His Mistress By Christmas (33 page)

“I did not buy this house with a wife in mind.”

“Obviously! But you did buy it with an eye toward showing your family how much you’ve changed. How responsible and proper you’ve become. How the black sheep was now one of the herd!”

“No!”

She raised a skeptical brow.

“Very well.” He huffed. “I suppose some of that was a factor in buying the house. But it was the right time to do so.”

“Right before your birthday.” She cast him a scathing look.

“Excellent timing.”

He drew his brows together. “Is it so hard to believe that, when one reaches a certain age, one wishes to live one’s life differently?”

“When the one in question is you—yes!” She shook her head. “I trusted you. I thought you were honest and honorable.”

“I am.” He glared at her. “I have never lied to you. I have never misled you.”

“You didn’t tell me about your quest for . . . for
worthiness!
And the part I was to play in it. You didn’t tell me about your inheritance.”

“It slipped my mind,” he said without thinking, then winced. As true as it was, it was not a good answer. “Once I met you, you were all I could think about. All that mattered.”

“You said you would love me more tomorrow than today. That you wanted to die with your hand in mine.”

“And I meant every word.”

“I should have known.” She shook her head. “Your words were entirely too polished.”

“They were from my heart.” Indignation rang in his voice.

“You admitted they were excellent
lines
.”

“Which makes them no less meaningful,” he said firmly.

“Which makes them worthless.” Her eyes narrowed. “How many other women have you said those things to?”

“None,” he said staunchly. “I love you.”

“And have you said that to other women as well?”

“I don’t know.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t recall, but I never meant it before.”

“And now you mean it?”

“Yes! Which is why I want to marry you.”

“So it is nothing more than happy coincidence that you find a woman you wish to marry right before your brothers are to judge whether or not you are worthy to receive your inheritance?”

“Coincidences do happen, you know.”

She scoffed. “Not like this.”

“I love you, Veronica, and you love me.”

“Yet another flaw in my plan!” she snapped, then drew a deep breath. “You say marrying me has nothing to do with proving yourself worthy of your inheritance.”

He nodded. “Which is the absolute truth.”

“Then tell me this.” She studied him carefully. “Did the thought ever cross your mind that a wife would be the final element to prove to your family that you were no longer a disappointment ?”

He hesitated.

“I see.”

“No, you don’t.” He shook his head. “I admit, the thought had occurred to me. But that was before I met you.”

Her eyes widened in outrage. “So anyone would have suited you?”

“No, of course not, you are twisting my words.”

“It seems to me you do a very good job of that on your own.” She turned and started toward the stairs.

“Where are you going?”

She turned back. “I am going to my room, where I intend to throw the few things I cannot live without into a bag. Then I am returning to London. I shall send for the rest of my belongings. If you would be so good as to call for my carriage and tell my family we are leaving at once.”

He stared. “But it’s Christmas.”

“I am well aware of that.”

“But this is our first Christmas.”

“And apparently our last.” She drew a deep breath. “I have been confused since the moment I met you, Sebastian. I haven’t known what to do next. I have made any number of silly decisions and, admittedly, more than one mistake. I haven’t been at all myself. My plans never go awry. And I certainly did not intend to fall in love.” She shook her head. “I was very lucky in my first marriage. Charles accepted me for exactly who I was, independent and outspoken and rather flawed. I never thought I would find that again.”

“But you have. I love your flaws.”

“And you have been trying to be someone you weren’t. Rather proper and following other people’s rules and forging a life that has never been a good fit for you.”

He stepped toward her. “But it is now. A fit, that is. This.” He spread his arms in a wide gesture. “You. A home, a wife, a family. I’ve changed, grown, if you will. I want all this. I want you.”

“No. You want what you think you should have.” She shook her head. “And I want more than to be a means to an end.” She turned and climbed quickly up the stairs.

He stared after her for a long moment. He had assumed his mother had told her about the inheritance. Regardless, he should have told her and told her, as well, the conditions for acquiring it. He should have known what her reaction would be when she found out. What an idiot he was. However unintentionally, he had hurt her. His stomach twisted. He had to do something. He refused to live without her. Footsteps sounded behind him and he turned.

Veronica’s father, aunt, and grandmother stood in the doorway of the dining room.

“We heard it all.” Miss Bramhall sniffed and brushed past him. “And to think I gave you credit for honesty.”

“I am most disappointed, young man.” Lady Bramhall cast him a hard look. “Disappointment that has nothing to do with plum pudding, mind you, although I will remember this.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I know my granddaughter, better than she does herself. She is not one to change her mind. However, she is not a fool. I suggest you give her a few days to consider the situation.”

He stared at her. “Is there hope, then?”

“It’s Christmas, my boy. There is always hope.” She nodded and continued after her daughter.

“She’s right, you know.” Lord Bramhall’s gaze met Sebastian’s. “Veronica is not a fool. But she is a woman in love, and they can be fragile and delicate creatures.”

“Apparently,” Sebastian muttered.

“I have read your books. You are not the sort of man to give up easily, nor are you lacking in courage in the face of adversity.” Lord Bramhall’s voice was firm. “I hope, for the sake of my daughter’s happiness, in all the ways that you claim to have changed, that has not.”

“I shall do my best.”

“Humph.” Lord Bramhall cast him a doubtful look, then proceeded after the rest of his family.

At least Sebastian had two allies in Veronica’s family. Now, to face his own. He turned and stepped back into the dining room.

Silence greeted him, along with nine pairs of eyes, accusing or sympathetic, depending on their owner.

“Well?” He crossed his arms over his chest and braced himself. “Go on. Say it.”

They all decided to do so in unison.

“What were you thinking?”

“Why didn’t you tell her about the inheritance?”

“How could you?”

“You’re not married?”

“Obviously, I wasn’t thinking,” he said to Miranda, then turned to Bianca. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell her. It didn’t seem important, and then the longer I didn’t mention it, the harder it was to say anything.” He looked at Diana. “How could I? I don’t know. I’m not entirely sure what I did.”

Diana snorted.

He ignored her and addressed his mother. “And yes, Mother, we are not now married. I wanted marriage. She did not. I had finally convinced her. Now she thinks it’s only because of that blasted inheritance.”

“My God, you are an idiot.” Hugh stared.

“We need to talk, Sebastian,” Adrian added.

“Then you shall have to convince her otherwise.” A firm note sounded in his mother’s voice.

“You’re not shocked.” He stared at his mother. “That we aren’t married?”

“I did wonder why she wasn’t wearing a ring,” Evelyn murmured.

“I am stunned beyond words. Nonetheless . . .” His mother pinned him with a hard look. “You love that woman and she loves you.”

“Shouldn’t you go after her?” James said.

“Not today. Besides . . .” He blew a resigned breath. “She isn’t entirely wrong, and I need to come up with a way to make this right. Until then . . .” He narrowed his eyes, his gaze shifting from one member of his family to another. “I would appreciate no further discussion of this for now, as difficult as that may be. I know each and every one of you has advice or a possible solution. I don’t want to hear it, not today. Consider it a gift. It is still Christmas, after all, and I believe there are presents to open.”

Adrian studied him thoughtfully. “As you wish.”

A few minutes later a much more subdued group gathered around the Christmas tree. Still, with the addition of the children, and the opening of a few gifts, spirits were at least partially restored. For that Sebastian was grateful. He would hate to have ruined Christmas for everyone. Although there was no longer any satisfaction in knowing he was right about one more thing.

This was indeed a Christmas to remember.

“Are you going to open that, or are you going to stare at it until next Christmas?” Annoyance rang in Grandmother’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” Veronica glanced up and frowned at the older ladies. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” Grandmother and Aunt Lotte swept into Veronica’s parlor like missionaries determined to save lost souls. Veronica braced herself. She was in no mood for either advice or persuasion.

“You look quite pathetic, my dear.” Grandmother settled on the sofa beside her. “Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red.”

Veronica narrowed her eyes. “You do realize you are much more charming when you are pretending to be
special
.”

Lotte choked back a laugh and sat down on Veronica’s other side.

“Even I cannot be special all the time.” Grandmother gestured in a blithe manner. “The question isn’t, ‘Why are we here,’ but, ‘What are you doing?’ Or not doing, as the case may be.”

“You scarcely said a word all the way back to London yesterday.” Sympathy sounded in Lotte’s voice. “We are quite concerned.”

“There didn’t seem to be a great deal to say.”

Although there did seem to be a great deal to weep about. And weep she had, periodically through the night, with anger and pain and loss—which was most distressing as she was not the type of woman to weep profusely, if at all. Still, by morning she had begun to wonder if perhaps she hadn’t been a little hasty in judging Sebastian. Now, a full day after they’d left Greyville Hall, she wasn’t at all sure her actions were right or justified or completely mad. If she did indeed trust him, did this error in judgment on his part negate that? Was she throwing away something remarkable that she never thought she’d find again because of a foolish mistake on his part? She’d never thought he was perfect. Why was she expecting him to be perfect now? Veronica had always prided herself on being reasonable and rational. Qualities that had apparently deserted her. She didn’t know if she should blame that on the season or the man. Probably a bit of both. She did so hate feeling like a fool.

Her gaze strayed back to the package on the tea table she’d positioned in front of the sofa. Placed there precisely for the purpose of staring at the small, velvet-wrapped gift. She’d done so all day and grappled with questions she didn’t know how to answer. That was not the least bit rational, either. “And there’s no need for concern.”

“What is that?” Lotte nodded at the package.

“Obviously, it’s a gift from Sebastian, dear,” Grandmother said in a sage manner.

Veronica cast her a sharp glance. “Why would you think that?”

“Goodness, Veronica.” Grandmother heaved a long-suffering sigh. “We left before anyone else exchanged presents, and you haven’t opened it. Therefore it’s obvious that it’s from Sebastian.” She raised a brow. “You took it with you?”

“It was intended for me.” Veronica shrugged.

“Good for you.” Lotte patted her arm. “As well you should.”

“I went into his room to leave his gift, as I had no need for it, and saw where he had left this. . . .” On the table by the side of his bed, right after . . . “It was intended for me,” she said again.

“And you were right to take it.” Lotte nodded firmly. “Why, it’s the very least you deserve. After all, that man lied to you.”

“He never lied to me,” Veronica said sharply.

“Misled you then.”

“I wouldn’t say . . .” She shook her head. “He didn’t mislead me.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Grandmother said. “He simply failed to tell you something he should have, even if he didn’t think it significant.”

“He was trying to lure her into marriage so that he might inherit a fortune.” Lotte sniffed.

“Perhaps. Although given the way he looked at her, I suspect he was trying to lure her into marriage because he loves her.” Grandmother shrugged. “Although I could be wrong.”

“Men are not to be trusted,” Lotte said firmly.

“Absolutely not.” Grandmother nodded.

“I did trust him,” Veronica said, staring at the gift. “The more I was around him, the more I trusted him. The more I liked him. The more I thought . . . He is a good man,” she added under her breath.

“Ha,” Lotte scoffed.

“Good men are not easy to find.” An overly casual note sounded in Grandmother’s voice. “It does seem a shame to discard one.”

“Good?” Lotte stared at her mother. “Even ignoring his failure to tell her his true reasons for wanting marriage, he let his family believe they were married. He might not have lied to her, but he certainly did to everyone else.”

“That’s as much my fault as it is his,” Veronica said quickly. It was only fair to acknowledge her part in all this. “I can scarcely blame the man for wanting his family to think well of him.”

Lotte rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “To gain a fortune.”

“No, it’s not that.” Veronica shook her head. “In spite of his success, Sebastian has always felt that he was a disappointment to his family. He simply wants to be . . . part of them.”

“Even so,” Lotte began.

Veronica drew her brows together. “You said he was rare and should be snapped up at once.”

“That was when I thought he was rare, not like every other man.” Lotte glared. “That was before he broke your heart!”