‘I knew Christmas was a bad idea,’ he said, turned on his heel, shot back the bolt and was out of the door and across the yard before she could speak.
*
Christmas Eve had been a strange day, Tess decided as she waited in the drawing room for the family to assemble for dinner. The earl had kept to his bedchamber, resting, because he was determined to go to midnight service. Lady Moreland and Maria had been out visiting friends and neighbours with gifts, calling on tenants. The servants had been busy with preparations and Alex and Matthew simply did not appear.
Annie reported that they had ridden off early together. ‘I heard Mr Matthew say, “I don’t blame you for running out on all the fuss,”’ she confided. ‘And his lordship said, “I need to think and I’m damned if I can do it in the house, so come and act like a brother for once and keep me company.” And Mr Matthew said a bad word and laughed and off they went.’
The earl, Maria and Lady Moreland came in as she was puzzling, yet again, about Alex. Was he simply finding excuses to avoid her? Tess stopped fiddling with her fan as she and Dorcas stood and curtsied, and then forced herself to make conversation while Dorcas retired to her usual corner.
‘Where are those boys?’ Lady Moreland said after half an hour of everyone avoiding staring at the door.
‘My apologies, Mama.’ Alex strode in, elegant in immaculate evening dress, Matthew, less polished but still correctly attired, at his heels. Both faces had high colour from having been rapidly warmed after long exposure to cold. ‘We have only just got back.’
‘From where?’ Lady Moreland demanded. ‘I shudder to think what state the goose will be in. Cook will probably hand in her notice this very night.’
‘I wanted to look at the estate, Mama. It has been a long time.’ He looked at his father and then at Tess. ‘I found it put things in perspective. I apologise for leaving our guests, but I see the house is most festively garlanded, so I assume you must have found occupation, Miss Ellery.’
‘I…I am sorry, Lord Weybourn, I did not quite catch what you said.’ Not with you smiling at me like that. The curve of his mouth was tender; the look in his eyes was regretful… Stop it. It means nothing. He is simply apologetic for leaving me all day without a word. That look is not…
He had been out all day thinking, looking at the estate with his brother. He had been reminding himself who he was, what was owed to his name. She could not deceive herself by choosing to see only that smile. Because she was fraught and nervous and aching for him, she saw in his expression what she longed to see. And that was impossible. Must be impossible.
Alex took her into dinner and Tess got through the meal somehow. It was true what the nuns had drilled into the girls: good manners and polite observances would carry you through the most difficult social situations. They would even cover up heartbreak.
Alex sent her no more of those achingly tender smiles. He, too, kept to polite conversation, teased his sister gently, drew out Matthew on the subject of horse breeding and endured his father’s observations on the state of the nation.
Finally Lady Moreland rose. ‘Gentlemen, if you are willing to forgo your port, shall we all retire to the drawing room for an exchange of gifts?’
She received no protests. Even Alex went meekly, Tess noted with relief—and promptly walked straight into Matthew’s arms. ‘Mr Tempest!’
‘Miss Ellery, behold, the mistletoe.’
She glanced up. ‘That is not where I told the footman to put it.’
‘Indeed not, but it is where I moved it to.’ He bent his head, his intent obvious, and then Tess found herself whirled round into Alex’s embrace.
‘Poacher,’ Matthew protested. ‘I would call you out for that, brother, if I were not so dazzled by Mrs White’s new Christmas finery.’ He caught Dorcas’s hand and, despite her squawk of alarm, pressed a bold kiss on her lips.
‘No,’ Tess whispered, caught in the circle of Alex’s arms. ‘It is not…kind.’ He was strong and hard and so wickedly tempting. Just one kiss, a kiss his family would think of as innocent Christmas fun. One last kiss to break her heart.
‘On St Stephen’s Day, if you want to leave me, Tess, I will let you go. I will send you back to London, somehow find you respectable employment. But you gave yourself to me for Christmas and until then, you are mine.’ His whisper was urgent, fierce against her lips. And he kissed her, a kiss as light as a breeze, a mere brush of his mouth, an exchange of breath that left her trembling and close to tears. Then he released her and kissed Dorcas, a wicked smacker that made her laugh and blush before he passed on to kiss his mother and sister on the cheek.
St Stephen’s Day, the twenty-sixth of December. She had not agreed to any length of time to stay. But she had gone to his bed, given herself to him, agreed to come with him to his family for Christmas, so perhaps he was within his rights to make demands. Although to what end, she had no idea. Surely he would not want to make love to her now, not when he knew she was the skeleton in the neighbours’ closet, not when he had settled in his own mind where his duty lay.
And she had not helped the family much, not as she had intended. The earl was not bedridden, Lady Moreland seemed to need no assistance and Alex and his father were on speaking terms, of sorts, without any intervention from her.
‘Are you unwell, Miss Ellery?’
The earl’s abrupt question made her start guiltily. If he only knew who he is harbouring under his roof. ‘Not at all, Lord Moreland. I was deep in thought, that was all. This is all very different from what I am used to.’
‘A nunnery, eh? Not much mulled wine there, I’ll be bound.’
‘No, my lord.’ The footman opened the door on to a blaze of
candlelight and a table laden with parcels and packages. The servants had been hard at work while the family ate. ‘Oh, this looks so festive!’
*
Alex found he was smiling. Not at the decorations or the presents, but at Tess’s obvious delight. She looked like a child for a moment, hands clasped to her heart with delight—and then she was a woman again, the woman he desired, the innocent whose life he had almost ruined. Might still, if he was not very careful, very lucky.