Page 23 of The Widow’s Christmas Surprise

“That will suit excellently, my lady.” Keenly aware of his body’s incipient mutiny, Hugh shot out of his seat. “I will make sure the carriage is readied for you as well as the cart for the luggage.”

“That is very kind of you, Mr. Granger.” She rose and stepped toward him.

Hugh took a step back toward the door. If the lady put so much as a hand on his arm, he’d commit a breach of impropriety the likes of which Francis House had likely never seen before. He’d never lost control with a woman before, but this one . . . Her presence acted as the strongest of spirits, but to his very soul as well as his body. He had to get out of the house now. “Not a’tall, my lady. Good day.”

With the briefest of bows, Hugh turned and fled. But not before catching a glimpse of Lady Kersey’s startled and somewhat sad countenance.

The chill wind was welcome as Hugh stepped into the carriage and rapped for the driver to take him back to Kersey Hall. As he settled back on the seat, Hugh breathed a sigh at his escape without mishap. If the lady was going to have this effect on him merely by being in the same room as him, he would have to be much more circumspect about when he met with her. His still unruly flesh twitched anew when his thoughts strayed back to the sight of her in the rich lavender gown that accentuated her full, round breasts.

He groaned as his cock thumped insistently against his small clothes. This tendre would be the death of him yet. Folly of the worst kind as there was no hope of it being returned. The woman was titled, the widow of an earl. His family was eminently respectable, well landed and well monied. At least he would have been, had he been the first son. And now, with his brother barely clinging to life these many weeks, the very real possibility existed that Hugh would soon have nothing with which to provide for even his sister, much less a lady and her child.

Shaking his head to drum some sense into it, Hugh forced himself to face the stark reality. Maria, the Dowager Lady Kersey, was well above his touch, at least at present. If Kit recovered and no lasting scandal ensued, Hugh might speak to his brother about being set up in one of the family estates. If he had a sum of money to live off of while he put the property on a paying basis, then perhaps . . . just perhaps, he could make his affections for the lady known and offer her a life beyond Kersey Hall.

Those were a lot of ifs to have to overcome, but if he felt this strongly about Lady Kersey, he owed it to himself to at least try to give her the option of saying yes. If she instead said no, at least Hugh wouldn’t resort to the disastrous path Kit had tried to take. He’d merely drown his sorrows if not himself, in his employer’s best cognac. If one was going out in a blaze of glory, one might as well do it up right.

Chapter Nine

Dinner the next night was rather more festive than Maria had expected, even though her reception throughout the day had been abnormally cordial.

When she and Jane had arrived, late in the afternoon, they had been greeted warmly by both Lord and Lady Kersey and shown to the rooms they’d occupied previously. Maria’s room, however, seemed to have undergone a hasty renovation. A new Turkish carpet, beautifully made of red and black wool with a design of intertwining rosettes, leafy tendrils, and a palmette border, took the place of the previous plain green rug. The bed hangings too were new; a thick, rich burgundy cloth with matching coverlet had replaced the green and yellow flowered hangings. The deep color soothed her, whereas the previous, somewhat faded green ensemble had made her feel bilious at times. A final addition of an elaborate folding screen, black and gold, painted in a design detailing several Chinese couples greeting one another, surprised her most—even to her untutored eye the piece looked extremely costly.

Why Lord and Lady Kersey would have spent so much money to refurbish an already serviceable room for a poor relation, there only by their good graces, was quite a puzzlement. Maria intended to consult Jane after dinner, to see if her room had been likewise redecorated and speculate on the reasons behind it.

Now at dinner, although Maria found the food as delicious as before, it was much more elaborately prepared than Cook had done when Maria was mistress at Kersey Hall. She had usually requested two or three simple dishes for her and Jane. Tonight she had counted six courses, and they had not yet come to the end of the meal. Were the Kerseys trying to flaunt their wealth before her eyes in an attempt to cow her? Well, they were beginning to succeed.

She lifted her wineglass to her lips and caught the eye of Lord Wetherby. He smiled across the table and raised his glass to her, his gaze intent on her mouth. Flustered by the obvious interest of this very sensual man, Maria took only a sip of the excellent wine, afraid she might choke and draw attention to herself. Turning to her dinner companion, Mr. James Garrett, she smiled and asked, “How do you find Kersey Hall, Mr. Garrett? It must be very different from your home in America.”

The gentleman wiped his lips on his napkin, and returned her smile. “Indeed it is, Lady Kersey. Our house in Virginia was much smaller, although I must confess I preferred the vista the plantation afforded from the front porch.” His deep brown eyes took on a nostalgic shine. “Sitting out on that porch of an evening, watching the sun set across the rolling lawn that led down to a picturesque creek, well”—he leaned toward her and whispered—“I confess I’d take it over the woods and formal gardens here at Kersey Hall without a thought.”

“You miss your home, then?” Of all the family she’d met, Mr. Garrett had made the most favorable impression upon her. He seemed a truly genuine soul, unawed by the titles his family now boasted. Of course, as the second son, he had no title, but it seemed not to bother him at all.

“I do. If Father can find no occupation for me here, I will be happy to sail back to Virginia and take over the running of Bellevue.”

“Named for the view you spoke of, I assume?”

“I like to think so, although I have no idea really.” Mr. Garrett shrugged. “Neither Father nor Mother has ever spoken about the origins of the estate.”

“Perhaps if you return there you can search it out,” Maria said, as the footman set a plate of small, light cakes in front of her along with a white, frothy syllabub. “Oh, this looks delicious.” She took up her spoon. “And festive. It has been a wonderfully festive dinner altogether.”

“Indeed it has, Lady Kersey.” Somehow the earl, all the way down at the far end of the table, had heard her remark. “You may take that as a compliment to you, my dear. We are feasting in style to celebrate your return to the house.” He glanced at Jane, whose brows had arched delicately over her wide blue eyes. “And you as well, Lady John. The family is happy to be once again under one roof.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Hesitant to say more, Maria almost let her comment end there. The excellent wine she’d just imbibed, however, had sufficiently loosened her tongue to allow her to continue. “Although I will say, I do wonder at it. I left before your arrival at Kersey Hall because I did not wish to trespass on your family’s privacy.”

“Nor would you have done had you stayed in the first place. You are family, my dear.” Lord Kersey raised his glass and beamed at her. “Distant though the connection may be, you are part of the Garrett line now. You and your daughter. Lady Jane must be raised to understand her place both in Society and within the family itself. And what better place for that to occur than her ancestral home?”

“You are very kind, I’m sure, my lord.” Putting a spoonful of the sweet concoction into her mouth assured no more talking for the moment. She still could not fathom why his lordship would want her back in the house. Perhaps it did have something to do with the Garrett family connection. Still, she was a poor relation. Why rejoice in that?

“Yes, Lord Kersey, I dare to say Maria and I were both stunned at your generous offer to return to Kersey Hall.” Jane’s soft, mannered voice hid an intellect that few men could rival. Kersey had best be on his guard or else her cousin would make him look a fool with few words and no wasted motions. “As you pointed out, it is right for Jane to take her place in the household, albeit she will not do so for more than sixteen years. I wonder that you would incur such an expense for her maintenance for all those years to come, when you might as well have turned her and her mother out into the hedgerows.”

“Not into the hedgerows, Lady John.” Lady Kersey spoke up, her voice scandalized. “Lord Kersey would never turn a defenseless woman and child out with no place to go, although I am certain there are those who would do it.”

“I beg your pardon, my lady, my lord, if I seemed to suggest you were a common rogue who would do such a thing.” Jane glanced at Maria sharply, employing their private signal to meet after dinner to discuss whatever turn of events had given her pause. Apparently Jane’s sensibilities had not been convinced regarding Lord Kersey’s altruistic nature. “I can see you are far from common.”

Maria bit her spoon to keep from spewing syllabub all over the table. Jane would be the death of her yet.

Dinner ended at last and the gentlemen rose while the ladies made their way out of the room. Jane sidled up to Maria and whispered, “We must talk. Retire as soon as the gentlemen appear in the drawing room.”

Nodding, Maria followed behind them down the corridor whose walls were resplendent with paintings and artworks in the current fashion, although some done by master artists of previous centuries. It had been her pleasure each evening to walk the hall and stop to gaze at the various paintings. She would have done so again this evening, but Lady Kersey kept them at a fast pace all along the way to the blue and green drawing room.