A Christmas Bride Part 11

Ten.

Timothy closed the accounts book and leaned back in his chair. This latest letter updating the new factory project had been just what he had hoped for. The land was available at a good price, and there were plenty of potential employees who were willing to accept the generous wages that he insisted all who worked for his grandfather be paid.

"If you want the best, you have to be willing to pay for them," he mused. How many times had he said that to himself and others?

"That is why I thought you would be willing to pay so well for your Serenity's a.s.sistance." Felix came into the small room that was not much wider than the bay window at its far side. Walking past Timothy's desk, he sat in the room's only other chair.

"I have wondered why you were so generous with my money." Putting the book into a drawer, Timothy stood and stretched. He went to the window. The sun had pa.s.sed its zenith and was heading toward the western horizon, warning that he had missed the midday meal.

Felix lit a cigar from a brand taken out of the fireplace.

"Mrs. Scott will be distressed to see you smoking around the greenery," Timothy said.

Felix settled back in his chair and tilted the cigar to watch the smoke drift across the room. "Mrs. Scott would not get upset about the greenery getting all scented with smoke if she did not put it up everywhere."

"It is Christmas." Timothy stood by the bay window and looked out over the grounds. It was snowing again. Winter seldom started with such a vengeance here on the moors. The gray sky fit in perfectly with his mood. Not only had every attempt to invent the perfect page-turner for Theodora been an absolute failure, but he wanted to relish that kiss that had been interrupted.

"Where is a man supposed to enjoy a funker when the whole house is bedecked with holly and mistletoe?" He chuckled. "Of course, you have every reason to enjoy having the kissing boughs about. It seems somehow ironic that you did not want to make a jumble of Grandfather's birthday, but you are the one who has received the finest gift."

"What are you babbling about?"

Felix leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Why, old chap, I am not blind. I see you skulking about the house, seeking any chance to be with your dear Serenity. You are even hanging paper snowflakes from the ceiling, for heaven's sake."

"You are queer in your attic, old chap," he said in a snarl, turning to look back out the window.

"Aha!"

"Aha what?" He should not be encouraging a continuation of this conversation, but he preferred anything to his thoughts, which were a mixture of recriminations and cravings. Could Theodora be right about Felix and Melanda Hayes? They had been friends since childhood, so she must know of Felix's philandering ways that took him in and out of the boudoirs of many houses in Town. He could not guess why she would be such a muttonhead as to give her heart to Felix, because he had heard Melanda boast more than once that she would marry only for love or for a grand t.i.tle. As Felix would never have the family's t.i.tle, Melanda must have a deep affection for him.

"I recognize that tone." The chair sc.r.a.ped as Felix came to his feet. Crossing the room, he wedged himself between Timothy and the window, so Timothy had no choice but to look at him. "That tone means the point has struck too close to the mark."

"And what mark is that?"

"That you have developed a tendre for Miss Serenity Adams."

He shook his head. "Now I know you are deranged. Why would I do something skimble-skamble like that? As soon as the holidays are over, so is this so-called betrothal."

"But that does not mean you cannot be attracted to her."

Timothy smiled coolly. "That is true, and it is true she is a lovely woman with a warm heart."

"'Tis not her heart that you think of warming you."

"Felix, you should not speak so of her."

Felix looked at the ceiling and crowed with laughter. "Are you forgetting that she is not of quality? She is in service, a lady's maid. Who better to offer her services to than you?"

Timothy's hands were on his cousin's lapels before he realized what he was doing. With a curse, Timothy shoved him away. "If you say nothing of this again, I shall forget you said anything of it now."

"Be that as it may," Felix replied, brus.h.i.+ng his coat as if Timothy had dirtied it, "you and I may pretend to put this conversation out of our minds, but you cannot put her out of your mind." He laughed sharply. "She is quite taken with you, too, if you have failed to notice."

"I have not." He could not rid himself of the image of Serenity's wondrous eyes so close to his in the moment before hers closed in antic.i.p.ation of his kiss. It seemed to be seared onto his eyeb.a.l.l.s, a ghostly vision of beguilement that followed him everywhere.

"Did you consider that she might want you to show her the course of your thoughts? It appeared she was more than willing when we intruded upon you yesterday."

"I cannot speak of the course of her thoughts." Another lie to add to his list of bangers. He had seen the truth in Serenity's gaze and sensed it in her touch. She knew the danger of succ.u.mbing to this temptation, but she was willing to face that risk.

Puffing on the cigar, Felix went on as if Timothy had not spoken, "She would not dare to show you openly how she would like to share more than cutting out fake snowflakes with you, and she probably will push you away if you try to seduce her-the first few times, for she is trying to be a lady. You might not find her as averse as you think in the long run."

"There is no long run."

Felix shrugged his shoulders. "Then you are a fool not to take advantage of what is before you right now. I, on the other hand, have gained the privilege of kissing more than Melanda's hand."

"A gentleman does not speak of these things."

Felix laughed. "A gentleman does not need his cousin to point out the truth that a serving woman is pining for him to pursue her and take her as his special gift for the holiday season."

Timothy started to retort, then walked out of the room. He had no answer. Everything Felix said was true.

"And this is my very favorite painting of the front of the house near the Swiss border." Aunt Ilse's collection of chins bounced with her enthusiasm as she held up the canvas in front of Serenity. "Usually this hangs right over the hearth in the solarium. I love how the suns.h.i.+ne dances off the colors."

"It must be lovely." Serenity bit back the question she wanted to ask. The canvas must be at least two feet wide on each side. Why did Aunt Ilse bring it back and forth to Cheyney Park? Certainly she could have had a miniature of it done.

"Especially in the wintertime, when the sun reflects off the snow. Of course there can be snow on the mountain peaks all summer. It is so lovely there. I seldom come back to England for Christmas, because the holidays are so dreary here. We have so much more fun on the Continent." She leaned the canvas against a table where the previous dozen she had shown Serenity were propped. Taking Serenity's hands in her bejeweled ones, she said, "You and Timothy must spend your wedding trip with Rupert and me. We shall show you all of Europe. It will be such fun."

"I am not sure what Timothy has planned."

Aunt Ilse smiled. "My dear, dear, dear, nave child. You and I must have some heartfelt discussions. You must learn to let your husband think he is making the decisions. Who knows better what a husband should have than his wife?"

"To own the truth, I have thought about no plans beyond this holiday season."

"But you plan to marry before the Season begins."

"Yes, yes, we do." Serenity wondered when Timothy had set a date for their supposed wedding. She wished he would inform her of the tales he was spinning. "Did Timothy tell you that?"

"No, I did." Felix walked into the room, smiling. "I hope it was not supposed to be a secret, Serenity." He chuckled. "If you and Timothy had made plans to run off to Gretna Green, you would be disappointing everyone in the family, for the last big wedding here was yours, I believe, Aunt Ilse."

"I believe you are right." Aunt Ilse brushed back her fading blond hair, which must have been as spectacular as Timothy's when she was a young miss. "That was a stunning day. The sun shone, and the birds sang a special song."

"No one was disappointed that day, as they were when Timothy and Charlene canceled their wedding plans."

Serenity sat straighter, but swallowed her gasp. When she saw Felix's grin, she knew he had come here specifically to let her know this. Timothy had planned to marry before? She thought of the many times he and others had paused in mid-sentence when they spoke of the recent past. Timothy must have invented a fiancee when he wanted to rea.s.sure his grandfather that he was doing his best to get the t.i.tle an heir.

She was saved from answering when a footman came to the door. He bowed and said, "Mr. Wayne, your presence is requested in the foyer."

"A caller?"

"Yes, sir." He bowed again before hurrying away.

Felix offered his arm. "Aunt Ilse, would you like to join me to see who is calling?"

"Delighted, my boy." She rose with a whisper of satin and lace. "I wonder who it could be." Pausing at the door, she asked, "Serenity, my dear, are not you joining us?"

"I thought I might-"

"Nonsense!" Aunt Ilse motioned for her to stand and follow them. "We shall greet this visitor; then I shall have that discussion with you that you must have posthaste. I cannot believe that your mother neglected your education like this."

"My mother died when I was younger than Theodora." Serenity halted in midstep. That was the truth, a st.i.tch of memory that somehow had been resewn into her mind. She clasped her hands in front of her as she recalled the day her mother had died. Around her was a sea of black. She could hear weeping and see the raw wound of the opened earth. The suns.h.i.+ne was sparkling off the sea beyond some cliffs where houses were set close together. Yet she could not see a single face or anything to distinguish this village from the hundreds that lined the British coast.

"Serenity?"

At Aunt Ilse's impatient call, Serenity regretfully shook off her thoughts. She did not want to lose these memories again, but they offered her no help now. Hurrying to where they waited, she said nothing as they went down the stairs to meet whomever was waiting in the foyer.

Serenity could not keep from smiling when she saw Timothy below them, just stepping off the lowest step. Nor could she halt her feet from carrying her down the stairs with untoward speed. When he turned, he offered her a smile of his own. He held out his hand, and hers rose to weave her fingers through his. He folded his elbow, drawing her closer.

"I hear we will be stringing berries next," he said with a laugh. "Does Theodora wish to have berries to feed her bear in her snow den?"

"To own the truth, your aunt asked me to help with that."

"Why?"

"I am not sure. She said we all would be pleased to see how she intends to use the strings of berries." She glanced up the stairs. "I thought we would bring Theodora to the parlor later this afternoon and begin the work."

"An excellent idea. Then we show off what we have accomplished at dinner."

The front door opened, sending an icy wind swirling around the foyer. Branson held out his hand for the cloaked man's hat as he greeted him.

Serenity stared. As surely as she had known that bit of memory was of her mother's funeral, she knew she had seen this man before. Again disquiet surged through her, but she was not certain why.

When Timothy drew her forward, he said, "Welcome home, Uncle Arnold." He smiled at her. "Serenity, allow me to introduce my uncle, Arnold Wayne, Felix's father. Actually, to keep you from being confused, I should say my grandfather's nephew. Uncle Arnold, this is Serenity Adams."

"Your betrothed?" asked Mr. Wayne with a broad smile.

"A pleasure, Mr. Wayne," she said, trying to ignore her instinctive yearning to pull her hand away. She was not sure what was causing the uneasiness in her stomach.

Arnold Wayne resembled his nephew more than his son, because he had pale golden hair. It did not have the sheen of Timothy's hair, which seemed to capture the sunlight. His nose was broader, and his eyes seemed to be watching all of them with an odd intensity.

And what was oddest of all was that she was sure she had seen him before. Although she knew that was unlikely, she could not rid herself of that sensation. She had endured it with only one other person-Felix Wayne.

Mayhap they had called at the household where she had been in service. If that were so, she could have seen them when they called, although they would have not taken note of her.

Sorrow cut through her. If Mr. Wayne had recognized her, he might have been able to answer some of the questions that haunted her. The foremost one was her real name. Then she wanted to know why she had glimpses of a mother and a father, but the idea of a brother and sister seemed alien.

Mr. Wayne bowed over her hand. "I am delighted to meet you. I trust you will allow me the informality of family, so I may call you Serenity."

"Of course," she replied, although she wanted to ask, Have you seen me before?

"You are every bit as beautiful as Felix led me to believe." He smiled at his son. "You did not tell me that Serenity would be joining us here at Cheyney Park."

"It was a surprise for all of us." Felix chuckled. "But a most pleasant surprise."

"You must tell me all about it while I go up to my rooms and change into something appropriate for dinner." He looked down at his clothes, which were stained with mud. "I had hoped to get here earlier, but the weather is determined to make this celebration an intimate one with only family." He flashed a smile at Serenity. "Or future family."

She smiled back. She could not fault him for her own uncertain memories. Why should she trust a single one of the images that flashed through her head? Even though she believed the ones of her father and mother were true, she could not swear to that.

As Felix and his father climbed the stairs, Aunt Ilse following them and chattering about how much she had to show her cousin, Timothy said, "If we want to get started stringing those berries, we should begin now. Uncle Arnold will want us men to stay late at dinner tonight over port and cigars. He always has many opinions that he likes to air."

"It does not sound as if you agree with all of them," Serenity replied.

"I agree with a few of them some of the time." He grinned as he offered his arm. Leading her up the stairs, he glanced toward the window. "He is right about one thing. If this snow continues to fall as it has, Grandfather's birthday ball will be a very lightly attended one."

"Which may please him."

He paused on the stairs. As she continued up and around the banister at the top, he put his hand on hers. He looked up at her as if she were standing on a balcony and he in the garden below. "You seem to understand my grandfather well already."

"He likes his quiet. I believe he would rather spend his day with a book than anything or anyone else."

"He says often that reaching an advanced age allows him to do as he wishes instead of as society wishes."

She laughed. "I have heard him say that." Biting her lower lip, she hesitated, then asked, "Why, then, are you planning such an a.s.sembly to celebrate his seventieth birthday?"

"Because he would be distressed if we did not."

"I don't understand."

He laughed as he stroked her fingers beneath his on the railing. "Neither do I, but that is the way Grandfather is. He has his opinions of how things should be done. His life should be quiet when he wishes it to be quiet. He can have a grand party, although he wants the guests not to disturb him before that hour." His smile faded. "And he wants his heir to have an heir or two of his own before his thirtieth birthday."

"Felix tells me that you had intended to marry."

"Felix has a problem with keeping any secret." Timothy continued up the stairs.

She stepped in front of him to keep him from walking away. "Then why have you taken him into your counsel about all of this?"

"He was the one who persuaded you to sell a few weeks of your time for five hundred pounds, if you will recall. I could hardly keep him from knowing about that."

"No, I mean about the letters you wrote to your grandfather about Serenity."

"Actually Felix had a hand in creating Serenity when Grandfather asked for more details about this paragon who I had told him had touched my heart." He shook his head. "At the time it seemed amusing and harmless. I should have known that no lie is ever without hidden dangers."

"Did you lie because you wanted to hide your broken heart?"

His fingers curved along her cheek. "My pride was hurt, I must own. My heart? Not really. Do you know how few of the ton marry for love?"