Seduction on a Snowy Night Read online

  He gave the chair’s seat a little brush with his gloves. “This will do.”

  “I will leave you then. I have preparations to make for the day.” She closed the door upon leaving, hoping her father was not turning in his grave.

  * * *

  Adam took his time dressing and going below. He had expected the carriage. He had not expected Nigel to be inside it.

  Caroline sat in the reception hall. “I put him in the study.”

  “I did not expect him, if you are wondering about that.”

  “I was wondering.”

  “I would not invite him here, knowing how you feel. Now, keep the family in the kitchen. My cousin can be dramatic in his anger and I do not want witnesses to his histrionics.”

  “Will he be as angry as that? He has no reason to hate us.”

  Someday he would tell her just why Nigel would be angry. Not all of it, though. It would take a while to decide what she needed to know.

  He entered the study and closed the door. Nigel glared at him from where he sat on a blue chair. A folded paper rested on the desktop within his reach. He tapped his finger on it.

  “Hell of a thing to receive that. Good of you to let me know you were alive, at least.”

  “I sent word as soon as I could. Did you have a good Christmas, secure in knowing I was safe?”

  “Good enough, although Miss Millerson was distraught with worry even with the news.”

  “The hell she was. She was indignant that I did not crawl if necessary to have the privilege of her company.”

  “Now, we talked about that, and about the benefits of that match to you. Come back with me. All is not lost on that account.”

  Adam rested his hips against the desk’s edge. He removed a folded vellum document from his frock coat and set it down. “There will be no match. Here is the special license. You paid for it, so you may as well have it.”

  Nigel fingered the vellum, then tossed it in the fire. Once more he tapped the letter Adam had sent. “What did you mean by the threat in it?” He picked it up and read: “ ‘If you do not want your family, the peerage, and all the realm to know about Amelia Dunham, send your coach to her home two days after Christmas. I will explain all later.’” He threw it down. “Who in hell is Amelia Dunham?”

  Adam tossed the letter into the fire to join the license. “I had intended to have this out with you after I returned from Scotland, but we may as well do it now since you are here.”

  “Of course I am here, when my own cousin threatens me.” His voice boomed in the little space they shared.

  “Swallow your anger until you hear something insulting and wrong. You seduced Amelia at your county fete last summer. She will name you publicly if necessary. She was an innocent, and my guess is she hardly comprehended what you were about until it was too late.” He paused. “I will accept it was a seduction, and not something worse.”

  “Are you judging me? You? That is a fine joke.”

  “For all my sins, I never ruined an innocent. It isn’t done, and you know it. Worse, you did it as an act of revenge. Her father would not sell you some land you wanted. Her sister had just refused again. How much will it cost you to change the route of the canal you wanted to build there, with that land not open to you?”

  Nigel’s face reddened. “Thousands. Fool man. Stupid woman. Stubborn, the two of them. I offered more than it was worth, too.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “So you know of my little indiscretion. I don’t care.”

  “I don’t think the gentlemen in your clubs will think it so little. I am sure your wife will not. She tolerates your mistresses. A bastard born of an innocent you ruined is another matter.”

  Nigel’s face fell. “The girl is with child?”

  “She is at that.”

  His cousin recovered. “And the price of your silence is a carriage to take you to Scotland?”

  Adam sat in the other chair and stretched out his legs. “I am not so good as to stop there. I want much more than that. A settlement for the girl, for one thing. That is the only proper thing to do. Shall we say enough in trust to provide an income of five hundred a year?”

  Nigel chewed his lower lip. “Only if she keeps the child. And if it is a boy, I want to see him from time to time.”

  “I think that can be arranged. You will see him, but he will not see you. There is one other thing you must do.”

  “There isn’t anything I must do, damn it. But let us have it.”

  “Galahad.”

  “I’ll not be selling you Galahad. Or giving him to you, or anyone else.”

  “Not sell. This spring, however, you will send him here to be bred with some mares, so Crestview can rebuild its bloodlines and expand again. Two months of his services are all that is needed.” He averted his gaze. “I have chosen to believe you did not play a long game, and deliberately ruin Dunham with that massacre of his horses so he would be amenable to a land sale.”

  Silence fell beside him. Nigel might have ceased breathing, it grew so quiet. He glanced over to see his cousin looking down at the carpet. And in that instant those blue eyes glanced up and their gazes met. Nigel might appear cowed, but a ruthless star sparkled in his eye.

  He had indeed played that long game. Adam’s chest thickened. In that moment he knew that his dealings with Nigel would only be the most formal sort in the future. He would never be friends with this man again.

  “What did you want that damned carriage for? Damned inconvenient to bring it. Scotland, you said.”

  “In an hour or so I will depart, along with Miss Dunham. Caroline Dunham. We are getting married.”

  Nigel was on his feet in a snap. “The hell you say. I’ll not have it. It will be the end of the allowance you get. This family is a thorn in my side and if you marry into it I am done with you.” He paced and ranted for several minutes.

  Adam just waited.

  He saw the exact moment when Nigel’s good sense broke through the cloud of bluster in his head and he realized what this marriage meant. No more cursing then. Only quiet contemplation. That star began sparkling again. “If you are married to her, you control her land.”

  “Not to sell. I won’t have that right, of course. But the use of it, yes, as her husband that will be mine, assuming her sister is agreeable to my intentions.”

  “So for a price you could allow a canal to go through that parcel in question.”

  “Damnation, I suppose we could.” He feigned shock, then grinned. “Come to me in a month with your proposal. It might be better received if in addition to a payment, you gave us a share of that company.”

  “I already have five partners.”

  “So now you will have six.” He stood. “I must prepare for this journey. I trust you have a horse for your return, or another carriage down the lane.”

  Nigel did not care for being thrown out. He rose in a huff and marched to the reception hall. At the door he paused. “The girl—”

  “She will be well cared for. And I will see that your child is educated and raised properly, whether Amelia marries or not.”

  Chapter 12

  Gretna Green was not the closest Scottish town to Crestview Park, but the roads meant it was the easiest and fastest to access. Two mornings later Nigel’s best coach rolled into the center of the little town and its passengers stepped out.

  Old Tom needed help from Thornhill, but Mrs. Hoover, excited by the day’s event and by her first real journey in years, simply jumped down. She tugged Caroline aside. “I’m still thinking we shouldn’t have left them alone together. Jason has been giving her some long looks. I am afraid he is smitten.”

  “I am sure they will be fine. We couldn’t all come, and Jason is of more use there than Tom would be.” Caroline had not said one word to Amelia to insinuate she had any concerns about Jason, but she had asked Thornhill to speak to Jason himself. He had refused and insisted that Jason would know what to do. Considering Thornhill’s history, she w
ondered what know what to do meant.

  The man in question came toward them with Tom.

  “So do we find the anvil?” Tom asked with a big grin.

  “I think we can do better than that,” Thornhill said. “Every village has a church. We will find it.”

  That did not take long, since it was a small town. Thornhill returned with the vicar in tow, after finding him in a nearby tavern.

  “We don’t get many this time of year,” the vicar said. “I’m happy to witness your vows if you want, though.”

  They entered the little church, cold and damp and dark on this overcast day. Evergreen boughs rested at the base of each window and around the sanctuary. Caroline removed her muff and handed it to Mrs. Hoover. Hand in hand, skin on skin, Caroline and Lord Thornhill faced the vicar to say the vows.

  When it was done, Tom and his wife clapped while Caroline and Thornhill kissed. Then all of them filed back out to the open air.

  “Did I hear tell there’s a tavern around the corner?” Tom asked. “Seems to me this calls for a drink of good whiskey to celebrate.”

  “You two go,” Thornhill said. “We will be there soon.”

  The Hoovers ambled off, arm in arm. Two snowflakes drifted down in front of Caroline’s eyes. Then several more. “Snow,” she said.

  Thornhill took both her hands in his and faced her in the churchyard. “I hope it snows every year at this time, to remind us of taking hay in the wagon and the views from the house.”

  “I look forward to any future we have together. At Crestview I hope, but wherever you go I will go.”

  “Of course we will stay at Crestview. And I can predict the future for you. Crestview will soon be as great as it ever was, and once more that kitchen table will feed fifteen hands and servants. You will have at least two children, a boy and a girl. Amelia will have a son; then she and Jason will have five more. As steward he will live in that cottage, and our children will play together. When the Hoovers pass, we will bury them near your father.”

  He believed every optimistic word. Her throat burned on mention of her father. “Won’t you miss London? Your life was there.”

  He kissed her. “London is in our future, too.” More snow fell now, dusting their garments. He took her hand and they followed the Hoovers’ path. “We will make long visits, so I can attend Parliament and you can enjoy the theater and parties and have time to order new wardrobes.”

  He continued describing a life very different from what she had known, especially the last few years. An impossible life. She allowed his fantasy to sweep her up, however, and she laughed over the details as he continued giving them.

  They found the tavern and heard the sounds of cheer within. He reached for the latch, then paused. “I forgot! How careless of me. I meant to tell you that my cousin gave us a wedding gift.”

  “He did? What is it?”

  “Galahad for two months in the spring.” He opened the door as if he had spoken nothing of consequence.

  She could not move. Galahad. Suddenly all the predictions about Crestview and London and new wardrobes became real possibilities.

  He smiled at her. “Come inside and get warm, darling, and I will tell you the rest.”

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  Chapter 1

  Did you kill him?

  The voice spoke in his head vaguely, as if traveling through distance and fog. Not as the voice of his conscience, the way he had heard the question in the past. A different voice now. A female one.

  I doubt it. Help me here.

  He looks dead to me.

  I promise that he isn’t dead. Now, take this and hold it while I . . .

  A bit clearer now. Closer. So close it made his head bang with pain, like each word was a hammer blow. The more words, the more blows, and the closer they sounded. That made the blows harder.

  Maybe I should call Jason to come here.

  We do not need Jason. See?

  Bam. Bam.

  Bad enough already, without that.

  We are not the ones at fault here. Hold the lamp closer, so I can make sure it is safe. Wait, give the lamp to me. I think he is—He is! Now I wish I had killed him.

  You should never say such things. Even here you should not. What are you doing with that?

  Bam, bam, bam.

  Bringing him around so I can find out why he is here.

  Bam—

  The fog disappeared, washed away by an onslaught of liquid that brought him back to full consciousness. He tipped his tongue out to lick some drips on his lips. Not water. Wine.

  He did not open his eyes right away. He spent a few moments accommodating the pain screaming on his scalp. His legs felt strange and his arms hurt. He tried to move both and could not. He realized they were both tied behind him, and together, bowing his body. Someone had trussed him like a sheep, only backwards.

  He sorted through his aching head for where he was, so he might determine if he was in danger.

  Then he remembered. Hell, yes, he was in danger.

  He opened his eyes to see the end of a pistol mere inches from his head. His gaze traveled up the arm that held it, until he looked into the furious dark eyes of the murderess, Margaret Finley.

  * * *

  Hell.

  Minerva added a few more curses under her breath while she held the lamp close to the intruder’s face. She had not expected to find Chase Radnor skulking around her home. Had she known it was he, she might have hit him even harder with that bed warmer.

  “He looks to be coming to,” Beth said. She raised the warmer as if to give another blow.

  “Put it down, he is tied now and I have my pistol.”

  “He looks big. The ropes may not hold him. He may overpower you. I should be ready just in case.”

  “He will not attack me.” More’s the pity. She would have justification to shoot him then.

  Mr. Radnor had indeed come to. He just did not know it quite yet. His long lashes moved. After a moment he strained against the bonds. Minerva waited for him to accommodate his situation.

  Why was he here? For that matter, how had he even found her? London was a big city, and she made it a point to never associate with the kind of people who would be in his circles. Yet here he was, and suddenly her future had become precarious again.

  Various reactions assaulted her while she trained her pistol on his harshly handsome face. Fear. Anger. Mostly, however, a surge of the unsettled spirit that had plagued her for over a year once, and that she thought she had banished forever.

  Finally those lashes rose. Sapphire eyes focused on her pistol, then his gaze moved up until he looked right into her eyes. He again strained at the ties that bound him. Then the scoundrel smiled.

  “Mrs. Finley. How nice to see you again.”

  Beth sucked in her breath. Her thick body bent so she could dip her capped head closer to the lamp and face. She frowned. “Is that—”

  Minerva nodded. Only two people in London knew Minerva Hepplewhite had once been Mrs. Finley. Well, three, counting the man trussed on the floor of her study. That name, and the life that went with it, had been abandoned almost five years ago, when she, Beth, and Beth’s son, Jason, had come to London.

  “You can untie me,” Radnor said. “I never take chances with pistols, and I am not a danger in any case.”

  “You are an intruder. I think I’ll leave you like that while I swear down information against you,” Minerva said.

  “We both know you will not do that. It would spawn too many questions about you.”

  “I am not afraid of questions.”

  “Aren’t you? You changed your name, after all.”

  “Only to keep people from prying.”

  “Because you wanted to escape what prying would reveal. Now, untie me. I have something important to tell you that will explain why
I am here.”

  She hated how that provoked her curiosity, and also her trepidation. He might tell her that the investigation had been revived. Then again he might reveal that at long last the poacher involved in that accident had been found.

  Or he might tell her that he had come to take her to gaol.

  “Explain yourself first.” She leveled the pistol firmly. “I am not inclined to trust a housebreaker.”

  He gave one furious tug on the ties behind his back. He narrowed his eyes. “I have come to inform you of something that benefits you significantly.”

  “What is that?”

  “Margaret Finley has inherited some money. A great deal of it.”

  A Perfect Match

  SABRINA JEFFRIES

  To my parents, who both love the Christmas season so much, and always made sure we had a good one, even in Thailand.

  I hope we have many more Christmases together.

  Chapter 1

  Yorkshire

  December 1808

  The ballroom at Welbourne Place was so crowded that despite the winter weather, ladies’ fans were flapping as vigorously as wings of doves in flight. Miss Cassandra Isles sympathized. Even the scent of evergreens in the festive decorations—kissing boughs of mistletoe, rosemary, laurel, and holly—didn’t help. If she didn’t escape the stuffy room soon, she might scream! But she didn’t dare leave until Captain Lionel Malet stopped prowling about in search of her eighteen-year-old cousin, Katherine “Kitty” Nickman.

  Cass sighed. On the surface, the captain possessed everything a woman would want in a husband. As the youngest son of a viscount, he had rank and connections. And he certainly was good-looking for his age, with his casually disordered black curls, his blue eyes, and his manly demeanor.

  But he still repulsed Cass. Was it his calculating mannerisms? His brittle smiles? The way he admonished Kitty at every turn?

  Perhaps it was just him, period.