The Christmas Wager (3 page)

Thomas over again as they rushed to the side of their master.

―Come here, boys!‖

Thomas was looking a bit pale, but he took a deep breath

and said, ―Father—‖

―Don‘t ‗Father‘ me,‖ the duke interrupted sharply. ―You

turned your back on this family and your duty years ago.

You‘re no son of mine. And you are no longer welcome in this

house.‖

―Henry,‖ his wife said, attempting to calm him.

But the duke was beyond listening. He brandished his

walking stick at his son. ―Isn‘t it enough that I pay to keep you

in that club of yours in London? Do you want me to cut you off

entirely? I want you out of here by morning! If I catch the

smallest glimpse of you after luncheon, I‘ll have you thrown off

the premises!‖

He stormed away, calling for his dogs to follow.

The Christmas Wager |
Jamie Fessenden

17

Thomas said nothing, but he looked miserable, and

Andrew had to fight the desire to go to him. There was no

comfort he could offer.

He busied himself picking up the fragments of the

shattered teacup, while Duchess Barrington rang for the

servants.

―I‘ve told him
repeatedly
to keep those animals out of the

house,‖ she muttered, then noticed her son‘s dark expression.

―Thomas, you know how your father is.‖

―Unforgiving,‖ Thomas replied coldly.

―Stubborn,‖ Duchess Barrington amended. ―Perhaps you

can have a talk with him in the morning, when he‘s gotten over

the shock of seeing you.‖

A young servant girl appeared in the doorway, peering

around Thomas shyly, not wanting to push past him. ―You

rang, Your Grace?‖

―Ah, Charlotte. Yes. The dogs have gotten into the parlor

again. Would you please do what you can to get the mud out of

the carpet and the upholstery?‖

―Yes, ma‘am.‖

―And one of the cups has been broken—that‘s quite all

right, Mr. Nash. Charlotte will take care of it.‖

Andrew placed the fragments on his saucer and stood,

doing his best to act as though none of this were of any

consequence. But Thomas‘s unhappy expression was weighing

on him heavily.

―Oh dear,‖ Duchess Barrington said, ―I see the brutes have

damaged your outfit.‖

Andrew smiled. ―It‘s merely a bit of mud, Duchess

Barrington. I‘m sure it will come out.‖

The Christmas Wager |
Jamie Fessenden

18

―I think, perhaps, we should retire for the evening,‖

Thomas said, having found his voice at last. ―That is, unless

you think we should leave straight away, Mother.‖

His mother waved a dismissive hand. ―I see no reason you

shouldn‘t stay the night. Charlotte, have rooms been prepared

for Thomas and his guest?‖

―Yes, ma‘am. Mr. Simcox ordered His Lordship‘s old room

prepared, as well as the guest room beside it.‖

Thomas kissed his mother goodnight, and much to

Andrew‘s relief, the two young men were quickly taken upstairs.

He was beginning to regret making this arrangement with

Thomas. Andrew had always been under the impression that

Thomas cared little what the duke thought, but now he could

see that Thomas was indeed very distraught over being

unwelcome. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to leave first

thing in the morning.

The room Charlotte showed him to was palatial. It was the

largest bedroom he‘d ever seen, with an enormous four-poster

surrounded by heavy maroon bed curtains, and a sitting area

with an ornately carved table of dark mahogany, with matching

chairs. A silver tray had been laid out on the table with a

brandy decanter and a couple snifters. Two burgundy

upholstered armchairs flanked a white marble fireplace that

Andrew could have walked into, had it not currently contained

a blazing fire. He could have lived in this room alone, for it was

larger than most apartments he‘d seen.

Thomas had disappeared into his own room the moment

they arrived upstairs, but shortly after the servant girl left,

there was a faint knock on the connecting door, and Thomas

let himself in.

―I hope you find the room comfortable,‖ Thomas said.

The Christmas Wager |
Jamie Fessenden

19

He was clearly still in a foul mood, and looking for

company. Andrew had seen this side of Thomas before.

―It‘s superb,‖ he said, smiling as he removed his overcoat.

―The hall is magnificent, Thomas. Far beyond anything I‘d

imagined.‖

Thomas harrumphed and dropped into one of the

armchairs. ―It‘s far
less
than I imagined. My father has always

been impossible, but what can Edward be thinking? That little

girl probably doesn‘t even remember what Christmas is!‖

This was one of the things Andrew adored about Thomas.

In many ways, the man could often be childish and

temperamental, but he was, at heart, a man who felt

passionately about defending others. Andrew took a step

toward him, wanting to put a hand on his friend‘s shoulder,

but knowing it would be inappropriate. He rested it on the back

of Thomas‘s chair instead.

―She isn‘t your daughter,‖ he said, sensibly. ―You don‘t

really even know her.‖

Thomas sighed. ―Yes, I know. I really should have come

back when her mother passed away, but….‖

He trailed off, apparently disinclined to finish the thought.

He noticed the mud on Andrew‘s thigh and reached out to

brush it with his hand. ―I‘m afraid my father‘s dogs have ruined

your riding clothes.‖

The gesture was probably a mere afterthought—certainly

not meant to be arousing. But the light touch of Thomas‘s

fingers on Andrew‘s inner thigh, scant inches away from his

crotch, made Andrew‘s breath catch in his throat. He

attempted to disguise it with a slight cough and moved away to

stand near the fireplace, praying his arousal wasn‘t obvious

through the fabric of his breeches.

The Christmas Wager |
Jamie Fessenden

20

―I‘m certain the mud will wash out,‖ he said. Then he

noted, ―The servants seem to have given me some brandy. Shall

I pour you some?‖

―No,‖ Thomas replied, looking a bit peaked, ―My head still

feels dreadful, after last night. I suppose I‘ll go to bed early.‖

He stood, but hesitated before leaving. ―I‘m so sorry about

all of this, Andrew.‖

―You‘ve nothing to be sorry about,‖ Andrew said, giving

him a warm smile. ―Truly, I‘m the one who should apologize, for

putting you in this situation. I failed to realize how difficult it

would be for you. It was very selfish of me.‖

Thomas gave him a fleeting smile, then left.

Andrew groaned and collapsed into the other armchair.

What a mess he‘d made of things.

THOMAS lay in his bed, so familiar, yet somehow alien after six

years, hoping for sleep to finally put an end to this horrible day.

He couldn‘t honestly say he was surprised by his father‘s

reaction. But if he were being honest, he had to admit he‘d

hoped enough time had gone by for the duke to calm down.

Apparently not.

Yet if he were being
truly
honest, Thomas thought, he

would admit that what was keeping him awake was something

far more troubling.

Why did he keep having this desire to touch Andrew?

What was wrong with him? It was odd behavior, and his friend

clearly disliked it.

The Christmas Wager |
Jamie Fessenden

21

Andrew was the best friend he‘d ever had. Thomas didn‘t

want to lose him. He
couldn’t
lose him. So there was only one

thing for it. Thomas would have to stop touching him.

So, with this new resolution firm in his mind, Thomas at

last drifted off to sleep.

The Christmas Wager |
Jamie Fessenden

22

Chapter 4

ANDREW woke the next morning in the luxurious four-poster

bed and for a moment thought he must be dreaming. Then he

remembered how unhappy Thomas had been the night before

and came crashing back to reality. Barrington Hall was far

from a dream. Andrew wished he‘d never suggested they come.

Well, we’ll be heading back to London in a matter of hours
,

he reassured himself.
I just hope Thomas can forgive me for

being such a fool.

He washed his face in the water basin near the bed, and

then dressed. It was unlikely Thomas would be awake at this

hour, he knew, but he hoped to find some servants in the

kitchen who might make him some tea. Or at least show him

where it was, so he could make it himself—he wasn‘t above

boiling some water on his own.

But he soon discovered that he wasn‘t the only person

awake at that hour. Duchess Barrington was sitting down to

breakfast in the large dining room.

―Ah, Mr. Nash,‖ she said cheerfully. ―Do join me.‖

―I would be delighted, Duchess Barrington.‖

The heavy mahogany table was laid out with tea and

scones and crumpets. Andrew had never been fond of eating

first thing in the morning, but the tea was just what he needed.

Duchess Barrington insisted on pouring for him, and somehow

he ended up with a cinnamon scone on his plate, as well.

The Christmas Wager |
Jamie Fessenden

23

―Have you and Thomas made any plans for departing yet?‖

Duchess Barrington asked, getting right to the point.

Andrew took a cautious sip of the hot tea before replying.

―We haven‘t had a moment to discuss it. But I imagine His

Lordship will be anxious to get underway, as soon as he‘s had

some breakfast.‖

―You are probably correct,‖ the woman replied, looking less

than pleased. ―Which is why I need your assistance, Mr. Nash.‖

―My assistance?‖

―I‘ve been doing some thinking since last night,‖ she

continued, ―and I believe now that my son is correct. Three

years is more than sufficient time for this house to be in

mourning, and for the sake of my granddaughter, I believe it is

high time Barrington Hall celebrated the holidays again.‖

Andrew couldn‘t resist a smile. ―I‘m very pleased to hear

that, Duchess Barrington. I hope you and Susan have a very

happy Christmas.‖

―Oh, no, Mr. Nash. You misunderstand me.‖

Andrew had decided to add a pinch more sugar to his cup

of Darjeeling, but stopped with his hand on the sugar spoon.

―I am sorely outnumbered in this house,‖ Duchess

Barrington stated. ―Against my husband and Edward, I am

helpless.‖

That was a bit melodramatic, Andrew thought. After all,

there were only two other adults at Barrington Hall, apart from

servants.

―Surely not, Duchess Barrington,‖ he said, attempting to

be diplomatic.

But she would have none of it. ―It‘s true. If I am to have

any hope of bringing holiday cheer back to Barrington Hall, I

must have you and Thomas as allies.‖

The Christmas Wager |
Jamie Fessenden

24

Andrew slowly added a spoonful of sugar to his cup and

stirred it in.

―We can hardly be allies, or anything else,‖ he said

cautiously. ―We‘ve been asked to leave.‖

―I‘m aware of that, Mr. Nash. But I‘m imploring you to

keep Thomas here, at all costs.‖

She seemed to think that settled the matter. She lifted the

delicate plate of scones and smiled as she held it out to him.

Andrew still didn‘t feel like eating anything, but he took one of

the scones to appease her. Only then did he remember there

was still one on his plate.

―I don‘t think I have much say in the matter,‖ he said. ―His

Grace seemed quite adamant about Thomas leaving.‖

Duchess Barrington waved that aside as a matter of little

consequence. ―Henry is a stubborn old fool. But I‘m confident

Thomas can handle him, if he puts his mind to it.‖

She surprised him by placing a hand over his. ―It‘s clear

that you and Thomas are very close.‖ It took all of his effort not

to flinch when she said this. But of course she meant that they

were close friends. Nothing more. ―If you truly want to help him,

Mr. Nash, do not allow Thomas to return to London without

reconciling with his father.‖

THOMAS didn‘t precisely stagger downstairs, since he hadn‘t

been drinking the night before, but mornings had never suited

him. He‘d grown used to having morning tea with Andrew, and

had sought out his friend immediately upon awakening. But