The Christmas Heiress (14 page)

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Authors: Adrienne Basso

BOOK: The Christmas Heiress
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"How about a biography?" Edward held up two
substantial volumes. `Julius Caesar or Alexander
the Great?"

Miss Aldridge lifted her right hand to her face and
tapped her index finger pensively on her chin as she
carefully considered his suggestions. "Alexander,"
she decided. "He was one of the world's greatest generals, becoming King of the Macedonians at the age
of twenty and then conquering the Persian Empire."

"The perfect choice," Edward agreed with a quick
smile. He crossed over to his desk and rummaged
through the satchel of papers he had brought from
London, pulling out a slim leather volume. "And to
balance out the lessons, a bit of fun."

"A Christmas Carol! What an inspired idea." She
took the book and leafed through it. I do not
think anything captures the true spirit of the holiday better than this story. But this is your personal
copy. Are you sure you wish to part with it?"

"I can always get another." Hoping to make
amends for his earlier rudeness, Edward indicated
the chair that Jonathan had vacated and invited
Miss Aldridge to sit. Surprisingly, she did so, perching herself graceful on the edge of the chair, the
books held firmly in her lap.

"Would you care for coffee? Or tea? I can ring for
Harris."

"Refreshments are unnecessary, my lord, but I
would enjoy a brief respite. It gets rather chaotic
with so many helpers all offering differing opinions
on the best way to get things done."

"I can imagine," he muttered.

"No, you really cannot. This is something that
must be experienced to be completely understood."

"Or believed?"

Miss Aldridge's mouth twitched. "Pray, do not let
me keep you from your work, my lord." She nodded
toward the papers strewn across the desk.

Not wanting to lie outright, Edward chose his
words carefully. "'Tis nothing of great importance.
I was merely reviewing some papers I was unable to
read before I left London. Social items mainly."

Her finely arched eyebrows lifted. "They look much
more like business reports, with lots of columns and
numbers."

He glanced nervously toward his desk, where the
papers were openly displayed. "Ahh, yes, it appears
as though my secretary included a financial accounting summary of some of the investments he
wants me to review."

"They look very detailed for a summary," she
commented.

He turned and stared at her in surprise. "Do you
have any familiarity with these types of documents?"

"I am learning." She pursed her lips in a determined line. "I am Grandfather's heir, and while I
shall always rely upon the advice of others when
making any sort of financial decision, I also believe
it is very necessary for me to have at least a basic understanding of finances and investments. How else
can I properly manage my estate and its holdings?"

"That is a most intriguing concept, teaching a
woman the business skills that many men of our
class so often lack."

"Do you disapprove?" She caught his gaze and
there was a look of challenge in her eyes as if she
dared him to say it.

"Apparently, it would be unwise if I did."

"Precisely." She choked back a laugh. "We are sent
to school, but once there, women are taught to be ladies, to have perfect posture and to glide gracefully
whenever we move. I was a bit of a rebel and took the
initiative to read what was inside those books that
were perched so precariously upon my head."

He grinned. He liked knowing she had a backbone when it came to things she thought were important. "I realize I am at great risk of igniting your
ire, yet I am compelled to say that your posture is
excellent, Miss Aldridge."

She accepted the compliment with a serene nod
of her head. "I learned the feminine arts first, my
lord, but wisely decided as I grew older that I needed
to know more in life than how to look fetching."

"You appear to be succeeding in both areas."

Though said in a flirting manner, the compliment was sincerely given. Edward wondered again
why she was still single, why no man had the brains,
or courage, to take her as his wife.

"I have recently begun to acquire a rudimentary
knowledge of business and finances, but there is
still so much for me to learn." She took a slow
breath. "Perhaps some time you can share some of
your own knowledge. I would be most grateful."

"Me?"

"Oh, come now, my lord. There is no need to be
modest." She leaned forward. "I know your secret."

The comment hung in the air. Edward wondered
if he could simply ignore it, but though he tried, he
could not stifle his curiosity. "What secret, Miss
Aldridge?"

"Your mother tries to pretend that you occasionally
dabble in investments, presumably for fun, and those
of us who care about her indulge this whim." She
shrugged in an offhanded manner. "But anyone with half a brain knows you run an impressive business
empire, with an unprecedented amount of success."

He was too shocked by her frank speech to deny
it. "It does not offend you?"

She burst out laughing. "Offend me? Because
you have purpose and direction in your life, because you are successful? Quite the contrary. I find
it admirable. And fascinating."

"You are very much in the minority," he said.

"Perhaps," she agreed. "I do share your view on
the dismal lack of wit among the ton, yet you must
allow that not all members of the aristocracy display
the intelligence of a turnip. There are many of us
who can actually engage in sensible conversation
for more than five minutes."

"A rare breed," he said with a slight smile.

She sat back in her seat and considered him for a
moment. "You, my lord, are a snob," she pronounced.

Edward's expression lightened. "That, I fear, is
my true secret, Miss Aldridge." She was probably
right. He had dismissed so many individuals of his
class, both male and female, as witless, without
giving them the opportunity to prove otherwise.

There were men of intelligence within the aristocracy, men who devoted their lives to politics and
public services, men who managed large estates and
properties with success. Yet sadly they were in the
minority.

"Tell me about your work." She must have sensed
his hesitation, for she added, "I'm sure a lot of what
you must do is tedious and mundane, but surely
there is some excitement, some element of risk that
makes it a daring venture."

A flippant retort sprang to his lips, but she was so
openly sincere he could not make light of her earnest inquiry. Besides, he reasoned, she would be
bored to tears within a few minutes, searching for a
polite excuse to leave.

So he told her of his first success, the restoration
of a run-down cotton mill, how he had naively paid
too much for the business, yet by promising the
workers a higher wage had managed to turn a
profit in less than a year. He spoke of the exotic
goods his many ships imported-teas grown in the
Far East, silks from China, muslins from India and
the many spices from the Spice Islands.

He spoke of the different factories he owned and
his concern that the conditions were safe so his
workers would remain healthy and produce quality
goods at a productive rate. He mentioned his most
recent interest in the growing rail lines and his acquisition of a steel mill and a locomotive factory.

She listened intently to all of it, asking pertinent,
intelligent questions. It was the first time Edward
had ever discussed his empire in its entirety with
anyone and it felt good to relate his successes and
comment upon his failures.

The clock chimed the hour, startling them both.
Miss Aldridge glanced up, her eyes widening. "Gracious, is that the time? I really must go."

Clutching the two books he had given her tightly to
her chest, she curtsied, then turned toward the door.
Edward hurried forward so he could hold it open.

She gave him a dazzling smile of thanks as she
passed through the doorway. He responded with
one of his own.

"I look forward to seeing you later this afternoon,"
he said, startled to realize how much he meant it.

He had no business showing any sort of interest
in Charlotte Aldridge. Given their past, given his re cently broken engagement, given all the unsettling
emotions that were stirring inside him since his
return to the manor.

He should have stayed in London. He should
have braved the gossips, ignored the pitying whispers and devoted himself to work.

The earl was very aware that many an intelligent,
steadfast man was brought to foolishness at the
hands of an outspoken, spirited woman like Miss
Aldridge. But most dangerous of all was knowing
that the prospect did not distress Edward, but
rather enlivened and excited him.

 
CHAPTER 8

Jonathan was feeling weary as he stepped into the
outer courtyard at the back of the mansion. The intense animosity between his brother and mother
was a physically and emotionally draining situation,
especially since he was caught in the middle, trying
to act as the peacemaker between two warring parties who were each determined to emerge the victor.

Though he would never admit it to Edward, more
than once he had questioned his advice and insistence that his brother return home. Their mother
was being far more obstinate than he expected, and
Edward's cooperation had been less than complete.
The pair had managed to be polite to each other in
front of other people, but Jonathan honestly wondered how long that would last.

The only thing he did feel confident about was
knowing that it was going to be a very unusual Christmas this year.

A gust of wind blew open his unbuttoned coat
and Jonathan shivered. The day was bright and
sunny, but cold. The air held the distinct smell of approaching snow. Jonathan hoped it would arrive
in time for Christmas.

He blew into his fists and rubbed his hands together, wishing he had thought to wear his gloves.
He had not realized he would need them for the
short walk to the stables.

After ascertaining with the stable master that all
was in proper order for the afternoon's riding ex-
pedition,Jonathan took the shorter route around
the side of the stables on his way back to the manor.
As he turned the corner, the flash of a blue cloak
caught his attention. It was Miss Montgomery, walking with strident purpose through the terraced
garden toward the back veranda.

He was just about to call out a greeting when she
lifted her head. Their eyes met. She stopped dead
in her tracks and stared at him for a long moment.
Jonathan smiled broadly with delight, but Miss
Montgomery stared in astonishment.

Clearly, he was the last person she expected to
see. She lowered her head hastily and moved even
faster, choosing a path that would deliberately take
her away from him.

His heart plummeted. "Miss Montgomery, wait!"

At his command she halted, her shoulders stiff
with tension. "Is there something you needed?"

"I just wanted to say hello."

Jonathan advanced on her. Trapped, she gazed
around nervously almost as though she were considering the odds of him being able to catch her if
she ran. Puzzled by this unusual reaction, Jonathan
quickened his stride.

"Good morning, sir." She fell into a full curtsey
when he reached her side. The gesture embarrassed him, though she clearly made the point that she
viewed herself as a subservient, inferior person.

"There's no need for all of that," he chided gently,
helping her to rise.

Jonathan liked Miss Montgomery. Very much. She
was beautiful, with dark fluttering lashes and a wise
smile, but it was not her looks that wholly captivated
him. She had a quiet intelligence that soothed him,
a gentle manner that charmed him, a musically
pitched voice that made him want to listen to her
speak all day long. She was the type of woman that
men dreamed about, the type of woman one could
cherish and love and hold forever in their heart.

He reached down and lifted her hand, then held
it between his own. Like him, she wore no gloves.
Her skin felt cold, but soon it grew warm. She tried
to pull away, but he held on tightly, refusing to let go.

"You should not hold my hand," she said softly.

"Why not? I find I like it very much."

"As do I, which makes it most dangerous."

"Ah, Evelyn."

"You make me feel special, sir, as if someone cares
about me. Which is a very foolish notion indeed."

Finally, she glanced up at him, peeking out from
under the rim of her bonnet. Her lush, red lips
were slightly parted, moist and mere inches away.
The temptation to close the gap between them and
press his lips to hers was unbearable. Jonathan tried
to pull himself away from his unruly hunger, but
the power of his craving was far too potent.

"Forgive my boldness," he whispered as he moved
his hand to cup her chin, tilting her face upward.

He kissed her full on the mouth. Her lips were
warm, her breath sweet and she tasted like heaven. His tongue played along the line of her lips, back
and forth, back and forth and then slipped inside.

He heard her breath catch, felt his own heart
pounding in his ears. He tasted her lips over and
over until finally he knew he had to stop or else he
would disgrace himself.

Their lips separated and he kissed her eyes and
nose and cheeks. He moved to her ear and whispered his long-held secret, "I have wanted to do
that since the first moment I met you."

Jonathan waited for her maidenly outrage, bracing
himself for the possibility of a slap across the face, yet
regretted nothing. The kisses they had just shared
were worth risking her anger and condemnation.

But to his surprise, she lifted her hand and traced
the tip of her finger across her slightly swollen lips.
"Two years is a long time to wait for a kiss. I hope
you found it as magical as I did."

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