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Authors: Jane Goodger

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

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BOOK: A Christmas Scandal
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Maggie watched as Elizabeth went to the duke and whispered into his ear. The way he looked at her, God, if a man ever looked at her that way, she would know what pure love was.

Edward saw her coming from the corner of his eye and resigned himself to the fact that he was about to engage in yet another tedious conversation with his dinner partner. Pittswell.
Yes,
he thought with a small bit of triumph,
her name is Miss Pittswell.
Or was that the other one, the one with the large nose? He rather liked her better, come to think of it, and he looked past the blonde to see if the other girl was following. Instead, he saw her. With
him.
Again.

Sir William was a dratted good sort. Solid, dependable, rich enough, if the cut of his clothes said anything. He lived in this district, close to Bellewood, and raised horses, which explained why his friend Rand had taken such a liking to the man. It turned out that some of Sir William’s horses had been sired by the very horseflesh once gracing the ducal stables. He’d never seen Rand get so excited about something as when he showed him a stallion and mare that were descendants of his grandfather’s breeding.

Unfortunately, the handsome Sir William was not one to bore you with the details of his horse rearing if he had any indication that his partner was not interested. He was a well-rounded, well-traveled man who’d spent years abroad with his sons, exploring nearly every continent. He was damned fascinating. Legends more interesting than he himself was. He fairly cringed when he thought about how he’d explained about his books to Maggie, how he’d gone on and on, sounding much like a stodgy old professor about how one could tell a real treasure from a worthless bit of pulp. Maggie had been too polite to tell him just how exceedingly boring he was, but now thinking back, he was lucky she hadn’t drifted off to sleep.

Sir William
was
old. That was one thing in Edward’s favor, if indeed he was vying for her hand. Edward was younger, richer, had a better title, and was probably slightly more charming when he wasn’t boring people to tears by talking about books. He knew, with a slightly sick feeling, that his title meant nothing to Maggie. She appeared completely uninterested in it, in
him,
if he was honest.

“Lord Hollings, are you looking forward to tonight’s performance?” Miss Pittswell asked, as if it was the last thing on earth he would look forward to. He hoped it was Miss Pittswell, so he thought he’d just take the plunge and call her that.

“As a matter of fact, Miss Pittswell, I am. I enjoy the children and they’ve been working very hard.”

Miss Pittswell (he must have been right, for she hadn’t corrected him) pursed her lips a bit, as if recognizing her strategic error. “Indeed. I do remember putting on little shows when I was small. I’m quite certain they were horrid.”

“I’m sure they were,” he said rather distractedly, and only realized what he said when she let out a small gasp.

Edward laughed aloud. “I do apologize. I did not mean that as it came out.”

Miss Pittswell laughed as well, but it came out as such a false sound that Edward found himself trying not to laugh again. It was so absurd, all this social dancing, this please like me, please dance with me, please marry me rot. He’d only been an earl for a little more than two years and already he was weary of it all. The thought of escorting his sister to a multitude of balls and soirees, to the operas, to plays, to Hyde Park, it was almost more than he could bear. No wonder some men married the first pretty thing that interested them; they simply wanted it all to end so they could pursue the women they really wanted. Edward was about to make some excuse to leave the room, that he needed a smoke, that he needed some air, that he needed to be anywhere but in the same room with eligible women, when his sister came to his rescue. It was such an obvious rescue that Edward couldn’t help but beam a smile at her.

“Edward, I wonder if you could help with some of the scenery,” Amelia said. “Some of it’s quite heavy and I fear the children and I could hurt ourselves.”

How wonderfully inventive. “Of course,” he said, then bowing to Miss Pittswell, “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Can I be of any help?” she asked.

His sister, thank God, didn’t miss a beat. “My goodness, Miss Pittswell, that is very brave of you. I fear we’ll be getting very dusty, and the spiders.” She gave a shudder. “I wouldn’t want you to ruin your beautiful gown. Is it Worth?”

Miss Pittswell preened, as Edward was sure his sister planned, and agreed that the last thing she wanted was to get her gown dirty.

“That was lovely,” Edward said when they were alone.

“Thank you. But you should really give credit to Her Grace, for she directed me to save you. Or perhaps she wanted to make certain Miss Pierce was alone with Sir William,” she added thoughtfully and without a hint of guile. “In any case, we really don’t need you unless you want to help.”

Edward scowled. “I’ll help. There’s nothing else to do.”

“My, you sound exceedingly grumpy. Is Miss Pittswell all that bad?”

“It’s all the Miss Pittswells of the world. They all run together into a single marriage-minded girl who wants only to sink her claws into my title.”

Amelia laughed aloud. “Poor, poor Edward. What you need to find is a girl who has absolutely no interest in your title. Miss Pierce would have been perfect. But I fear she’s already been taken.” Amelia gave her brother a sly look, which he immediately recognized for what it was: a transparent attempt to see if he was at all interested in her.

“I have no interest in any woman here,” he said, using all his willpower to not look toward Maggie, who at that very moment let out a delighted laugh. Sir William was a rather entertaining fellow, apparently.

Amelia pouted, then almost immediately brightened. “Don’t worry. After the holidays you’ll have plenty of time to find the right girl.”

“I cannot wait,” he said so dryly that Amelia snorted her disbelief.

 

The children put on a rather entertaining rendition of
Hansel and Gretel,
with the addition of a few more woodland creatures and an extra hostage or two to make certain all the children had a part. Maggie sat next to Sir William, who seemed to genuinely enjoy the production. Amelia played an outlandishly wicked witch, complete with a very large and very crooked false nose. In between her scenes, Amelia ran to the piano and accompanied the action on the “stage” quite wonderfully.

After the show everyone congratulated the children on a job well done, then bid the children good night, led by the harried Lady Matilda. Maggie did not envy her the job of settling that brood down for bed.

“Well, that was rather good, now, wasn’t it?” Sir William said, after the children were out of the room. They stood off to the side, a bit apart from the other adults. “Quite impressive.”

“Far better than my own performances when I was a child. Of course, it was only my brothers and me trying to do all the parts. We weren’t terribly successful.”

“I’m sure you were charming.”

“Actually,” Maggie said jauntily, “up until about a year ago I was a little hoyden, completely unmanageable. Ask my poor mama.”

“Miss Pierce,” Sir William said, sounding terrifyingly serious.

“Yes?”

“Your mother is younger than I am by quite some years. I am more than old enough to be your father.”

“That is all quite true,” Maggie said cautiously.

Sir William moved even farther from the others until they were completely on the other side of the large room. “When my wife died, I had no interest in marrying again. I already had children, was quite content, and frankly no other woman since my wife’s death…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been by myself for a long time. And quite happy. Really.”

“I’m sure you have been,” Maggie said, pretending she didn’t know where this awkward conversation was going.

“I know I am much older than you.”

Maggie pretended surprise only to make him laugh and to make this moment slightly less excruciating for both of them.

“I was wondering if you could ride out with me, Miss Pierce.”

Maggie placed a dramatic hand over her heart. “Oh, thank God, I thought you were proposing, Sir William. Yes, indeed, I think I can handle a riding out with a fine gentleman like you.”

Sir William laughed. “I’m a bit out of practice, talking to women, as you can see.”

“You have done wonderfully all night,” Maggie said, putting him at ease. What else could she have done, after all? Sir William was a nice gentleman and she could find no objection to taking a drive with him. Going for a drive with a man didn’t mean she was hoping for a proposal.

Then a thought, completely unbidden, struck her like a small bolt. What if she
did
marry Sir William? He was old, and likely wouldn’t be too demanding in the bedroom. She decided that if she had to endure such humiliation, at least having it infrequently would be more acceptable. He was wonderful company. He seemed kind and intelligent and she felt completely at ease around him, unthreatened. Calm. Safe.

Sir William stirred none of the feelings she felt when she was around Lord Hollings, who made her heart beat too, too fast, who made her wish and wish and wish for things that could never be.

Besides, Lord Hollings hadn’t asked her to go for a ride. Sir William had.

“When shall we go, sir?”

He smiled at her and she chose to ignore the fact his teeth were rather yellow and slightly crooked. No one was perfect. She pushed her mind firmly away from the thought of Lord Hollings’s straight, white teeth. Perhaps next time she was near enough to him she’d really study his teeth and find them less than perfect.

“If it is a fine day tomorrow, how about then? I’d love to show you my team. Finer horseflesh you’ll not see in all of Britain,” Sir William boasted. Maggie didn’t realize why he’d suddenly started talking rather loudly until she noticed His Grace stop dead in his tracks.

“If they are a fine pair,” the duke said drolly, “then it is because they are descendents of Bellewood stock.”

“Ah, Your Grace. I didn’t see you there,” Sir William said with a wink to Maggie.

“Sir William is helping me to get my stable back in order,” Bellingham explained. “And I do believe it tickles him that a duke is so beholding to him.”

“I am not that shallow a man,” Sir William said, completely insincerely. “I am more than happy to bring your stables up to my standards.”

Bellingham threw his head back and laughed and Sir William joined in. The older man, though far beneath the duke in rank, clapped the younger man on the back companionably.

“I take it Sir William is showing off his horses to you, Miss Pierce,” Bellingham said.

“Yes, Your Grace. After all this discussion I hope to be suitably impressed.”

“Don’t get your hopes up too high,” he said dryly.

Sir William leaned over to her and said in a staged whisper, “He will not forgive me for beating Black Knight at Aintree last spring.”

Bellingham laughed again. “I already have my sights on next year. If you will excuse me, I’m going to check on my wife,” he said with a small bow. “Enjoy your ride, Miss Pierce.”

Sir William nodded and Maggie gave a bit of a curtsy, slightly embarrassed by her lack of social graces. Did one curtsy to a duke only at his arrival or also at his departure? She wondered how Elizabeth got everything straight in her head, but she seemed to have taken to this world of British nobility quite quickly.

“I never know when or whether to curtsy. Or how deeply or to whom,” Maggie confessed.

“I make it a practice to curtsy to everyone,” Sir William said, making Maggie laugh by modeling his curtsy. “As a mere baronet, I am the low man on the totem pole, so I must defer to everyone.”

“What, precisely, is a baronet? I’ve heard of barons, but I confess I haven’t heard of baronet. I thought,” she said with a smile, “that perhaps it was a female baron.”

Sir William laughed, which is what she intended.

“You two seem to be having quite the time,” Lord Hollings said.

“Sir William was beginning to explain the intricacies of the British nobility. Apparently, he’s a mere baronet, which is much better than being a ‘mister’ but beneath a duke.”

“Or an earl,” Sir William pointed out, with a nod toward Lord Hollings.

“I find all this Sir this and Lord that and His Grace rather confusing. And I never know what to call the women. Or daughters. Or sisters. Your sister is a Lady, is she not?”

“Yes, but only since I got the earldom.”

“Lord Hollings’s wife will be a countess,” Sir Williams said.

“Fancy,” Maggie said, pretending to be enthralled.

“Except he’s never going to marry, so there will be no countess.” Amelia had come up to them, apparently drawn by their
joie de vivre,
beaming a smile at her older brother.

“Not marry? Why ever not?” Sir Williams asked.

“He claims he cannot find a suitable bride. England is positively filled with girls who would give anything to be his bride. And he doesn’t even need an heiress,” Amelia said, clearly goading her brother.

Maggie watched as Lord Hollings attempted a smile, but it was so far off the mark of what she knew he was capable of, she burst out laughing. “Oh, surely you can do better than that,” she said.

“Better than what?”

“Better than that smile you’re plastering on your face. Hardly your best and I think most certainly insincere.”

“He doesn’t like to discuss marriage,” Amelia said.

“Do not continue to speak for me nor about me as if I were not standing in front of you,” Lord Hollings said overly pleasantly through gritted teeth. He turned to Sir William. “I apologize for my sister. She is extremely young.”

“Only compared to you,” Amelia said, in pure little sister fashion.

“Your sister was only telling the truth, sir. I don’t think you should get upset with her for that.” Maggie decided that goading Lord Hollings was, indeed, amusing.

Lord Hollings turned to her and for an instant the heat she saw in his eyes was almost frightening. It was so quickly masked that she thought perhaps she’d been mistaken. Then he forced a smile. “I adore talking about marriage,” he said. “Whom do you think I should marry, Miss Pierce? Is she in this room, perhaps? Please be so good and point her out. Put a blindfold on and turn around and find my bride for me. My sister seems to think it is that easy.”

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