His Christmas Angel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 8) (7 page)

Even if he wasn’t madly deeply in love with Ann, there was no way in hell, he would let her go back to living under that bloody bastard’s roof.

No…Ann was stuck with him—for better or for worse.  

*****

Ann now sat in the Library, attempting to read a book of poetry, but she couldn’t seem to focus long enough to take anything in. Clarence had gone out riding, and when he returned, they would dress and await the vicar. Her nerves were so frayed, she dropped her book when a footman opened the door, and announced the Dowager Duchess of Alton, and Lady Christopher, Colonel Elliot’s stepmother.

She quickly stood up, and curtsied, while her heart raced faster than the ponies did at the Royal Ascot. Locking gazes with Clarence’s imposing grandmother, she felt a bit faint. The woman was Italian, and known throughout the ton as being one formidable lady that one didn’t want to cross—and those who did, rued it bitterly. She didn’t have to worry about Lady Christopher. Lady Christopher blended in with her surroundings pretty nicely, and was so sweet that she never said a cross word to anyone. She had become the Dowager Duchess’s companion, and usually could be found at her side whenever she went out and about.

The Dowager Duchess wore her widow weeds, and she was draped in sparkling black onyx. Lady Christopher also wore black, but didn’t sparkle quite as much.

“Well, Lady Ann, I see you haven’t changed much since last we saw each other. You look none the worse for wear, despite what your father has put you through. And…I suppose you are still intent upon marrying my Clarence?”

She swallowed thickly, and wordlessly, she nodded her head. Fear clutched at her being. She couldn’t think of how she was to receive her. Nothing could prepare her for this meeting. Oh, how she wished that Clarence had stayed home. Maybe she should have accompanied him after all. She imagined he was having a far better time than she was presently.

“Hmm…well, in that case, I suppose the two of us should exchange a few more pleasantries, and then get down to business, as most know I am not a woman to mince words.”

To what did the Dowager Duchess refer? If she thought she was nervous before, it couldn’t possibly compete with how she felt now. She had always been slightly intimidated by the Dowager Duchess.

Francesca Deville was a woman she could only hope to someday be like. No one gave her any grief, and everyone ran to do whatever she bid. Ann felt as if she was quaking in her slippers. She must look an absolute wreck.

“You look quite lovely, Lady Ann, but I hope that isn’t the frock you intend to be wed in?”

“No,” she stammered nervously.

“Good. Clarence deserves a lovely bride, and right now, in that drab little frock, you don’t exactly pass muster.”

Ann’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. Oh, God, how long would she have to endure this?

“I am sorry,” she said, avoiding Francesca’s gaze.

“Well, you shan’t be hard to deal with,” she sighed mournfully, as if Ann’s ability to submit was a bad thing. “You have no spunk. You have no fire. There isn’t anything corky about you. Your backbone has no pluck to it. You are rather soft. You bend far too easily, and I can’t say I like that sort. I could probably tell you to depart Evesham House and never come back, and you would do it,” Francesca mused thoughtfully.

“No, I wouldn’t,” she whispered, a little more forcefully than she had intended, even though her voice wobbled like a boy’s voice did as he grew into a man.

“Eh? What was that you said?” Francesca asked, cupping her hand to her ear.

“I said…no, I wouldn’t, Your Grace,” wincing, as her voice continued to tremble.

Francesca eyed her with a bit of a sparkle dancing in her dark eyes. “Unless my ears betrayed me, it sounded suspiciously as if you just said no. Did you have to summon all of your courage to give me that weak rebuttal, my dear?”

“Yes,” she said, without thinking.

“I thought as much,” she sighed heavily. “You need to get a bit more pluck to your backbone, lass. If you don’t, it won’t be much fun for me, will it? Marietta, now, she knows how to give me a bit of sport. She is a bit of a challenge. She is only slightly afraid of me—you—well, you are near to shaking, and I can’t give you a hard time, if I think you are scared to death. Even I am not that heartless. I do not prey upon the weak. However…if you were strong enough to disobey your father, and turn your back on all you knew—there might be hope for you yet.

“I…I sympathize with your plight, Lady Ann. I married for love, you see. I probably disappointed my parents, although, they never cared one way or the other who I married—I can say to that end, they were good and loving parents. While other parents were marrying their children off, mine were not. They told me to follow my heart, and I did. Now, as for you…you and Clarence are already being gossiped about, and I wouldn’t put it past your father to try to make a fuss today. But once you are a Deville, he shall have me to contend with, and he shan’t like that one bit, that I can guarantee.”

“I…I…thank you, Your Grace,” Ann murmured.

Francesca sighed, and settled herself down, and Lady Christopher came and sat beside Ann on the sofa. Holding her cane between her two gloved hands, Francesca continued to peruse Ann, to such an extent that Ann felt quite unsettled.

“I do not understand why my son was so worried about your age difference. Now that I have had time to study you, in the proper light—you do not look any older than Clarence. You will suit him in that regard. He is a dandy—verging on being a fop, much like my Valentine, but he is a tough little dandy—do not forget that. No matter how kind, or how sensitive you think he is—he has steel running through his blood. However, he can be quite vain. You are fair enough, I suppose, but nowhere near as pretty as Clarence. Oh, no indeed, you do pale in comparison. That should make your marriage a happy one, as Clarence does so like to be the center of attention, and hopefully, you shall have no issue giving him the children he desires.”

Now, Ann felt her face becoming quite hot.

“Do not be embarrassed, it is something that must be discussed from time to time,” Francesca soothed, “And it shall be your lot in life as his new Countess. All eyes will be on you until you give him his heir. I could do with a bit of sherry, if that would be possible.”

Ann dutifully stood up, and dashed over to the footman who waited near the still open Library door. He nodded his head after she gave him instructions to fetch some sherry, and rushed off to find the butler.

“Now, then, I see I cannot scare you away from marrying Clarence, but I can frighten you, is that right, Lady Ann?” Francesca asked. Ann meekly nodded her head. “Have you had a visit from Marietta yet?”

“Clarence’s mother has stayed away. She did send me a trunk filled with clothing, and some jewels for me to wear.” She kept quiet about the parure that Clarence had given her. Somehow, she felt as if they should be kept between her and Clarence, until of course, she decided to debut them.

“She is the soul of generosity, she always has been,” Francesca said, nodding her head happily. “I had thought she would have already come here to see if you were up to snuff.” 

“I suppose she didn’t see it necessary.”

“She probably thought it was a losing battle. Clarence is lost when it comes to you. His heart cannot be moved away from you. The poor boy loves you the way my husband loved me. Archibald was such a dear man, and such a good and devoted husband and father. I am quite certain Marietta and Valentine realize that no matter what they think of you, there is no way they can rid themselves of you.”

“I…” Ann didn’t know what to say in rebuttal. She knew the Deville Family thought poorly of her for using Clarence to get herself out of a marriage to Sir Wilfrid, and there was absolutely nothing she could say to defend her actions. She was despicable. She was using Clarence to maintain her freedom from a man she knew she could never abide. “I…I am unworthy of Clarence,” she confessed.

“On that, we can both agree,” Francesca said.

“And…I will be forever indebted to him—I shall be indebted to him for the rest of our lives. I shall worship the ground he walks on, Your Grace.”

“I wager he would rather have your love, dear. At least you know what you are gaining, I suppose that is a start. However, I do not like the fact that you do not return Clarence’s love. He is a lovesick, completely besotted fool. If I didn’t know better I would think that you were a witch capable of putting a spell on him—but I do know better. I do know that you are nothing of the kind, and that for whatever reason—it is quite a mystery to me—Clarence loves you with all of his heart. Come what may, you had better honour that love—if you do not…I shall make your life a living hell. Are we clear?”

“Aye,” she whispered, in a small voice.

She heard Clarence as he strode toward the Library, he was saying something she couldn’t quite catch all of. By the sounds of it, he walked with Tiny and Lucky, and she could have sworn she heard him saying something along the line of, bloody bastard. What happened while they had been out riding? Had they a run in with her father?

“Good,” Francesca said, as Clarence, Tiny and Lucky came into the room, with the butler carrying the sherry not too far behind them.

“Grandmamma, how good it is to see you,” Clarence said, giving Ann a questioning look before walking over to his grandmother’s side to bestow a kiss on her powdery cheek. “Lady Christopher,” he said solemnly, as he straightened up from bending to kiss Francesca.

Lady Christopher meekly nodded her head at Clarence. Ann wondered how Lady Christopher got along with the Dowager Duchess. She supposed that Lady Christopher and Francesca were great companions because Lady Christopher allowed the Dowager Duchess to have center stage all of the time.

“That’s a good boy, you’re such a dear. I would give you a guinea, but I heard you don’t need them anymore.”

“I would never turn away a guinea from you, Grandmamma,” he said softly.

“You are such a darling boy, so much like your papa. Ann and I were reflecting upon what a sweetheart you are. We both agree that you are one of the best men on Earth, didn’t we, dearest Ann?”

“Aye, that we did,” Ann said softly.

“You have made your family proud, Clarence. My own father would have been quite proud of you, as you were so enterprising to have gone into that venture with dear Edward. My own Papa loved making money—it was his favourite pastime, and he did have a gift for it.” She smiled dotingly at Clarence, and Ann, couldn’t help but smile herself. She liked the way Clarence’s family was so loving with each other—and she craved that kind of a family—once she married Clarence, maybe she would have it. “I should think the two of you ought to go and get ready for your wedding. As you see, I am quite ready, as is Lady Christopher—but you look a little dusty from riding, Clarence, and Ann, dear, you don’t exactly look like a blushing bride in that plain little frock.”

“Yes, Grandmamma, as ever, you are quite right,” he said.

“Ann, shall we?” he asked, holding his hand out for her.

She looked over at Francesca, who was eying them both in her sharp manner, and she didn’t look as if she approved.

“I suppose we should,” she said, getting up.

“Someone tell Cooper to come and sit with us. I left her out in the hall sitting on one of your lovely little hall chairs, Clarence. If all of you are going off to bathe and dress for the wedding, she might as well be in here with us.”

“Aye, Grandmamma.”

Tiny and Lucky had sagely kept their mouths shut. They bowed to the Dowager Duchess and then followed Ann and Clarence out of the Library.

“She doesn’t approve of me,” Ann said, sighing forlornly, once they had reached their bedchambers.

*****

Clarence smiled at her. “Grandmamma, doesn’t approve of anyone until they have proven they should have her affection. She only took a fancy to Gideon because he reminded her of my grandfather. She still hasn’t gotten over my father marrying my mother—so do not worry, it isn’t as if she is favouring you with her dislike.”

“And yet—you don’t doubt your decision to marry me?” she asked softly.

“I do not,” he said forcefully. “How could I? You have my heart, Ann.” He wanted to wipe away that look of distress on her face. He wanted to kiss her until she couldn’t think of anyone else, lest of all his grandmother. He knew what his grandmother had done. She had put the fear of God into Ann, telling her what she would do to her, should Ann prove to be a poor wife to him. “No matter what anyone else thinks, I believe in you, Ann. I have always known that you would one day fall in love with me. I just have to work a little harder at making you fall.”

She smiled at him. “I think I might already be on that descent, my lord,” she mused, raising her hand to press it against his cheek. He reached for her hand, and looked at it. She didn’t wear gloves, and he turned her hand over. He raised it to his lips, and kissed it.

“I must…I must call for Hopkins, and have her assist me so I can be dressed on time. If the vicar arrives, and we are not ready…”

“I…” he sighed. “You are right. We mustn’t tarry. You call for your maid, and I will go and call for my valet, and then, before we know it, we shall be husband and wife.”

She smiled. “I look forward to that moment in time…” she turned to open her bedchamber door, and then, paused, and turned back to regard him. His stomach muscles clenched, as he took in her worried visage. She was chewing furiously on her lower lip.