Marry Christmas (Zebra Historical Romance) (7 page)

“Do you understand me?” he repeated, this time grasping her arm.

“I understand completely. I am to be a broodmare for you and then you will cast me free. I cannot wait,” she said fiercely.

God above but she could make him angry! He’d never in his life met a woman who disliked him as much as this one did. And the joke was that she was the one woman he’d be saddled with the rest of his life. He wondered briefly as he followed her up the stairs, her back stiff with anger, if his big brother was looking down upon him and laughing.

Elizabeth walked into the stifling ballroom, her eyes straight ahead, for she knew if she met a single person she knew, if one person smiled at her, she would break down into copious tears. “Make my life a living hell,” she muttered to herself when she found herself alone in the entryway. “Pah.”

She chewed on her thumbnail for a moment before realizing what she was doing, then brought her hand down, her mother’s voice in her head: “Stop chewing your thumb, Elizabeth, it makes you look like a scullery maid.”

She wanted to be a scullery maid. She wanted to be anyone but Elizabeth Cummings, heiress to one of the greatest fortunes in America. She wished a hundred times, a thousand, but God never answered her prayers.

“Elizabeth?” Maggie walked hesitantly toward her. “Are you all right? I thought I would faint when I saw the duke staring at the tree. What happened?”

Elizabeth shook her head, fighting the urge to bring her thumbnail up for a good gnaw. “I don’t know what I shall do. I don’t know,” she said finally, her voice breaking.

“Come with me,” Maggie said, her face set. She grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and dragged her to a small powder room off the grand entry.

“Did you know those great palaces in Europe hardly have any toilets?” Elizabeth asked dully. “The ladies actually have their maids stay in line for them. And here we are, at a very large ball, and find our own private privy. I think I shall miss that.”

“Oh, Elizabeth,” Maggie said, her face crumpling. “I cannot stand to see you so sad.”

Elizabeth let out a watery laugh. “You are the one who is crying.”

“I’m sorry. Truly I am,” Maggie said. “Please tell me what happened.”

Elizabeth looked at her reflection in the small mirror above the sink, shocked that she saw what she always saw. She’d somehow thought the past few minutes would have marred her in some way. Instead, she saw herself, looking far more confident than she felt inside. “I think you probably know what happened,” Elizabeth said, turning away from her reflection. “Henry loves me. And the duke, he still wants to marry me.”

“Was he very angry?”

A small furrow appeared between her eyes. “Yes, he was. Very angry.”

Maggie smiled. “Perhaps he is jealous.”

“I hardly think so. He was more concerned that I would make him look foolish. I suppose it is natural for a duke to worry about appearances. But the things he said…I do believe he has no heart, no understanding at all what it is like to be in love.”

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently he won’t mind if, after I have given him an heir, I seek Henry out and continue on as if nothing happened.” Maggie gasped. “He explained it all as if it were nothing, as if he were explaining how it is that one breeds horses. Or dogs. As if there is no emotion, no attachment whatsoever. As if the very thought that we could have anything like a normal marriage is completely absurd. No, not absurd, but inconsequential. Not worth even thinking about.”

“Oh,” Maggie said, plopping herself down at the small chair set by a vanity. “How very unromantic.”

“I think that is how all these peers think. It’s horrid.”

“He actually told you this?” Poor Maggie, all her romantic visions of dukes and earls were crumbling to dust at her feet.

“Let me try to recall his actual words.” Elizabeth put on her best, haughty duke appearance. “‘When we are married and you give me an heir, you may see whomever you like.’ Isn’t that rather fiendishly cold?”

Maggie nodded, her eyes wide with horror.

“And he claimed it was impossible for me to love Henry or anyone else for that matter, for how could I possibly fall in love with someone I haven’t spent more than ten minutes with at a time.”

Maggie smiled sheepishly at that. “He actually may have a point there.”

“Maggie! Of all people you should believe in love at first sight. Do not tell me you don’t believe Henry and I are in love.”

“Well…I believe it may be more of an infatuation than true love. How much time have you really spent with him?”

Elizabeth set her jaw stubbornly. “It doesn’t matter the length of time but rather the quality of the experience.”

“I’d say no more than two hours. Altogether.”

Elizabeth was about to argue, until she realized that Maggie was in all likelihood correct. They had danced together. Gone to refreshment. Her mother had allowed them to ride bicycles together. Once. And that had lasted at least an hour. And then there were the letters.

One could learn a lot about a person through letters.

Henry was a wonderful author, she thought, smiling.

“They were two wonderful hours,” Elizabeth said wistfully. “But you must also count the times we’ve sat next to each other at a concert, or the balls we’ve attended.

We may not have been spending every moment of those together, but we were aware of the other every minute.

And, besides, what do you know of love?”

“Don’t get cross with me,” Maggie said, smiling.

“I’m simply trying to be the voice of reason.”

“I hear enough voice of reason, thank you very much.

My mother is that voice, and my father. Susan was. And the duke will probably try to be that voice. I don’t need any more reasonableness and certainly not from you.”

The girls looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Oh, Maggie, please, please stand by me,” Elizabeth said, grasping her friend’s hands.

“You know I shall always be your champion,” Maggie said with feeling.

“What did the earl say about this all?” Elizabeth asked, overcome with curiosity.

“Only that the duke was likely going to strangle you and I should stand by at the ready should I hear a scream.”

“Did he really?”

“Yes. He’s quite funny and I knew he didn’t mean it.

Not entirely, anyway. I suspect he knew the duke was angry. He is a loyal friend.”

“I’m sure he didn’t spare too many kind words for me,” Elizabeth said dryly.

“Not many,” Maggie said honestly. “I do wonder what type of man inspires that sort of loyalty.”

Elizabeth let out a groan. “Blind loyalty,” she scoffed. “It is clear to me the earl does not know the duke’s character.”

“I don’t see how that is possible for they have been friends since school.”

Elizabeth gave her friend a level look. “Do not tell me you are allowing the earl to sway you toward liking the duke.”

“I do like the duke,” Maggie said. At Elizabeth’s look of betrayal, Maggie rushed to explain. “Under any other circumstance, you would have to admit he is rather charming as well as handsome. I think he is in a difficult situation himself.”

“He has swayed you. You are firmly in the enemy camp.”

Maggie laughed. “Don’t be silly. I just want you to be happy.”

“Then you want me with Henry,” Elizabeth said firmly. Her eyes widened as she studied her friend. “You do, don’t you?”

Maggie began fidgeting with her handkerchief. “I truly don’t know if he’s the man for you,” she said softly, as if saying it so would make her words less powerful.

“How can you say that?”

Maggie pressed her lips together. “Oh, I don’t know.

I’m as confused as you are. I’m simply worried because you seem so certain of Henry and I can’t help but wonder if he deserves your devotion. How do you really know, after all? It’s not as if he’s a longtime family friend that you’ve known for years.”

Elizabeth simply would not let her friend talk sense to her when she knew she was right. “I know in here,” she said, putting a hand to her heart. “I will marry Henry and we will be happy.” She nearly laughed at the look of con fusion on Maggie’s face, and then the dawning look of horror tinged with excitement.

“You’re planning to elope!” she gushed. “When?

Where?”

Elizabeth laughed. “We’ve made no plans yet. But tonight, the way the duke acted, the things he said made me more certain than ever.”

“Elope.” Maggie said the word with wonder. “Your mother, Elizabeth, what about your mother?”

“That is a real concern,” she admitted. “We’ll simply have to deal with her later. Once we are married and she sees how happy we are, she’ll have to come ’round. Either that or we can always move somewhere. California, perhaps.”

“Henry would never go to California,” Maggie said with amazing accuracy.

Elizabeth waved her hand as if it was of no consequence. “Henry’s convinced my father would never cut us off, and I am sure he’s right, so we’ll be able to stay in New York.”

“Did Henry say ‘cut off’ or ‘cut out’?”

“What’s the difference?” Elizabeth said, sounding testy, because she did, indeed, recognize the difference. “Don’t you dare imply Henry is a fortune hunter. The duke is the only fortune hunter here. And I shall not marry him.”

With that pronouncement, Elizabeth left the powder room feeling immensely better than when she’d entered it. Maggie, however, felt eminently worse.

Elizabeth’s stomach twisted painfully and for a fleeting moment she thought she might actually vomit, something that happened infrequently when she was truly upset. Her father had requested a meeting with her—an extremely rare event—and Elizabeth could only think it meant the duke had approached him for her hand. She told herself over and over that no matter what he said, she and Henry would still run away together. The Vanderbilt ball was in three days and they would see each other again, and make plans for their elopement. In the meantime, though, she would have to suffer this meeting, her mother’s joy, and the awful proposal that the duke was sure to give.

A footman opened the door of her father’s study for her, another indication of the formality of this meeting. Her father’s study was one of her least favorite rooms. It was oppressively dark, with rich paneling and dark leather furniture. Even the paintings that graced the walls were muted and dark, violent hunt scenes in which horses reared away from lions in terror. She supposed it was a very masculine room and that was why she’d always felt so uncomfortable in it. Her father wasn’t sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, as she expected him to be, but in one of the oversized leather chairs placed by the fireplace. The heavy drapes had been pulled back and the windows opened, which allowed in not only a fresh breeze and sunshine, but a few pesky flies, as well.

“Father, you wished to see me?”

Jason Cummings steepled his fingers beneath his chin and looked very grave. Far too grave, Elizabeth thought, if he planned to tell her the duke was set to propose. For a wild, wonderful moment she dared hope the duke had begged off, that even now he was heading to New York to find passage back home.

“Sit down, my dear,” Jason said.

Elizabeth sat, clutching her hands in her lap almost painfully as the hope surged through her.

“It has come to my attention that you planned an elopement with Henry Ellsworth,” he said, and for a moment Elizabeth could only see her father’s lips moving, could hear not another word he said as those first syllables clutched at her heart.

“Are you listening?”

Elizabeth could not meet her father’s eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. Betrayed. The duke had betrayed her, had gone running to her father like a child tattling. She couldn’t think at the moment that he would have been completely justified. She could only think that he had thwarted her plans, ruined her life, broken her heart.

“I went to speak with Mr. Ellsworth.”

Elizabeth’s head shot up in surprise. “You did?”

“Of course I did. I believe I was long overdue in speaking with the man. Your mother told me to interfere months ago but I never believed you would be so irresponsible. As it is, you have forced my hand. You are never to see him or communicate with him again. All his letters shall be burned and should he be foolish enough to plan another assignation, he will be removed from every social list. Do you realize the humiliation you would bring this family, not to mention the shame upon yourself if you were to have followed through on this?”

“What did he say?” Elizabeth asked, feeling hysteria clutch at her throat.

“It’s of no consequence,” her father said, looking suddenly uncomfortable with this interview. Her father, one of the most ruthless businessmen in the country, was never at ease with emotional scenes from his daughter.

“But it is, Father. You must tell me.”

He seemed to sag a bit in his seat. “Elizabeth,” he said softly. “Please let it lie. I don’t want you any more hurt than you are.”

“Tell me,” she said through gritted teeth.

“To give Mr. Ellsworth credit, he would not accept money to leave you alone.” Jason ignored his daughter’s gasp. “He insisted that he loved you.” He took in the look in his daughter’s eyes and his expression became even more troubled. “But when I told him in no certain terms that you would be financially cut off should the two of you elope…” His voice trailed off. “Elizabeth, let it lie.”

“What? What did he say?” Elizabeth asked, tears running unchecked down her cheeks.

“He was not amenable to that. He is not destitute, of course, but he would prefer to marry a girl with a sizable dowry. He’s a practical man, I suppose, and it took very little convincing for him to give up his suit. Very little. I don’t want you to harbor any hope that he will change his mind. As soon as he became convinced he would not receive a dime upon your marriage, he bowed out. Apologized, even. I don’t want you to think too badly of the man. After all, he could not be bought outright.”

“As the duke was,” Elizabeth said bitterly.

“It’s entirely different and you know it.”

“The duke could not stomach the idea of losing out on all that money, could he, Father. I mean nothing to him. Nothing at all.”

“Elizabeth,” her father said in a warning tone. “I’m afraid you don’t know what you are talking about. The duke has made every attempt to make certain you are not completely unhappy. Indeed, he has been remark ably patient with you.” He ignored her rather unladylike snort of disbelief. “I understand your friendship with Mr. Ellsworth. But he and I have come to an under standing. He is leaving for New York today.”

“You’re lying,” Elizabeth said fiercely. “That does not sound like Henry at all. He’s never been concerned about money.” Then the soft echo of their conversation made her heart wrench.
“How could we possibly live and where? No, it’s impossible. We should elope and then go to your father.”
Henry had quickly said he would seek forgiveness, but now Elizabeth was filled with doubt, and her father must have seen that doubt in her face.

“I’m so sorry, Elizabeth. Men are practical beings. I suppose it is a good lesson to learn early on. This Mr. Ellsworth may very well love you as he says he does, but clearly that is not enough.”

“No. I suppose not.”

Jason swatted at a fly. “You’ll have no illusions about your marriage to the duke. It is better, I think, to know going in rather than to discover later that what you mistook for love of you was really love of your money. Perhaps you will find some affection for the duke in time.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Elizabeth asked, dully.

“I’m truly not the person to talk about such romantic things.” Jason cleared his throat. “Speaking of the duke, he has asked for a private meeting with you this afternoon.”

Elizabeth truly felt her stomach roil. “I hate him,” she said, staring at the dark Oriental rug beneath her feet.

“Now, Elizabeth, it is a sin to hate,” her father admonished.

She lifted her head. “It is also a sin to promise in a church before God to love, cherish, and obey a man you wish to the very devil.”

Jason stood abruptly, but Elizabeth didn’t feel a bit of fear, so she stood as well. “The duke has done nothing but promise to make you his wife.”

“He betrayed me,” Elizabeth nearly shouted, something she had not done in years.

“What the devil are you talking about? He has been nothing but kindness. Why this morning when he approached me one his greatest concerns was that you would be happy.”

Elizabeth shook her head in disgust, knowing the duke had said the words he must know a father would want to hear. “It is of no matter, as you would say. I suppose we are to have a congratulatory supper tonight. And Mother, I am certain, already has the engagement ball completely planned, right down to which shoes I should wear on my feet.”

“That is enough,” her father shouted.

“It is enough.” Elizabeth turned away, her skirts twisted around wildly, and walked as angrily as she could to the door. When she reached it, she was about to grasp the door handle, when the door was opened by the conscientious footman. “I can open my own door,” she shouted to no one in particular. She made it all the way to her room before she allowed herself to cry once more.

She had been in her room perhaps thirty seconds before a soft knock sounded and her mother entered. Without a word, Alva went to her daughter and held her and let her cry without uttering a single word. She held her until Elizabeth’s tears stopped, until her breathing returned to normal.

“There now,” Alva said, smiling gently at her daughter’s tear-ravaged face. She lifted her hand to Elizabeth’s cheek and patted it twice, softly, before standing and walking from the room, leaving her daughter staring after her.

Rand had very nearly thrown more than one million pounds out the window, but it was something his damned conscience and cursed kind heart had forced from him. He didn’t know he had it in him until he stood before Elizabeth’s father and offered to beg off. Even as he did it, he wasn’t entirely certain what he wanted to hear from the older man. As much as he needed the money, and God above knew he did, the idea of forcing a girl to marry him had become completely unpalatable.

“Are you aware that your daughter is in love with another man?” he’d asked Mr. Cummings. “If this match would at all be favorable to you, I think I will gracefully bow out and bid you good-bye.”

“I have been made aware of the situation,” Jason said carefully. “And no, the match would not be at all favorable.” Jason Cummings let out a long breath. “You must think me a terrible father for forcing this on my daughter. You will see someday how very powerfully persuasive wives can be.” He let out a chuckle.

Rand, if anything, felt worse. He had not pictured all this emotion and pure angst when he accepted the idea of marrying the American heiress. Indeed, he’d thought he’d be met with a shy, willing girl with a lofty dream of becoming a duchess. He’d met enough of them since inheriting the title. It was just his luck to be tied to the only girl who did not. So he found himself in the un tenable position of insisting on a marriage he didn’t truly want—though he certainly needed—to a girl who wished him to perdition.

“I believe it is time you proposed to my daughter, if, indeed, that is your ultimate plan. I cannot take the chance she will take flight.”

Rand raised his eyebrows. “Do you think she might?”

“I find I am constantly surprised by my daughter,” Jason said dryly.

“Mr. Cummings, I am extremely uncomfortable with—”

The older man held up a hand to stop him. “Despite her recent rebellion, she will come ’round. I know my daughter. She is only nineteen and is enjoying being the center of a tragic love affair, when in reality, she has danced with the gentleman a few times and exchanged a few ridiculous letters.”

Rand was in complete agreement, and told her father so. “If that is the case, I will propose to your daughter. I do think we suit, even if she does not.”

Jason smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” He stood and came around his desk to shake the duke’s hand. “You’ll need patience, Your Grace.”

“I do realize that, Mr. Cummings.”

Jason dropped Rand’s hand and returned to his desk. “Now on to the business side of things. I’ve had my attorney draw up some papers detailing the wedding settlement and a yearly stipend of fifty thousand pounds to continue hereafter.”

My God, Rand thought. These people are insane to pay that amount simply to give their daughter a title. The amount of the settlement was ludicrous, another fifty thousand pounds per annum was obscene. “Sir,” Rand interrupted. “I have no need of a yearly stipend. I intend to take the money from the marriage settlement, save my inheritance, and invest the rest. I would appreciate, however, any advice you can give on that matter.”

Jason gave Rand a measuring look, then carefully crossed out a portion of the settlement with his fountain pen. “Done,” he said, signing the document with a flourish.

When the older man turned the document to him, sliding it over the gleaming mahogany service of his desk, Rand felt as if his entire future lay before him. Inalterable and daunting. He took Jason’s gold-trimmed mother-of-pearl fountain pen, conscious of the richness of the writing instrument, and signed his name without looking over the paper that legally bound him to marry Elizabeth Cummings.