A Christmas Affair (12 page)

“In fact, Colonel,” she said, batting her eyelashes and simpering like a schoolgirl, “I have received just such an offer.
But naturally I told Mr. Harper we must wait at least a year until we are out of mourning for Daniel.”

“Who the devil is Mr. Harper?” Justin demanded, his fists clenching in anger. “Is he here?”

“He was earlier, but I believe he has left,” she answered with another cloying smile. “Business, you know.”

“What kind of business?” His tone was frankly suspicious.

“Why, wine, of course,” Amanda replied serenely. “He owns one of the largest wine cellars in Surrey, and sells to the best inns in England. He is quite rich, and even though he is almost eighty, I am sure he will make a most admirable husband. He —”

“Eighty!”

“Well” — Amanda wondered if she was overplaying her hand — “perhaps not quite so ancient as all that. It is just he is so dissipated it is rather difficult to tell. He has too much of a fondness for his merchandise, I fear.” She sighed heavily, and then brightened as if a sudden thought had occurred to her. “But he has assured me he isn’t terribly violent when in his cups, and—”

“And do you mean to tell me you would consider this animal’s suit?” Justin interrupted, having heard more than enough. “My God, what of the others? Surely you wouldn’t expose Amelia or Belinda to his drunken rages!”

“Oh, but he wouldn’t harm them.” Amanda was beginning to regret ever having initiated this ridiculous conversation but having come this far, she could see no way to withdraw without admitting to her own duplicity. “I daresay I am painting a blacker picture than the poor man deserves! Really, he is a very pleasant man.” She managed a sickly smile.

Justin saw her smile, and his own mood darkened. It was obvious Amanda had settled on her repulsive bridegroom as the only way of providing for her family, but he was damned if he would let her make such a sacrifice. Biting
back an angry oath, he turned and stormed from the room.

“Will that be all, Colonel?” Williams asked, surveying his employer’s grim countenance with concern. “Some brandy, perhaps?”

Justin stirred himself, raising his eyes from his brooding study of the fire long enough to cast his valet a dismissing smile. “No, Williams, thank you,” he said, returning his gaze to the flames. “You may go now.”

Williams hesitated, unwilling to leave his master when he was obviously so bedeviled, but equally unwilling to disobey him. He had been in a black mood since returning from the church earlier that afternoon, and it seemed he meant to spend his evening the same way. Ah well, the valet decided with a troubled sigh, let the lad wrestle with his demons; doubtlessly he would eventually work things out.

After the valet had gone, Justin rose to pace impatiently about the room. Blast it all, what the devil was he going to do, he brooded, rubbing the back of his neck with a weary hand. He couldn’t allow Amanda to sell herself to some decrepit merchant, and yet how could he stop her? He wasn’t her guardian, as she had been at such pains to remind him, and by law she could marry whomever she bloody well pleased.

He had to give the devil her due, he acknowledged with a bitter smile. She’d chosen the one defense he couldn’t overcome. Once married, she and the others would fall under her husband’s protection, and there was nothing he could do about it. Unless he was to marry her himself, he —

Justin’s hand dropped to his side as the realization struck him. Marriage, he thought, allowing the notion to settle in his brain. Of course, why hadn’t he thought of that before? Marriage was the perfect solution to all their problems! Not only would it grant him the right to provide for Lawrence’s
family, but it would also give Amanda the security she seemed to crave. And at least with him, she needn’t fear his drunken rages.

He had to marry sometime, he told himself, and it might as well be to Amanda as to anyone else. For all her hoydenish ways, she was still a lady, and a rather attractive lady at that, now that he thought of it. She was difficult, demanding, and much too independent for his tastes, but he knew instinctively he could rely on her to keep his honor.

Yes, he decided, a slow smile lighting his eyes. He
would
offer for the hellcat. Now all that remained was convincing her to accept him. Something told him it would not be an easy task.

Chapter Seven

Over the next few days Justin quietly began setting his plans in motion. He first wrote his brother’s solicitor, requesting information on a small property he had inherited from a distant relation. The property included a lovely country house as well as a comfortable living, and he decided it was just the thing to keep his soon-to-be-acquired family in style.

He next wrote his commanding officer, informing him of his coming marriage and dropping a subtle hint that he would soon be available to resume command of his unit. Information from the continent was sketchy, but Justin knew instinctively that Napoleon, while reeling from his defeat at Leipzig, was still a very real threat to England. He had always put his duties as a commander above all else, and he saw no reason why this should change merely because he was about to take a bride.

Upon reflection he also wrote Edward, although he doubted his elder brother would bother attending whatever ceremony he and Amanda decided upon. Although the two of them were close, he frankly found Edward’s racketing ways to be vexing. The fool had apparently squandered most of his inheritance on high living and imprudent investments, and was already asking him for “pocket money,” as he called it.

Thoughts of his brother were very much on Justin’s mind on Sunday as he and the Lawrences spent a quiet afternoon at home. The three girls were sitting before the fire, their heads bent over their sewing while the twins and Stephen were involved in a noisy game of jack straws. Glancing around the shabby parlor, he couldn’t help but compare this scene to the cold, sterile memories of his own boyhood. Despite the luxury he had known then, he had never felt the warmth and sense of belonging he experienced now. Amanda was right, he decided, wincing as he stretched his feet toward the fire. They were a family, and it was best for all that they remain that way.

“Are you all right, sir?” Amelia asked unexpectedly, her blue eyes troubled as she studied him. “I noted you seem uncomfortable; is your leg paining you?”

“It is a bit stiff, Miss Amelia, that is all,” he replied, grateful for her concern. The girl was an angel, quite unlike her elder sister, he mused, flicking his eyes toward Amanda. As if aware of his scrutiny, she raised her head from her sewing, her dark brown eyes cool as she returned his gaze.

“Are you quite certain, Colonel? We can send for the doctor if you are in any pain,” she offered, proud of the lack of heat in her voice. Since their last encounter following Daniel’s funeral, she had been at pains to avoid any further confrontations. Of course, the fact that Justin had kept mostly to his rooms during the past few days probably had something to do with the fragile peace, she admitted with a flash of wry humor.

Justin noted the mischievous gleam in her eyes, but prudently decided to ignore it. Like Amanda, he was hopeful of maintaining familial harmony, at least until he had his ring on her finger. Once they were man and wife,
however, he would lay down the law in no uncertain terms.

“That is unnecessary, Miss Lawrence, thank you,” he murmured, favoring her with a warm smile. “As I told Miss Amelia, ’tis naught but a touch of stiffness. One of the hazards of advancing age, I dare say,” he added with a self-deprecatory shrug.

“You aren’t old,” Stephen protested with an indignant frown. Like the twins, he worshipped Justin, endowing him with all the heroic virtues, and it was obvious he would countenance no slur on his idol.

Justin was aware of the lad’s adoration, and while he was touched by it, he didn’t allow it to go to his head. He more than anyone knew just how fallible he really was, and he never forgot that fact. “Trust me, Stephen,” he said, his expression rueful as he leaned forward in his chair, “there are times when I feel as ancient as Methuselah’s grandsire. And I fear today is just such a day. This cold is making my leg stiff as wood.”

“The squire’s cousin has a wooden leg,” Jeremey volunteered, his bright blue eyes glowing with excitement. “If you give him a drink, hell even take it off and show it to you!”

“Jeremey!” Amanda was appalled by her brother’s ghoulish comment. “What a terrible thing to say!”

“Well, he will,” Jeremey countered her protest with a defiant toss of his head. “And you needn’t glare at me neither, ’cause Mr. Nesmith said he showed it to
you
when you was a gel!”

Everyone burst into laughter, and after a few moments she ruefully joined in. “Hoisted by my own petard, you little imp” she said, reaching out to ruffle his blond hair. “But I still don’t feel the conversation at all suitable, and I
will thank you, sir, to mind your tongue. Next you will be telling us all about Lord Ethelmeyer’s eyepatch, or some equally ghastly thing.”

“No use talking about that,” Joss offered with an unhappy sigh. “He charges a pence just to raise his patch a bit.”

The arrival of Linsley announcing dinner proved a welcome diversion, and Amanda gratefully led the others into the dining room. While they devoured the excellent beef Mrs. Hatcher had prepared, Justin began plotting the best way to present his suit to Amanda.

The romantic approach would never do, he decided as he listened half-attentively to the conversation about him. Not only did he refuse to make a cake out of himself by even hinting he had fallen in love with her, but he strongly suspected she would laugh in his face were he to attempt such a thing. No, the best approach was to be as straight-forward as possible, reminding her of all the advantages marriage to him could bring her. Given the present state of her pocketbook, he did not doubt but that she would accept. Amanda might be a proud and stubborn minx, but she was no fool. With any luck they could be married by special license by the new year, and he could then rejoin his regiment, secure in the knowledge that he had done his duty. Bolstered by this thought, he turned his attention to his food, his eyes gleaming with the smug sense of satisfaction from a job well done.

Amanda devoted the remainder of the afternoon preparing the house for the coming holiday. With the children’s assistance, they spent several hours stringing the parlor with greenery, and the old house soon took on a
festive aspect. Candles scented with bayberry flickered on the dining table while small bunches of holly decorated every available surface. The boys had discovered some mistletoe growing in the crook of an old elm, and they hung it above doorway with much good-natured giggling.

Amelia and Belinda had made it their special task to see to the holiday baking, and the smell of sugar and spices blended with the pine, creating the unforgettable fragrance that was Christmas. After a hurried family conference, it was decided they give Justin the presents they had originally made for Daniel, knowing it was what he would have wanted.

Amanda also decided to make him something special and after some thought decided upon a new pair of gloves. As she didn’t know his glove size, she asked his valet to smuggle her out a pair for sizing, and she was carefully tracing out the pattern when the footman appeared to say the colonel was in the parlor and asking to see her.

She paused long enough to hide the glove from prying eyes, and then hurried to the parlor. As she was still in the same black dress she had worn at luncheon, she was surprised to see that Justin had changed and was looking somewhat formal in a well-cut jacket of topaz velvet, his cravat tied in intricate folds and his muscular legs enclosed in a pair of cream kerseymere trousers. She barely had time to take in his altered appearance before he turned around to face her. Their eyes met, and for the briefest moment she thought he looked anxious. Then the expression was gone, and he was moving forward to greet her with his usual air of cool control.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, Miss Lawrence . . . Amanda,” he corrected, guiding her to one of the worn
chairs set before the fireplace. “I hope you do not object to my using your Christian name?” he added with a polite smile, settling himself onto the chair facing hers. “I would not wish to give offense.”

“Not at all, sir.” Amanda wasn’t taken in by either the smile or the smooth apology. She knew the colonel well enough to know he wasn’t asking her permission to use the informal mode of address. Rather, he was announcing his intention of doing so.

“You are most kind.” Justin inclined his head, pleased that things were going so nicely. “And I would that you would also call me by my given name. It is Justin,” he provided, thinking that with a bit of luck and a modicum of charm he just might succeed in pulling this thing off after all.

“Justin.” Amanda imitated the regal tilt of his head. “And now, Justin, perhaps you might be so good as to tell me why you have asked to see me? The footman made it sound rather important. You’re not leaving, are you?” she added as the possibility suddenly occurred to her. “The children will be so disappointed.”

“No, no,” he assured her, grateful she had mentioned her younger siblings. Her devotion to them was his trump card, and he was anxious to play it as quickly as possible. This proposing business was decidedly hard on a fellow’s nerves.

“However,” he continued, resisting the urge to clear his throat, “I am glad that you mentioned them as what I have to tell you directly concerns them. And their future.”

Amanda’s eyebrows arched in interest. “Really?” she asked coolly, wondering what new maggot had crawled into his brain. “How so?”

“Well —” this time he could not help himself and ner
vously cleared his throat—“the day of Daniel’s funeral you indicated that you were seriously considering a marriage of convenience. Might I ask if that is still the case?”

Amanda squirmed uncomfortably in her chair, realizing he had just provided her with the perfect excuse for wiggling out of her outrageous lie. She could say she’d had a change of heart and that she’d decided she and Mr. Harper would not suit. Or she could say that he had withdrawn his offer and was even now making overtures to a titled but impoverished countess. But in the end she knew she would have to tell him the truth, and she lifted her chin to meet his steady gaze.