His Mistress By Christmas (20 page)

“I don’t know,” he said sharply. “But at the moment I could certainly tear it down with my bare hands. Of course . . .” He gritted his teeth. “Then the two of you would be trapped here.”

“Do calm down, brother dear,” Bianca said. “It’s not as bad as all that.”

“It’s not?” He narrowed his eyes.

Miranda stared at her sister. “It’s not?”

“Goodness no.” Bianca shrugged. “At least not as far as Hadley-Attwater Christmases are concerned.”

“Tell me then.” Sebastian struggled to keep his voice under control. “How the imminent arrival of my very proper family, a family that expects to meet a wife when all I have is a mistress, is not a disaster of unmitigated proportions?”

Bianca shrugged. “It’s certainly not as bad as the year the tree caught on fire and nearly burned down the entire east wing of the abbey. Or the year Father was to give Mother emerald ear bobs and one of the dogs ate one.”

Miranda winced. “I remember that. It was dreadful.”

“We had to follow that dog around for two days before we finally recovered the ear bob,” Sebastian muttered.

“Or the year Great-Aunt Mariah died during dinner and no one noticed until we realized she wasn’t joining us in the parlor.”

Miranda sighed. “She was always nodding off during dinner. Bless her soul.”

“Or the year you and Richard and Adrian and Hugh decided to reenact the twelve days of Christmas as a special surprise for Mother.” Bianca eyed her brother. “Surely you remember that?”

“Perhaps, I might—”

“I remember,” Miranda said. “The four of you decided to collect all the gifts from the song, starting with the things that were easiest to find. Swans and geese, I believe.”

“And hens,” he said under his breath.

“Who would have imagined swans and geese and hens, who had always seemed so well behaved, wouldn’t appreciate being indoors?” Bianca smiled sweetly. “I still recall all of us chasing them from room to room.”

Miranda nodded. “And finding feathers in the oddest places for years. Father was furious.”

“Even so . . .” Sebastian pushed the vivid memory of the dire consequences of that particular Christmas surprise aside. “All of that pales in comparison to this.”

“Great-Aunt Mariah wouldn’t think so,” Miranda murmured.

“You are a clever man, Sebastian.” Bianca studied him for a long moment. “It would seem to me the solution is right under your nose.”

“You’re right.” He blew a resigned breath. “There’s no way out of it. Only one thing to do, of course. I shall have to confess to Veronica that I led you to believe we would be married by now, never imagining she would turn me down.”

“I knew it was his fault,” Miranda said to her sister.

“And then I shall admit to the rest of the family that I am not as respectable as I am trying to appear, as I have a mistress instead of a wife.”

Miranda cast him a sympathetic smile. “Honesty is always best.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Bianca scoffed. “Honesty in a situation like this is to be avoided at all costs.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “What are you thinking?” “First of all, there’s no need to tell Veronica anything at all,” Bianca said firmly.

“Won’t she notice if someone calls her Lady Hadley-Attwater?” Miranda asked.

“No one in the family will use a title.” Bianca said. “We don’t call Sebastian
Sir Sebastian,
and we certainly don’t call Adrian
Lord Waterston.
” She met her brother’s gaze with confidence. “If we all cooperate, keep her away from the others when possible, never allow her be alone with anyone else in the family, oh, and think of lots of things to keep all of us busy, she won’t have any idea everyone thinks you’re married. Nor will the rest of the family suspect you’re not.”

“Bianca!” Miranda gasped. “I can’t believe you would suggest anything so deceitful.”

“Come now, Miranda, of course you can. Besides . . .” She cast her brother an apologetic look. “As one might possibly think, some of the responsibility for this falls on us, so it is up to us to help him.”

Sebastian considered his sister. “You do realize, deceiving one’s family could be considered wrong.”

Bianca shrugged.

“This could well blow up in our faces—”

“Like the bridge.” Miranda nodded.

“—my face, really,” he continued. “No doubt the two of you would feign ignorance—”

“We have always feigned well.” Miranda smiled in an innocent manner.

“—still . . . I . . . well . . .” He nodded slowly. “I like it.” He stared at Bianca. “I had no idea you were so diabolical.”

“Diabolical and brilliant.” Bianca smirked. “But all I am suggesting is that as the family expects to meet a wife, we do everything that we can to make certain they are not disappointed.” She cast him a smug and deeply terrifying grin. “I do so hate to disappoint at Christmas.”

“Well, I think it’s a delightful idea.” Bianca walked beside Veronica on the road back from the village.

“It’s also whimsical and a bit silly, perhaps, but that’s what I like about it.” Veronica smiled and gathered her cloak tighter around her.

Snow covered the ground on either side of the road, and the late morning air was colder than she had expected. She would have preferred to take her carriage to the village, but apparently the Hadley-Attwaters were indeed a sturdy lot with a penchant for long walks.

Mrs. Bigelow had begged off helping Veronica with the gift she had thought of for Sebastian, pleading a house full of unexpected guests. Two scarcely seemed a houseful, but then the housekeeper was not used to having anyone here at all. She’d sent Veronica to her sister in the village for assistance. Veronica wasn’t at all sure how it had happened, but the next thing she knew, Bianca was accompanying her, on foot.

“I think it’s perfect for him,” Bianca said firmly. “A pennant to fly from one of his towers, with that battered old compass embroidered on it. I wish I had thought of it.”

Veronica grinned. Silly or not, it did seem perfect.

The two women continued on in a companionable silence. Veronica had liked her when they had met yesterday evening, and Miranda, too, of course. They had all dined together last night and had had a most cordial time, even if Miranda had appeared subdued and a bit nervous, although that might be her usual nature. Any lull in the conversation was filled by Bianca, who was most charming and didn’t seem to find the presence of Sebastian’s mistress at all awkward. Sebastian, however, had been preoccupied. Odd, but then his sisters’ unexpected company might well account for that.

“He has always fancied himself a knight riding to the rescue of fair ladies, you know.” Bianca slanted a quick look at Veronica. “But he has never shown any inclination to remain in the company of the lady in question.”

Veronica shook her head. “I have no need of rescue.”

“And isn’t that interesting?” Bianca murmured.

“Is it? Why?”

“Because you’re not the type of woman Sebastian has been known to pursue in the past.”

“And what type am I?” Veronica said slowly.

“For one thing, I suspect you are every bit as intelligent as he is. In that respect you are well matched.” Bianca paused for a moment. “You are as independent as he as well.”

Veronica raised a brow. “I gather my independence has been a topic of discussion.”

Sebastian and his sisters had stayed talking until long after Veronica had retired last night, which might be why he had not once knocked on the door that separated his room from hers.

Despite her newfound resolve to avoid seduction, his failure to appear was annoying. At one point, during a long, restless night, she had risen from her bed to turn the key firmly in the lock of the door between their rooms. It was a message, if nothing else.

“Sebastian said that’s why you don’t wish to marry,” Bianca said. “I can well understand your reasoning.”

Veronica nodded. Portia had mentioned Bianca’s estrangement from her husband but hadn’t known much more than that.

Bianca glanced at her. “You know of my situation?”

“Portia is one of my dearest friends,” Veronica said simply. No further explanation was needed.

“Then I daresay you know everything about everyone in the family.” Bianca laughed. “It was inevitable, I suppose, marital difficulties, that is, when one is named after a character from
The Taming of the Shrew,
even if not the shrew herself. Did you know that everyone in the family is named after a Shakespearean character ?”

“Then Sebastian is . . .” Veronica thought for a moment.

“From
Twelfth Night?
”

Bianca nodded. “Now it seems quite charming of Mother, but as a child it was rather odd to be named for a fictional character.” She leaned toward Veronica in a confidential manner. “I suspect it was an excuse to choose names she found more interesting than Mary or Anne or Jane.”

Veronica laughed.

“I am eternally grateful I am not a Juliet.” Bianca shook her head in a mock serious manner. “She did not end well.”

“You think the name would carry a curse along with it?”

“There are certain expectations, I would think, although even Shakespeare himself asked what’s in a name.” Bianca smiled. “Sebastian has never quite felt that he has lived up to expectations.”

Veronica frowned. “Because of his name?”

“No, because of his choices. At least not Father’s expectations. Hadley-Attwaters are expected to make their mark on the world in far more conventional ways than Sebastian has chosen.” She shrugged. “In spite of his considerable success, I fear my youngest brother considers himself a disappointment in the eyes of the rest of the family. Especially when it comes to Adrian and Hugh. We don’t feel that way. At least, I don’t.”

“I see.”

“But Sebastian has changed, in some respects at least. With his new house and his intention to stay in one place. It’s all very responsible. And then there’s you, of course.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” Bianca nodded. “You’re a most respectable match for him, in spite of your outspoken nature or perhaps because of it.” She slanted Veronica an amused glance. “It’s well known, you know.”

“I should hope so. It would be pointless otherwise.” Veronica chuckled. “But you do realize I do not plan to marry him?”

“And why should you? You have no need of his fortune or his fame. You’re the master of your own life. Why, marriage would be like a noose around your neck.”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“Oh, no, I think you’re wise to choose this course. To flaunt propriety and do precisely as you please. I think it’s quite admirable, in spite of the scandalous nature of it all, and most courageous.”

“You do?” Caution edged Veronica’s voice.

“Oh my, yes.” Bianca nodded. “You’re the captain of your own ship, Veronica, sailing the seas of your life. Alone and independent. Making your own decisions. Responsible to no one but yourself. Speaking your mind. Doing as you please. Not trapped with one man for the rest of your days should all not work out as you expect. Facing the world on your own terms with no one to disappoint you or fail you. I am not nearly that brave. Why, it’s almost perfect. I do so envy you.”

“Thank you,” Veronica said weakly.

In spite of Bianca’s admiration, Veronica’s life didn’t sound the least bit perfect. It sounded somewhat selfish and rather lonely. Everything Bianca had said was true enough. But Veronica had never heard it expressed in that manner before. She had never equated independent with alone. As much as she valued independence, did she really want to spend the rest of her life alone?

“Speaking of outspoken opinions,” Bianca began. “Last night we briefly discussed the admission of women to that silly club of Sebastian’s.” Bianca chuckled. “I do so enjoy the look on his face when he debates with you. And I would very much like to meet your aunt. But I was wondering what your thoughts are regarding . . . ”

Bianca kept up a steady stream of chatter for the rest of their walk. Veronica made appropriate responses, but her mind was far from her political opinions or her thoughts on the latest Paris fashions. The arrival of his sisters had cast her position in a different light that bore consideration. A light she wasn’t at all sure she liked.

It was past noon when they arrived back at the hall. From the end of the drive, they could see carriages being unloaded, several adults, and four small, boisterous children. Even from a distance the scene was that of barely controlled chaos.

“It appears you and Miranda are not the only unexpected guests,” Veronica said wryly.

“Now, who could that be?” Bianca peered at the scene, then brightened. “Why, it’s Diana and her family. And from the amount of luggage, I would say they plan on staying for Christmas. How delightful.”

“Delightful,” Veronica said under her breath. So much for peace in the country.

“I do hope you don’t mind. I know you and Sebastian planned to be alone but . . .” She shrugged in a helpless manner. “We haven’t had Sebastian here for Christmas since he began his travels. I fear we are all too excited to have him back to keep our distance. We did bring ornaments, by the way, for a tree. You are going to have a tree, aren’t you?”

“It wouldn’t be Christmas without one.” In truth, in Veronica’s family, the tree had always been more fashionable than festive. Without warning, she found herself looking forward to something a bit more spirited.

“And, well, a house like this fairly begs to be filled at Christmas.”

Veronica studied the imposing redbrick structure and the crowd being herded into the house and smiled. “She does, doesn’t she?”

“You shall like Diana, I think.” Bianca took her arm and led her up the drive. “She’s very much like you in that she never hesitates to speak her mind. Oh, but I should warn you . . .”

“What?”

“In spite of what Portia might have told you about this being a fairly proper family, we are most casual when we are all together, especially at Christmastime. It’s something of a . . .” She thought for a moment. “A tradition, I would say, to call even guests by their given names. Because it’s Christmas, of course. So please do not be offended when you’re not called Lady Smithson.”