His Mistletoe Wager

by Virginia Heath

  Feeling a touch self-righteous, Hal stripped off his gloves and greatcoat and tossed them on to a ridiculously spindly-looking chair. He did not dare sit on it. The legs were so thin his immense bulk would likely shatter it into matchsticks. As there were no other chairs in the bedchamber, he eased his big body down on to the mattress to wait. Ten minutes later and still no sign of her, Hal plumped up a pile of pillows to rest against and made himself comfortable.

  The object of his frustration eventually came in, clutching a book and wearing a gossamer nightgown which made his throat constrict with sudden lust before she shrieked a little too loudly for comfort and lunged at him, brandishing the book like a club.

  ‘Shh! It’s just me... Hal.’ He placed one finger to his lips and held his other hand up in surrender. She skidded to a halt inches away, looking delightfully confused, the book still raised like a shield.

  ‘Hal?’ Shock quickly turned to anger. ‘Hal! What are you doing here?’

  ‘Try to whisper, Lizzie darling. I would rather we did not alert the household to my presence.’

  Her eyes turned swiftly to the door before fixing on him. The candlelight made them appear darker, like the sky before a thunderstorm. Judging from the thunderous expression hovering around the edges of her confusion, it was an apt description. ‘How did you get in?’

  ‘Seeing as your henchman Stevens refused me entry earlier—repeatedly, I might add—I had to resort to covert methods to gain entry.’ Feeling pretty pleased with himself for circumventing the many layers of security and certain he could soften her tense mood with his charm, he shot her his best naughty grin and settled back against the pillows smugly. ‘I scrambled up the wisteria.’

  She became instantly furious. All signs of delightful bewilderment vanished and she glowered down at him with her hands fisted at her sides. ‘How dare you! How dare you sneak into my house. My bedchamber! And what the hell do you think you are doing on my bed?’

  ‘So much for whispering.’ At this volume, it was only a matter of seconds before the alarm was raised and Stevens would eject him bodily. ‘Could you try to lower your voice an octave or two? Take a couple of deep breaths...try to remain calm.’

  ‘Calm!’ Her finger prodded sharply into his breastbone. ‘You expect me to remain calm when you have broken into my house?’

  ‘I needed to talk you.’

  ‘I wrote you a letter!’

  ‘Which said next to nothing!’

  ‘So you thought the best course of action was burglary?’

  The accusation made him smile. ‘Er... I think you will find that a burglar enters a property with the intention of removing items from it.’ He held his palms up for effect. ‘Not guilty, your honour. Now please sit down...’

  ‘Get out.’ The finger jabbed again, repeatedly, firing his temper again. He was the one trying to be reasonable, yet she appeared oblivious to the fact her recent behaviour had been anything but.

  ‘Not until I get what I came here for.’

  She recoiled then, seemed to remember she was dressed in only her nightgown and snatched the eiderdown to wrap around her like a shield. ‘How dare you!’ Her jabbing finger flapped ineffectually near his face. ‘You are a scoundrel, Henry Stuart. How dare you assume that I would climb into bed with you just because I allowed you to kiss me?’

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ He stood up then and took some enjoyment in looming over her. She took a panicked step backwards and he closed the distance, then watched her eyes widen with indignation.

  ‘Keep your hands to yourself, sir!’

  Furiously, he waved both of them in front of her face. ‘You have got completely the wrong end of the stick and, frankly, I am insulted. I have never had to force myself on a woman and I resent the accusation. What the blazes has got into you? I came here to talk to you. To get some answers. To hear the damn truth rather than the pack of lies you have fed me!’

  ‘You were on my bed!’

  This was really not turning out as he had intended, although he supposed reclining on her bed with his feet crossed and his elbows thrown above his head might be construed as a seductive position, and he supposed he had just scared the living daylights out of the girl. ‘In case it has escaped your notice, I am still wearing my boots and everything else for that matter. And need I remind you that it was you who kissed me!’ She had the good grace to look guilty, but still clutched the eiderdown about her as if he were some pillaging Viking intent on ravishing her. Hal sighed and plopped his bottom back down on the edge of the bed. ‘I was merely waiting for you. Just to talk. That doll’s house chair at your dressing table didn’t look like it could hold my weight.’

  Her eyes flicked to the chair, then back to him before he watched her shoulders drop and her combative stance disappear. ‘You still should not have come here. Not like this.’

  ‘Did you give me any other choice?’ Hal stared directly into her lovely blue eyes and she dipped her head. It was all the acknowledgment he needed. ‘I called several times today. You knew that. You had your henchman give me this letter.’ He tossed the missive on to the mattress and sighed. He wanted her guard down, not up. ‘When it became apparent you had no intention of honouring me with a proper explanation for your odd behaviour, and because I have genuinely been frantic with worry, I had to resort to sneaking in. And I would like it noted that sneaking in was no mean feat. Thanks to you and your uncharitable butler I had to stand in the cold for hours waiting for the opportune moment.’

  ‘A gentleman doesn’t climb up a lady’s wisteria uninvited.’

  ‘A lady doesn’t send a letter to a gentleman terminating their acquaintance, especially if the said gentleman has selflessly proposed to the lady hours before and then ridden across two counties in the small hours to check she was well. What the blazes is going on, Lizzie? I think I deserve to know.’

  ‘Please don’t make this any more difficult than it already is, Hal. I had reasons...good reasons for leaving Lady Danbury’s.’ Once again she could not hold his gaze.

  ‘Which are?’

  ‘Things I would prefer to keep to myself.’ Her arms came around to hug herself, an unconscious action which spoke volumes. Hall reached out and tugged at the eiderdown, forcing her to sit beside him.

  ‘You might as well know I am not leaving until you tell me. You’ll have to get that menacing butler of yours to tear me limb from limb first.’ He could sense her indecision, so wrapped his arm around her shoulders and whispered into her hair, ‘I am your friend, Lizzie. Whatever is going on, I want to help.’

  She was still for a long time and he gave her the space to decide what her next move would be. When she eventually spoke, it was in a small voice. He heard the defeat and the fear. The deep well of sadness. ‘You cannot help me, Hal. I fear Lord Ockendon has learned something which will explode into a huge scandal if he shares it with the world.’

  ‘Take it from someone who had been embroiled in many a scandal, they all blow over eventually and I doubt yours is anywhere near as bad as you think it is. I bet you have never dashed across Hyde Park flashing your nakedness to all and sundry.’ He had wanted to make her smile, but the attempt fell flat.

  ‘Oh, it’s bad, Hal. So bad that it is enough to blackmail both me and my father with if Ockendon is of a mind to, which I am in no doubt he is. What I need to decide is whether I want to unleash the scandal, knowing full well it will ruin a great many lives, or whether I can bring myself to agree to the Earl’s demands.’

  Now she was making him very worried. ‘Surely you cannot seriously be contemplating marrying him?’ Something which beggared belief when she had readily turned down Hal’s proposal.

  ‘I hope it will not come to that. Lord Ockendon is yet to bare his hand so I am hoping there is a way out of the mess.’

  ‘There is. Marry me.’ This proposal did not m
ake him feel as nauseous as the first had. A worrying turn of events in itself, although like the first time, his heart told him it was right. His hand came up to touch her cheek and he traced the pad of his thumb over her lips. ‘I think there is more than friendship between us, Lizzie. Don’t you?’ Of its own volition, his face moved towards hers. Her chin tilted up and her eyes travelled to his lips. She felt the pull of attraction, too. Her body had instinctively turned to press against his. ‘We will weather the scandal together.’ The tips of their noses touched. It was a strangely intimate and compelling moment which he did not feel the urge to rush. Their mouths were a whisper apart. He could feel the steady, rapid beat of her heart against his own pounding one. Their shallow breathing in perfect tandem. The warm and comforting sense of rightness. She pulled away before he could kiss her.

  ‘I can’t marry you, Hal.’

  ‘But you can marry him? A man you hate and who terrifies you?’

  ‘I won’t marry him either. I shall disappear. It is not as if I am unused to hiding.’

  ‘Hiding?’ Lizzie was talking in riddles. Hal still had no idea what sort of a mess she was involved in and was downright angry at the rejection of yet another proposal without any sound reasons as to why. The woman was infuriating. He took a deep breath to prevent himself from shouting. He reached for her again, a little desperately. ‘Just tell me what the blazes is...’ The bedchamber door opened and the angry, frustrated outburst died in his throat.

  ‘Mama... I had a bad dream.’

  A dark-haired little boy came in, rubbing his eyes with one chubby hand and clutching a tatty stuffed toy. Lost for words, Hal watched Lizzie stand, the heavy eiderdown she had wrapped around her falling to the floor as she scurried to the child. Bent down. Lifted him into her arms. ‘My poor darling.’ She ruffled his hair and kissed the top of his head. ‘It was only a dream, Georgie. It cannot harm you.’ Her eyes sought Hal’s with what looked like regret.

  ‘Mama?’ The word came out strangled. Incredulous. Hal scrambled to assimilate this new and totally unexpected information.

  She turned towards him proudly then, clutching the child to her protectively. ‘Yes. Mama.’

  ‘Who is he?’ The boy stared at Hal, clearly only just registering his presence.

  ‘A friend.’ She watched him defiantly. ‘He is leaving. He won’t be coming back.’

  ‘I don’t understand...’ Although he was beginning to, good grief he was beginning to, and she watched his face dispassionately as all manner of emotions skidded haphazardly across it unchecked. Shock. Disbelief. Disappointment.

  Horror.

  Her cornflower eyes hardened at that. ‘I am sure you can let yourself out in much the same manner you let yourself in.’ A brittle tone, like jagged glass. ‘I am going to sleep with my son in the nursery. We are leaving in the morning. Goodbye, Hal.’

  In a billowing cloud of linen, she turned and went.

  For the first time in their short acquaintance, Hal felt no desire to go after her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The snow started some time in the middle of the night. She knew this as she had watched every second of the interminable darkness tick by, worrying. About hers and Georgie’s future, Ockendon’s threats and the potential damage to her father’s reputation and career from the impending scandal. As awful as those things were to consider, they were less painful than recalling the expression on Hal’s handsome face when he had realised she had a child. All her procrastinating and avoidance in appraising him of the truth had, she realised, been as much about protecting herself from his inevitable reaction as it had been about protecting her family. She could have confided in him sooner, from the outset, in fact, and in all probability he would have still helped her and kept her secret. He was that noble beneath all the swagger. But a part of her had enjoyed the frisson of attraction between them. It had made her feel young, unburdened and gloriously alive again, even though she had known it was not something which she could ever consider acting upon. Until she had acted upon it and now wished she hadn’t. Being held by him, feeling his passion and losing herself in his kiss had made her yearn again for all the things she could not have as a mother of another man’s baby. A wastrel’s son.

  Watching him recoil the second after he had proposed again had cut like a knife. Lizzie had been so hideously disappointed in him then, even though she had no right to expect otherwise. Hideously disappointed in him and ashamed of herself. The guilt at feeling shame for the innocent child in her arms galvanised her. Georgie was her everything and she was tired of fearing the judgement of others. Her final words to Hal had been curt and proud. How dare he judge her by a different set of standards to those in which he had lived his own life? Hal had likely lain with more women than he could remember. She had only been with one man and had paid the ultimate price. So she had called him on it when her son had asked, inwardly daring him to contradict her.

  He won’t be coming back.

  Hal had not denied the assertion. He had left swiftly afterwards. She knew because she had been compelled to check, just in case some miracle had occurred and he had dithered. They had shared a poignant and special moment before Georgie had burst through the door, so she hoped perhaps he would linger. What for or what she wanted beyond that was not something she allowed herself to consider. But her bedchamber was chilly and empty, much like her bruised and battered heart, so she supposed she had an answer even though it turned out not to be the one she wanted.

  * * *

  By the time Lizzie dragged herself exhausted into the breakfast room a little past dawn, there was a foot of fresh snow covering the ground and, by the looks of the pewter sky, it was in no mood to stop any time soon. The head coachman had already sent word he believed the three-day journey to Cheshire was foolhardy in the extreme until the weather cleared and she had to bow to his judgement. The larger roads would be difficult, the smaller ones and the narrow lanes which ran through the Peaks in the north would be too dangerous. Even the elements were conspiring against her.

  To his credit, her papa did not gloat at the news she was staying, albeit temporarily. He simply nodded and patted her hand. ‘I will sort all of this out, Lizzie. I promise you.’ Then he had bundled himself into a heavy coat and trudged out of the front door. She had no idea where he was going and there was no point in asking him. If he was hellbent on protecting her and Georgie, he was notoriously tight-lipped about how he intended to go about it and would tell her no more than he thought she should know. For five years, he had done much the same and would continue in the same vein unless she put a stop to it all once and for all. But she had seen the tight lines of worry which pulled at his face, the heavy, burdened gait and wished he would include her in his ongoing attempts at protecting her. Being kept in the dark was soul destroying.

  Sat in the drawing room impotently staring at the walls, Lizzie decided to tackle the problem head on. She went to her mother’s old escritoire and put pen to paper. Her note to the Earl of Ockendon was short and to the point. She was tired of his pointed comments and veiled threats and demanded he explain himself, asking him to meet her in St James’s Park this very afternoon or, failing that, to leave her alone.

  As much as she dreaded the meeting, it was necessary. The young footman she sent with the note came back directly with the reply. It was shorter than Lizzie’s, missive and menacing.

  I am glad you have come to your senses. Two o’clock. Come alone.

  In five hours she would know her fate. Until then, she would force herself to enjoy a blissful couple of hours with her son. Perhaps the last blissful hours they would be able to spend in quite some time.

  Stevens appeared out of nowhere and coughed politely. ‘There is a caller at the door, Lady Elizabeth. The Earl of Redbridge.’

  The pang of longing and pain caught her unexpectedly and she winced. ‘Tell him I am
not at home, Stevens. We have been through this.’

  The butler frowned, clearly uncomfortable. ‘He is not here to see you, Lady Elizabeth. Or your father. He says he has come to visit Master George.’ He whispered this as Georgie was in earshot, drawing another insect on the floor near her feet contentedly. ‘Under the circumstances, I ushered him inside. Just in case any passers-by overheard.’

  Lizzie fought to keep her nerves under control. She hadn’t expected to hear from Hal again and could not imagine why he had called asking to see her son. ‘Where is he now, Stevens?’

  ‘I put him in the green drawing room, Lady Elizabeth.’

  ‘And I decided not to stay in it.’ Hal’s dark head popped around the doorframe and he eyed the now outraged butler warily. ‘Please don’t kill me, Stevens. I am not worth going to gaol over.’

  Stevens looked to Lizzie for guidance and would, no doubt, cheerfully pummel Hal into a soggy mess at her instruction. He had been recruited specifically to protect her and her little boy, and took the responsibility seriously. Too seriously if his expression was to be believed. ‘You can leave us, Stevens. I shall call if I need you.’

  Hal edged into the room as her bodyguard glared at him murderously. ‘I will be just outside the door. Just outside the door.’

  ‘Message received and understood, Stevens. Whilst you are out there, I don’t suppose you could rustle up some tea?’ Hal grinned cheekily and she quite admired his bravado. ‘Only it’s dashed cold outside and I could do with something to warm me up.’

  Stevens grunted and stalked out, slamming the door behind him in an obvious display of superior masculine strength. ‘I don’t think your butler likes me. It’s most upsetting when one considers all of the cheerful little chats we have had every time I’ve come to call and he’s merrily sent me packing.’

  She would not be charmed by him, although the charm did not completely cover his discomfort. There was an awkwardness about him she had never seen before. An air of trepidation. ‘Why are you here, Hal?’