to behave like an adult.’

  The pompous tone made her father bristle, but as he had high hopes of his only daughter settling down with someone sensible and staid he covered it quickly. ‘Yes, I do understand your reticence.’ Clearly he wanted to give Hewitt another chance, but Lizzie had taken an instant dislike to him and decided to kill her father’s forlorn hopes swiftly.

  ‘You are always the first to suggest charades, Father. You always appear to heartily enjoy it.’ This earned Lizzie a pointed look from the end of the table, but she was unrepentant. Papa needed to know that she and Lord Hewitt were incompatible. ‘And so do I.’

  ‘Me, too,’ said Hal loyally, immediately getting the gist of what was really going on, ‘The sillier the better. I shall enthusiastically join in with every one of Lady Danbury’s parlour games if you are playing them, too, darling Lizzie.’ Whilst this was said flirtatiously for the benefit of the dullards, he used his knee to nudge hers under the table and Lizzie couldn’t stop herself from beaming at him. Of course, to everyone else it appeared that she was encouraging his advances and she did not care. Having Hal here helping to thwart her father’s overt matchmaking plans was certainly turning what could have been an awful evening into a passably pleasurable one.

  ‘I might even be tempted to partner you in one or two of them if the mood strikes me.’ Lizzie’s eyelashes fluttered and she realised, with a start, she was genuinely flirting. Where had that come from? Panic and surprise made them bat quicker and her pulse sped up.

  ‘You surprise me, Lady Elizabeth.’ Lord Hewitt tilted his head back a little so he could look down his nose first at Hal, then her. ‘I would have thought a lady who was sensible enough to shun frivolous dances or balls would baulk at the prospect of pursuits so banal.’

  ‘Lizzie has a great sense of fun.’ Hal gave her a glance filled with complete mischief, as if they were sharing some great secret, which of course they were. ‘And she does thoroughly enjoy being twirled about the floor when she is presented with a spirited, handsome and charming partner. Why, at the end of our waltz she could barely contain her delight at having danced it.’ Thanks to Hal’s magnificent public shredding of her dance card, it was highly likely Hewitt and the rest of this motley crew had been prevented from twirling her as well.

  Lord Hewitt’s eyes narrowed at the subtle dig, then his expression became bland again. ‘Do you hunt, Redbridge?’

  ‘I try to avoid it.’

  ‘I suppose it is too gentlemanly a sport for you.’ Hewitt offered a patronising smile to the table at large and Blue Roseby made no attempt to suppress his chuckle. ‘Or perhaps the choice of prey is not to your taste?’

  ‘Careful, Hewitt. There is a lady present. I doubt Redbridge would care to discuss his favourite sporting pursuits in front of Lady Elizabeth and her father.’ Even Lord Cheshire nodded conspiratorially before he saw her expression and blushed like a beetroot.

  How charming! They were all closing ranks to try to make Hal uncomfortable, intent on dredging up his past indiscretions to gain her father’s, and probably her, censure in the process. Hot on the heels of her unexpected foray in to flirting with him came the overwhelming urge to defend him although, to his credit, Hal did not appear bothered by the barbs or need her help.

  ‘I like a good gallop across the fields as much as the next man, old boy, but I have never understood the peculiar excitement which comes from stalking a defenceless animal.’

  ‘Hunting does take a particular strength of character, I will grant you.’ Lord Hewitt took a slurp of his soup and failed to notice the drop which missed his mouth and fell on to his intricately tied cravat. ‘It is not for all men. Do not feel bad about not having the stomach for the noble sport.’

  ‘Strength of character?’ I see nothing either strong or manly, or indeed noble, in a pack of over-excited gentlemen, complete with a half-starved pack of snarling hounds, chasing after a terrified fox or deer and then revelling in seeing it being ripped apart at the end.’ Hal’s amused green eyes were locked on Hewitt’s and did not waver.

  ‘I suppose that is where the pair of us differ, Redbridge. I am clearly a man’s man.’

  Three male heads bobbed in agreement, although Lizzie was delighted to see her papa’s nod was very half-hearted to say the least, more a twitch than an actual inclination of the head. He had never had the stomach for hunting either and was obviously having second thoughts about his most recent preferred candidate to be his son-in-law. Hal had shown Hewitt up for the stuffed shirt he was with very little effort. Hal, of course, managed to appear nonplussed and remained his usual, good-natured, charming self even though he was being grievously insulted.

  ‘A man’s man. Yes, Hewitt, I believe you must be. In which case, I suppose that makes me a ladies’ man.’ He looked positively delighted at the prospect.

  ‘Or perhaps, in view of your lack of stomach and immature behaviour, you are still a child, Redbridge, in which case, I think we would all prefer it if you were seen but not heard. Even better, neither seen nor heard.’ He chortled at his own tart wit, blissfully unaware that in one sentence, Lord Hewitt had effectively moved her from mild dislike to hating him with a vengeance—and her father knew it. A new tension settled over the table. One only Lizzie and her father were part of.

  ‘Come now, Hewitt,’ her father said, ‘I am sure you cannot mean that and I am certain you will make a splendid father. Seen but not heard, indeed! That is funny. You sound like a stodgy, old-fashioned and staunch disciplinarian.’

  Of all things, this apparently was the one which most offended. Hewitt’s self-important expression became outraged. ‘I believe discipline is the single most important role of a father, Lord Upminster, and one I intend to take very seriously when I have my own sons. Unruly children grow into unruly adults.’ Hewitt glared at Hal as if to prove his point, then continued undaunted spewing more nonsense out of his pompous mouth. ‘To avoid bad habits forming, it is imperative to raise one’s offspring correctly. Obedience is one of the first lessons they must learn.’

  Insufferable man! ‘Oh, really, my lord, pray enlighten us to more of your thoughts on child rearing. How, for example, does one teach one’s offspring obedience?’ Lizzie voice came out silkily and she watched her father wince out of the corner of her eye.

  ‘I am glad you have asked me that question, Lady Elizabeth, for it shows you are willing to learn and that is a most excellent quality in a young lady. Strict punishments are the key. Spare the rod and spoil the child.’ He smiled and nodded as if he were the unquestionable expert on the subject. ‘Bed with no supper for mild indiscretions, withdrawal of all privileges...liberal use of the strap.’

  ‘And you would use the strap on young children, too?’ Pigs would have to sprout wings and soar through the clouds before she would allow this buffoon anywhere near her son.

  ‘The younger you start, the better.’

  Lizzie’s father stared at her, looking completely miserable. Pleading with her silently not to lose her temper, but it was too late. Whether it caused a scene or not Lord Hewitt was going to receive a piece of—

  ‘My father used the strap on me daily, for as long as I can remember, and look how I turned out.’ Hal’s timely interruption made Lizzie pause. ‘I have lost count of how many times I went to bed without supper, how much of my allowance was held back or how many things he confiscated. Dear Pater was cold, dictatorial and devoid of all humour.’ Hal waved his wineglass conversationally. ‘Yet all that rigid discipline faile
d to achieve what he wanted. We did not respect him. In fact, my sister and I hated him. He had pushed us both so very far away we did not care about his good opinion and made it our life’s work to grow up completely opposite to his wishes. Any father who believes sparing the rod will ultimately spoil the child is doomed for ever to be loathed by their offspring and probably blissfully ignored in the long run. However, it does beggar the question: if you wish to be estranged from them for ever, why have the poor children in the first place?’ Hal smiled sweetly to the table at large. ‘Would you mind passing the salt, please, Cheshire?’ He let the silence stretch as he sprinkled some and stirred it into his consommé, tasted it, then smiled as if he had not just said something earth-shatteringly brilliant. ‘Lord Upminster, Lizzie was telling me there are reports of Napoleon’s health failing.’

  ‘Yes, indeed...’ And just like that calm descended over the dinner table again. Hewitt was po-faced and silent for much of the rest of the meal, his flaring nose plainly out of joint. Without him, pale Lord Roseby kept his comments in check and poor Lord Cheshire continued to blush at everything and did not add anything of any value to the conversation over all five of the ‘impromptu’ courses. A little after eleven, only Hal remained, looking quietly pleased with himself and rightly so. He had been both a subtly attentive suitor, leaving the three dullards in no doubt they did not stand a chance with her, and an intelligent and lively conversationalist who had, frankly, saved the sorry debacle of a meal.

  Like her rat of a fiancé, Rainham, he had an immense talent for charming people, yet Hal was refreshingly different from Rainham on so many levels. Despite his outer layer of superficiality, he proved he had an extensive knowledge of current affairs, had a keen interest and perceptive head for business and clearly not only attended many debates in the Lords, but also paid attention. On many topics, he was more informed than the other young men around the table, who should have known better because they were part of the Government. There was so much more to him than ready charm and Lizzie found herself quietly proud of him.

  Even her father appeared to have revised his poor opinion a little, although he had practically cemented his bottom on the sofa next to his only daughter and made it quite obvious that was where it would stay until Hal left as well. He had also spent the last fifteen minutes unsubtly flipping open his pocket watch and reminding them of the time.

  Something her unlikely comrade found very amusing as he took an inordinate amount of time finishing his second glass of port. With a contented sigh, he placed his glass on a side table and stretched out his long limbs languidly. ‘I suppose I should wend my home, too.’

  ‘I shall show you to the door.’ As soon as Lizzie stood, her father did, too, and she glared at him. ‘I think I can manage seeing Hal out, Papa. I shall only be a minute.’

  ‘I hardly think it is proper to leave you alone with—’

  She held up her hand and cut him off mid-flow. ‘As I recall, I saw out all three of our other guests alone without any issue. In fact, you insisted upon it.’

  ‘Yes—but your father knew nothing untoward would happen with those fellows.’ Hal unfurled his long body out of the chair and elegantly stretched out his spine, his casual and unoffended manner effectively diffusing the situation. ‘I am an altogether different kettle of fish and I completely understand your father’s concerns. If I had a daughter, and she was being courted by someone like me, I would be exactly the same.’ He bent and placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand which made her breath hitch. ‘I shall say my goodbyes to you both here. Goodnight, Lord Upminster. I look forward to seeing you again at the Danburys.’’

  Her father acknowledged the statement graciously, but soon resumed his over-protective bluster. ‘I would appreciate a proper conversation with you this weekend, Redbridge, concerning your exact intentions towards my daughter, because I shall tell you straight—I disapprove of your association. If I may speak plainly to you, sir, I am afraid your reputation precedes you and my Lizzie needs a sensible man in her future.’

  Hal smiled wistfully at this and shrugged in his typical good-natured way. ‘Perhaps. However, from what I know of your daughter, sir, with her clever mind and feisty temperament, I will tell you straight that Roseby, Cheshire and that pompous fool Hewitt are not in her league and, if I may speak to you plainly, too, sir, you do her a disservice by foisting them upon her.’

  What a thoroughly splendid thing to say. The urge to kiss him was instantaneous. Only a small fraction of that urge was born out of gratitude. The rest of her simply wanted to melt against him for being so wonderful. Her father’s mouth hung slack, he was so taken aback at being so politely chastised. For a second his jaw twitched as if he were about to counter, then he clasped it shut tightly, and simply blinked. Hal was still holding her hand in both of his and brought it back to his lips again. Lingered.

  ‘Goodnight, Lizzie darling. Sleep tight.’ And in three broad strides, he was gone.

  Chapter Nine

  Hal had managed to glean enough of the Earl of Upminster’s travel plans over their dinner to know he had important business to attend to at the Foreign Office on Friday and therefore would not be leaving for the Danbury house party until late afternoon. This allowed Hal to time his own journey to the Danbury estate to coincide his arrival within a few minutes of Lizzie’s.

  This did mean delaying his sister Connie, Aaron and his mother, who had wanted to leave directly after luncheon. They were particularly unimpressed with Hal’s prolonged disappearance after luncheon, which in turn made the initial atmosphere in his own carriage tense, to say the least. Of course, the frostiness might also have something to do with his jaunty festive attire. The sprig of mistletoe, with its three remaining white berries pinned to the lapel of his coat, did a splendid job of making Aaron uncharacteristically belligerent. It was near eight o’clock when they rattled up the Danburys’ drive. Eight o’clock and pitch black; they were all stiff, starving hungry and absolutely freezing cold.

  ‘Had I known we would be travelling this late into the evening I would have had additional hot bricks and blankets put in the carriage.’ Connie rubbed her hands together to ward off the chill of the brisk night air. ‘I really cannot understand what you were thinking, Hal, to have delayed us for so many hours.’

  ‘Oh, I think I know exactly what he was thinking,’ said Aaron, glaring at the fancy coach being unloaded just in front of them, the Upminster crest barely visible in the darkness. Connie’s eyes followed her husband’s and a knowing smile crept up her face when Lizzie’s well-turned silk-clad ankle chose that exact moment to appear out of the door. Hal allowed his own eyes to feast upon the sight, purely because he had always had a particular fondness for a good pair of legs regardless of the female they happened to be attached to, and then hastily stared elsewhere when he saw his sister’s interested expression.

  ‘Oh, yes...now I think I understand it, too. Come along. Let us not waste the opportunity my lovestruck brother created for himself. We must befriend her.’ And she was off, like an arrow shot from a crossbow, dragging their mother by the arm on a determined trajectory towards Lizzie and her father.

  But Aaron stood rooted to the spot, his arms folded across his chest and his dark eyes narrowed. A stance which made Hal laugh. ‘Now don’t be a sore loser, old chap. It is hardly my fault your wife is thrilled with my association with Lady Elizabeth. Look at them all talking. I will lay money on the fact she is already extolling my virtues.’ He patted his mistletoe corsage for effect. ‘I sense another one of these berries will be gracing your palm imminently.’

  ‘My wife might be extolling your virtues, but I intend to spend the weekend appraising Lady Elizabeth of your true nature.’

  Poor Aaron. Hal almost felt sorry for him. ‘Do your worst. Not only do I suspect it will not make one whit of difference, I am supremely confident she will happily let me continue to court he
r. By the ball on Twelfth Night, you will have all five berries.’

  ‘And then what?’

  ‘What do you mean and then what? Why, you will be spending January the seventh in my stables, that ageing back of yours creaking from the exertion of an inordinate amount of shovelling.’

  Aaron waved this off stony-faced. ‘That aside, what are you going to do about Lady Elizabeth? It is morally wrong to trifle with a woman’s affections when you have no intention of making a commitment.’

  Of course, Aaron’s conscience would surface now that Hal was winning the wager—however, Hal had no intentions of telling his friend the devious truth. ‘Do you wish to concede the wager?’

  ‘You should be the one to concede it, Hal.’

  ‘I will extricate myself from the situation gently once I win.’ The lie tripped easily off his tongue. Lizzie was as opposed to marriage as Hal was, thank goodness, which was the most significant part of her attraction, and their arrangement was concluded after Twelfth Night regardless. ‘I have not made any declarations or promises, nor have I even alluded to the prospect of more and, for the record, neither has she. This is merely a flirtation. For both of us.’

  ‘She invited you to sit at her father’s table. That is fairly significant.’

  The conversation was beginning to make Hal uncomfortable. He couldn’t tell the truth, yet pretending he had no conscience over the situation did not sit right with him either. If he and Lizzie did not have a particular and mutually beneficial arrangement, he already knew he would concede the wager. She was too good to be trifled with and if anyone else tried it he would nip it in the bud swiftly and mercilessly, something he never thought he would ever hear himself think about a woman he had no family connection to. ‘Lizzie knows what I am, Aaron, and doubtless sees the situation for exactly what it is. Come along. We are appearing rude by not joining the ladies.’