Once Upon a Christmas Kiss (7 page)

Not able to stop herself from grinning back, Winnie shut her bedchamber door behind her.

She had a feeling that her life was going to be quite complicated for the next two weeks.

***

“You’re quite a good skater,” Lucien told Winnie as they drifted over the surface of the little pond where many of the other guests displayed their own skills, or lack thereof.

“As are you,” Winnie replied, pleased to note that they were well matched in this at least. “We often skated on the lake near my father’s vicarage when we were children.”

“And is your father’s vicarage where you also learned to sing?” He’d been astonished by her skill, but upon reflection he realized that the clues had been there all along. “I suppose I should have guessed, given how much Ormond’s sisters have improved since you arrived.”

Winnie looked down, and for a moment all Lucien could see was the brim of her hat with its jaunty red ribbon and cluster of red berries. When she looked up again, her eyes were wistful. “My mother loved to sing,” she said with a smile. “She was sure to teach both Cordelia and me how to play and sing. She said it would set us apart from the other young ladies. Which is silly, of course, because no singing skill can hide a lack of dowry no matter how skilled the chanteuse.”

“I don’t know,” Lucien said sincerely. “With a voice like that you might have had your pick of gentlemen if you’d been given a season.”

“You are kind to say so,” Winnie said with a smile. “In the end, it didn’t come to that, of course. And thank heavens for Mama’s insistence upon both of us practicing daily because without our music skills neither Cordy nor I should have been able to find positions for ourselves. It has stood me in very good stead, this voice of mine.”

“Do you also play?”

“Not as well as I sing, I’m afraid.” Winnie shook her head ruefully. “I was not as studious when it came to the pianoforte as Cordy was. Certainly I’m not so good as you are.”

He doubted that somehow, but Lucien didn’t argue. There would be time enough for him to test her skill on the keyboard. “Perhaps we can play a duet should the occasion arise this week.”

“I’d like that,” she said, sounding happy at the prospect.

“I hate to ruin your good mood with an unhappy subject,” Lucien said with a grimace, “but have you given any more thought to who might have left the message in your bedchamber?”

“I’ve thought of little else,” Winnie admitted, her smile fading. “It’s like a bruise I cannot help pressing at. Unfortunately, worrying at it has revealed no new insight into the matter.”

He didn’t like the notion of her preoccupation with the matter. Especially since it was now his duty to ease that burden. “Mrs. Green was very put out by the news of our betrothal. You don’t suppose she’s the culprit?” It was quite easy to imagine the matron gleefully tracing the words in powder on the dressing table. Which reminded him of something. “I was thinking that you might indeed be looking for a woman here, because I have little conviction that a man would expect to find powder—or anything else for that matter—on a lady’s dressing table. It is not something we would think of. A woman, however …”

Winnie nodded. “It’s a shrewd assumption,” she agreed. “And you are right. Mrs. Green was put out by our announcement. But so too was Mrs. Cowper. Whom, I will add, is quite angry that you have thrown her over for me.”

“There was never any question of my picking her up,” Lucien argued. “Much less throwing her. If she was nursing a tendre for me, then that is
her
trouble. I did nothing to lead her on, I assure you.”

Winnie laughed. “I do not think it was anything so tender as a
tendre
. Though I think she very much would like it if you would invite her into your bedchamber for the duration of the party.”

“I am shocked, Miss Winifred!” he said in mock surprise. “Though if I were to invite anyone into my bedchamber,” he said confidentially, “it would be you.”

To his delight she reddened. And he was so busy watching the flush creep into her cheeks, he missed his footing and they nearly toppled over on the ice.

“Remind me not to distract you,” Winnie said breathlessly as they skated to a stop at the side of the pond where benches had been set up for the skaters. “For I fear it’s quite dangerous just now.”

“Almost came a cropper there, Blakemore,” said Lord Leaming as he slid to an expert stop beside them. “You should take better care of your affianced bride, lest she seek out someone younger and more agile.”

Even if he weren’t already wishing Leaming in Hades for what he’d done to Winnie while she was in his family’s employ, Lucien would have dearly loved to pummel the bastard on his own behalf. But reminding himself that Winnie would dislike a scene, he said only, “If I need your advice, Leaming, I will ask for it, thank you.”

“No need to cut up rough, old fellow,” Leaming said with feigned innocence. “It was merely a suggestion. I wouldn’t wish for anything to happen to Miss Winifred. After all, she is my old friend.”

But Winnie would have none of it. “I am quite safe with him, I assure you, Lord Leaming. In fact, I can think of no one with whom I feel more protected.”

“Indeed?” said Leaming, smoothly. “Then I am mistaken, thankfully. But, I should like to request the honor of leading you in a turn about the pond.” He glanced knowingly at Lucien, which only infuriated him more. “That is, if your, er, protector will allow it?”

He would dearly have liked to refuse outright, but Winnie’s nod indicated that for whatever reason she wished to accept. And Leaming could hardly accost her here in front of the entire party, after all.

“I should be delighted,” Winnie said in a tone that conveyed she’d be anything but. Even so, she offered her arm to Leaming and, much to Lucien’s dismay, skated off.

“You look as if you’ve just swallowed a lemon,” Mrs. Cowper said silkily, skating up to take a seat beside him on the bench. “I shouldn’t be too concerned, however. For all that Leaming is the heir to an earldom, he is still the lesser man. And Miss Winifred Nightingale is no fool. Why choose a nasty piece of work like Leaming when she can have a charmer like you.”

“You flatter me, madam,” Lucien said, wondering what the widow wanted. He doubted it was the affair that Winnie suspected. He’d seen Mrs. Cowper in action before and knew that if she were really interested in him, she’d be pulling out all the stops. “I am hardly such a catch as all that.”

“Much as I would enjoy disabusing you of that notion,” the widow said with a raised brow, “there is something more pressing I wish to discuss.” Her expression turned serious. “There have been some whispers, and I thought perhaps you’d like to know.”

Lucien felt a chill run through him. “What sort of whispers?”

“The usual ones bruited about when a woman with more looks than social standing catches the eye of a handsome man,” she said candidly. “It has been suggested only this morning that she lured you into marriage by giving you a taste of just what she can do with that pretty mouth of hers—a preview, as it were.”

Lucien swore.

“Precisely,” Mrs. Cowper said. “And that was just the gentlemen. The ladies have been talking about her behind their fans since our arrival.”

“Who was it?” Lucien demanded in a low voice. “Which so-called gentleman?”

“I’m certainly not going to tell you that,” she said with a wry laugh. “I have no wish to have some imbecile’s death on my conscience. And I regret to inform you that there will be such speculation wherever you go from now on. It’s the price you pay for marrying beneath you.”

“You speak as if from experience,” Lucien said, annoyed by her refusal to confess, but cognizant enough that she was likely right about the outcome if she did tell him.

“You are correct,” she said inclining her head. “I married above me, and spent the years of my brief marriage at the mercy of every sort of talk. Some thought I’d convinced him to marry me with my body, while others averred it was blackmail. I don’t think a day went by when some woman or other didn’t inform me of just how fortunate I was to have trapped my poor Mr. Cowper into matrimony.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Lucien asked. “You yourself were among the ladies gossiping about Winifred from the beginning of our stay.”

Mrs. Cowper shrugged. “I suppose she’s come to grow on me. She is much less annoying that some of the other guests—that is a certainty.”

Before he could reply to that bit of damning with faint praise, his attention was drawn by a cry from the ice. Looking up he saw Leaming standing over the prone figure of Winnie, lying motionless on the ice.

Chapter Seven

“You must tell me sometime how Sir Lucien convinced you to accept his proposal, my dear Miss Winifred,” Leaming said as they set out upon the ice. “For if I recall correctly, you were quite resistant when I attempted to persuade you similarly some years ago.”

“I think you recall incorrectly, sir,” Winnie said tartly. “Because from what I remember your proposal involved nothing like matrimony.”

Leaming laughed. “I suppose you’re right there,” he agreed. “Though you don’t know what I might have proposed if you’d agreed to give me what I wanted then.”

“I have little doubt it would not have involved marriage,” Winnie returned. “Really, sir, this discussion is most improper. I would like to change the subject.”

“Oh, very well,” he said, turning them expertly round the curve of the pond. “What shall we speak of instead? What you will buy first with Sir Lucien’s bags of money? For I have it on the best authority that he is quite rich.”

“You are offensive,” Winnie said, attempting to remove her arm from his. “Let me go, sir.”

“Oh calm down,” he said holding onto her tighter. Winnie daren’t pull too hard because she’d risk falling. “I mean you no harm. This is just a little chat between old friends. And as friends I know you won’t mind agreeing to loan me a bit of the largesse that will come your way once you and your beastly baronet are wed.”

“Of course I will
not
,” Winnie said, aghast. Whatever she’d expected of him, it hadn’t been this. “You are mad to even suggest it.”

“But hear me out,” Leaming said, as if they were discussing something entirely innocuous. “You see, I know things about you, Miss Winifred; things that perhaps you will not like for your betrothed to know. Like the location of a certain mole on your hip, for instance.”

Despite herself, Winnie gasped. This was much worse than she’d possibly imagined. Still, she was able to regain her composure quickly enough. “You may go right ahead and tell him,” she said boldly. “For he knows all about what went on between us in your father’s house. And he doesn’t think very highly of you anyway, so I do not think he will believe you.”

Whatever Leaming would have said in response was drowned out by the high-pitched squeal of Lady Emily and Miss Green, who brushed past Winnie as they skated by arm in arm.

They were followed by Mrs. Green, who also touched Winnie as she skated past.

“Watch it!” Leaming said sharply. “Foolish chits. I don’t know what Stannis sees in Lady Emily. And that Miss Green’s mother is enough to make any man choose a lifetime of celibacy rather than marry into
that
family.”

After his earlier blackmail attempts, Winnie was rather shocked by his grousing over the other women. Clearly he had any number of grievances, in addition to a lack of funds.

They’d only skated a few feet further when she began to feel woozy. It became difficult for her to maintain her grasp on Leaming’s arm. To her horror, she felt her knees begin to buckle, and cried out as she fell.

“What the…?” Winnie heard Leaming’s voice. “Miss Winifred? Miss Winifred?”

After that, the rest was darkness.

***

“What did you do, Leaming?” Lucien barked, lifting Winnie into his arms and skating with her to the benches. “If you’ve caused her any damage, you bastard, I’ll not bother with a challenge.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Leaming protested, skating up behind them, his voice defensive. “One minute we were talking, and the next, she collapsed beside me.”

“It’s true, Luce,” Hurst said from beside them. “Helen and I were not far behind, and I saw nothing untoward.”

“Here.” Lady Helen stepped forward to where Winnie lay on the wooden bench. “I’ll sit with her while you remove your skates. It will take a few minutes to fetch one of the sleds, but Jeremy can make sure that the servants hurry.”

Not wanting to leave Winnie, whose skin was nearly as pale as the snow on the ground, Lucien allowed Hurst to lead him to another bench so that he could change back into his boots. If the sleigh took too long he’d just carry her back to the house, Lucien decided. It was surely not good for her to remain here in the freezing cold.

By the time he returned to Winnie’s side, she was awake, but groggy. “What happened?” she asked, attempting to sit up, but then perhaps deciding against it. “Did I collide with someone?”

“No, my dear girl,” Lucien said, kneeling beside her, unable to let go of her hand. “You appear to have fainted.”

“Do you not remember anything?” Cordelia asked from her other side. Lucien noted that her face was nearly as white as her sister’s. He also saw that Beesley stood directly behind her, as if waiting for instructions should Cordelia think of any.

By this time, the rest of the other skaters were crowded around them, strangely quiet, as if waiting to hear some declaration from Winnie that would reveal the truth of what had happened.

“I remember Miss Green and Lady Emily passing,” Winnie said, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Then Mrs. Green … but after that? Everything is fuzzy.”

At that moment the horse-drawn sleigh arrived, and once Lucien was settled in with Winnie gathered in his arms, they set off, with the rest of the party following on foot.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Winnie said, her head resting against his shoulder.

Lucien was more than a little grateful for the privacy afforded them. He needed, at this moment, to feel her in his arms. He’d never experienced the sort of panic that had gripped him when he saw her motionless on the ice.