Regency Christmas Proposals

To give the Earl of Stanford his due, the man had been only too happy to accept Gray’s apology—both for doubting the truth of his information and for Gray’s terse letter of response. And Alice, Stanford’s wife, had been warm in her sympathy. So warm and sympathetic, in fact, that after eating a delicious luncheon and imbibing far too much of a first-class wine Gray had felt comfortable enough in her company to broach the subject of Amelia. Most especially Gray’s immediate problem as to what to do with her whilst he spent Christmas at Mulberry Hall with the St Claire family.

A subject which in retrospect, Gray now accepted grimly, would have been far better left unsaid.

‘Will you join me for tea, Gideon …?’

Gray stiffened in the act of handing his hat and coat to the footman who had—again, thankfully—appeared as soon as Gray entered the house, slowly turning to face Amelia as she stood in the doorway of the Blue Salon. As usual she looked charmingly enticing, in a gown of cream silk, and the colour of her eyes was bright as she returned his gaze with innocent enquiry.

An innocence Gray would do well to remember in the future, he admonished himself firmly. ‘Tea?’ he repeated, with a delicate curl of his top lip.

‘Tea.’ Amelia gave a gracious inclination of her head. ‘Now that you are returned, I thought we might talk together as you suggested earlier …?’

The ride home had helped to dull some of the effects of the wine Gray had imbibed over lunch, but certainly not all of it. Neither was he any further forward—having totally dismissed Alice Wycliffe’s solution to the problem—in knowing what to do about Amelia whilst he travelled into Gloucestershire for Christmas.

‘We will only discuss how you wish to decorate the house for Christmas, if you would prefer, My Lord …?’ Amelia suggested tentatively as she obviously saw his frown of displeasure.

Gray’s scowl deepened just at the mention of Christmas, and he felt the beginnings of a headache pounding at his temple. ‘I have absolutely no interest in the subject of Christmas decorations!’

Amelia gave a lightly teasing laugh. ‘But we must at least bring in some holly and mistletoe! It will smell so wonderful, and—You had realised that Christmas is only a week away, Gideon?’

Of course Gray had realised. In truth, it had been part of his reason for visiting the Wycliffes. In the hope that they might offer to have Amelia with them at Wycliffe Hall for the holiday …

A hope that had been completely dashed once Daniel Wycliffe, a close friend of Hawk St Claire, Duke of Stourbridge, had informed Gray that he and his wife had also received and accepted an invitation to spend Christmas at Mulberry Hall. In fact it was their plan, due to Alice Wycliffe’s ‘delicate condition’, to begin a slow and leisurely four-day journey there on the morrow, in order that the Countess did not overtire herself.

‘You do intend being here for Christmas, Gideon …?’ Amelia looked uncertain at Gray’s continued silence.

That was a question Gray no longer had a straightforward answer to. His initial decision to come to Steadley Manor, deal with whatever needed dealing with here, ensure that his ward was being cared for, and then depart to Mulberry Hall for the Christmas holiday was no longer as clear-cut and decisive as it had once been.

Obviously some of the servants had returned to Steadley Manor whilst Gray had been with the Wycliffes, which would ensure Amelia’s comfort whilst he was away. But could Gray really just up and leave her here alone, apart from the servants, over Christmas? The warm and sympathetic Alice Wycliffe had not seemed to think it even a possibility.

The Countess’s solution to the problem?

Why, that Gray take Amelia to Mulberry Hall with him, of course! Which was utterly unacceptable!

‘Gideon …?’ Amelia prompted at his continued silence.

He did look wickedly handsome today, she acknowledged as a delicious shiver ran the length of her spine. So tall and darkly rakish, his hair slightly windswept from his ride, and his elegantly tailored clothes emphasising the width of his shoulders, the narrowness of his waist, and the long length of his muscled legs.

Elegantly tailored clothes that ably concealed that scarred chest and back …

And, of course, the bandage upon his arm, where Amelia had shot him the previous evening!

He gave her an impatient glance as he strode purposefully across the entrance hall. ‘I suggest we retire to the privacy of the Blue Salon for this discussion, Amelia.’

She did not much like the sound of that, Amelia acknowledged with a grimace as Gideon stood to one side to allow her to precede him into the blue and cream room. She had deliberately chosen this room in which to wait for his return, knowing that the blue drapes and chaise were a perfect match in colour for her eyes. An effect that, at the moment, seemed completely lost on the stiffly forbidding Lord Grayson.

‘Perhaps you prefer not to celebrate Christmas, Gideon …?’ Amelia sat down upon the blue chaise and leant forward to pour tea into the two cups she had requested in the hope that Gideon would return in time to join her.

Gray would prefer not to celebrate this particular Christmas! Would prefer to forget its very existence, in fact. ‘I believe I told you to call me Gray …?’

She gave a ruefully dismissive shake of her head, blonde curls brushing against her cheeks and nape. ‘I consider it too impersonal for our particular relationship—’

‘We do not have a relationship!’ Gray glared down at her fiercely as he stood with his hands clasped tightly together behind his back. And felt as if he had just kicked a defenceless kitten as he saw the sudden tears that welled in Amelia’s deep blue eyes at the fierceness of his tone. Except this young woman was anything but defenceless; she had shot him in the arm the previous evening!

She blinked long-lashed lids in an obvious effort to prevent those tears from falling. ‘It has become obvious to me that you resent having been burdened with my guardianship—’

‘I did not say that, damn it!’

She bowed her head, revealing the vulnerable curve of her nape as she murmured quietly, ‘You did not need to put it into words, My Lord.’

Gray did not need to do a lot of things. Mainly he did not need to take out his temper, his frustration with this situation, on someone who was completely innocent—at least in this particular matter. After all, Amelia had not asked to become his ward. Circumstances had placed her as much as he in their present position. Besides which, Gray could not stand to see those tears balanced so precariously upon the long sweep of her lashes …!

He crossed the room in long, impatient strides to sit down beside her on the chaise. ‘I am a surly devil this afternoon, Amelia. Please do not cry—’ He broke off abruptly as, with a choked sob, Amelia launched herself into his arms to bury her face against his chest, and her slender arms moved tightly about his waist as she clung to him.

Gray had managed, in his brief respite from Amelia’s physically disturbing presence, to convince himself that he had made too much of his attraction to her the previous evening. He had only felt it because he had thought to punish his ward’s companion for threatening to shoot him. The fact that he had enjoyed holding Amelia more than he ought was merely an indication, he had assured himself, of the fact that he had been too long without a woman.

Learning that the woman he had held in his arms and held so intimately was in fact his ward, should have completely nullified Gray’s response to her.

But now, as Gray’s arms moved slowly—against his every instinct for caution!—about the slenderness of Amelia’s waist, drawing the softness of her curves against him, her gold curls were an enticement he could not resist. He rested his cheek against their softness and knew that he had only been deceiving himself. That it was the creamy perfection of Amelia’s skin that tempted him, the touch of Amelia’s silky hair that enticed him, the heat of Amelia’s body through the soft material of her gown that aroused him and once again caused his thighs to harden and ache.

So much so that Gray wanted nothing more than to lay her down naked upon the chaise this very minute and make full and satisfying love to her!

Lord help him …!

Having spent several months revelling in not having to answer to anyone for anything she did or said, Amelia had surprisingly found herself missing Gideon Grayson’s forceful presence today.

No doubt, considering what he had revealed to her of Sanders’ behaviour, Gideon had been busy with further estate business. Indeed, the fact that so many of the servants had already returned to Steadley Manor, and that Mr Davies was once again about his business on the estate, including having arranged for a locksmith to come and repair the lock on the front door, showed Amelia just how busy Gideon had been in those hours before she had even come downstairs this morning.

There had been a welcoming rush and a bustle about the house all day and the maids had cleaned and polished all the main rooms downstairs, as well as lit all the fires. Mrs Burdock was preparing them a veritable feast for dinner this evening now that she had at least some of her kitchen maids to help her.

The fact that everyone about Amelia was so busy had only succeeded in her feeling her aloneness more keenly. To have had Gideon return so cold and so distant had only added to those feelings of alienation. A feeling that had disappeared the moment she’d pressed her cheek against the warmth of his chest and felt and heard the strong and steady beat of his heart.

She burrowed closer against that protective chest now. ‘I really am sorry that you have been burdened with my guardianship, Gideon,’ she told him emotionally, the tears still falling hotly down her cheeks, no doubt soaking his pristine white linen. ‘I would offer to relieve you of that burden—except I have no one else and nowhere else to go—’

‘Do not give it another thought, Amelia, please!’ His arms tightened about her. ‘I am the one who is at fault for having ignored my responsibility to you for so long.’

His responsibility …

Yes, Amelia accepted heavily, that was all she was to Gideon Grayson—a tiresome responsibility that had come about simply because his brother had been married to her mother for merely months before her sudden and unexpected death.

No wonder, then, that Gideon Grayson had chosen to ignore her very existence for all this time. No surprise, either, that he now found her presence here in his home irksome. He certainly could not be enjoying having her cry all over him and making such a mess of his elegant clothing!

Amelia raised her head slightly as she lifted a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks before raising her lashes to look at him. Her breath caught in her throat and her lips parted in a silent oh as she instantly found herself mesmerised by the deep grey of Gideon’s eyes. Eyes that were fixed, intent upon her own slightly parted lips …

‘My Lord …?’ she breathed shallowly.

‘Gideon,’ he encouraged gruffly.

Amelia swallowed hard before obeying the invitation. ‘Gideon.’

He really did have the most beautiful mouth, Amelia decided breathlessly. She found herself unable to look away. So firm, and yet at the same time sensuous, the top lip slightly fuller than the bottom, hinting at a passionate nature. The passionate nature also hinted at the previous evening.

A passion she found herself longing to experience. To explore. To know. As she longed to experience the feel of that hard and yet sensual mouth moving passionately against her own …

He had to stop this now, Gray recognised in some alarm. He knew himself on the point of giving in to the temptation to lower his head and claim the fullness of Amelia’s parted and slightly raised lips with his own. He should distance himself now—before he stepped over a line he had no business stepping over.

Except …

There was always an except where this particular young woman was concerned, Gray realised self-disgustedly. A part of him that wanted to say to hell with it and kiss her anyway, before he explored and tasted the nakedness of her full and ripe body.

And once he had? What then? What would become of their tenuous connection then?

Amelia was his ward, a young and unmarried lady of quality—not an experienced or married woman of the ton whom Gray could dally and flirt with, possibly bed, before moving on to another conquest.

In a word, this attraction Gray felt towards Amelia Ashford was dangerous!

Holding her in his arms last night, when he’d had no idea who she was, had been a mistake. Kissing her now, knowing exactly who she was, would be nothing short of a catastrophe!

Damn it, if Gray had found any other man in this compromising position with his ward then he knew he would have had no choice but to either demand satisfaction or an offer of marriage from that man. He had no intention of offering either of those things!

Gray moved back abruptly, taking a grasp on the tops of Amelia’s arms to hold her firmly away as she would have swayed towards him. He had to shift slightly in order to ease the uncomfortable bulge in his pantaloons as she looked up at him in pouting disappointment.

Perhaps Alice Wycliffe’s suggestion was the right one after all …?

Obviously Gray could not remain here alone with Amelia any longer than he absolutely had to. Nor could he leave her to her own devices whilst he went on his way to Mulberry Hall. Perhaps the best thing would be to take Amelia with him.

No!

Every part of Gray flared up in protest at the idea of introducing Amelia to the St Claire family. Hawk St Claire, the aristocratic Duke of Stourbridge, was as austerely handsome as he was intimidating. Lucian St Claire was considered as broodingly attractive as he was taciturn, and had also been a hero at Waterloo. And Sebastian St Claire, a charming rake before his marriage, had been Gray’s closest friend and companion during those nights in Town when he had reputedly gambled and womanised!

Nor did Gray consider the wives of the three St Claire brothers to be any more of an example for Amelia to emulate. Jane, Hawk’s Duchess of just over a year, was a ravishingly beautiful redhead who cared little for the dictates and restraints of Society. Grace, Lucian’s recent bride, was as wilfully determined as she was beautiful. Sebastian, the wildest of the three brothers, had surprised everyone two months ago, when he had married Juliet, an ethereally lovely young widow who already carried his child.

As for the youngest member of the St Claire family …

Arabella, the young sister of the three St Claire brothers, despite now being married to the devilishly handsome Duke of Carlyne, was also a perfect hellion. And Gray knew firsthand exactly how managing and forthright the beautiful Arabella could be when she chose!

For Gray to take Amelia into the midst of that arrogant and aristocratic family would be complete madness on his part.

And he did not believe himself to have been driven completely mad as yet …

Chapter Six

Amelia knew just from looking at the hard implacability of Gideon’s expression as he turned to face her that she was not going to like what he said next. Any more than she liked the fact that he had moved away from her so abruptly when it had looked as if he might have been going to kiss her …!

‘You really have no one else to stay with?’ he rasped. ‘No other family? Grandparents? Uncles or aunts?’

Perhaps an old family friend, or even just an acquaintance, who might be persuaded into taking responsibility for her? Amelia inwardly finished with a proud straightening of her spine. ‘There is not even an old family dog who might be brought here to keep me company!’ Her eyes flashed.

Lord Grayson’s mouth firmed. ‘There is no need to take that tone, Amelia—’

‘There is every need if I have correctly understood your reluctance for my company!’ Amelia stood up abruptly. ‘But do not be alarmed, sir. I have my own rooms, and if necessary can easily remain in them for the duration of your stay here!’

She looked beautiful as she stared him down so proudly, Gray acknowledged ruefully. Every inch the lady she undoubtedly was. Every inch of her too beautiful and desirable for his own peace of mind.

‘Do not be so melodramatic, Amelia.’ Gray affected a bored tone. ‘The fact that you no longer have a companion here with you is, I admit, a little …inconvenient—’

‘It is not inconvenient to me, sir.’ She gave a determined shake of her head. ‘You can have no idea of the constraints that have been placed upon me since I first entered your brother’s household.’

A reminder, Gray recognised, of his complete lack of thought or understanding for what Amelia’s life might have been these past years. Or what her life had been before that time …

‘Tell me,’ he encouraged huskily. ‘I know nothing of either your mother or your own life before she and Perry were married.’ Gray’s admission caused him some discomfort as he acknowledged that he should have made more of an effort to meet his brother’s wife and stepdaughter. ‘Where did you and your mother live before you came here?’ He moved to sit in one of the pale blue chairs set beside the fire, crossing one leg over the other as he looked up at Amelia enquiringly.

Her shoulders lost some of their stiffness. ‘We had a cottage beside the sea in a small village on the Devonshire coast. My father’s family came from there originally. He was the son of a vicar, but always wanted to be a soldier.’ She gave a rueful smile at that irony.

A cottage set beside the sea in a village on the Devonshire coast …

The complete opposite, Gray acknowledged, to a manor house set alone in the flat and often bleak Bedfordshire countryside.

Amelia gave a shake of her head. ‘My mother was the daughter and only child of the local squire. He died before I was born, so I never knew him, but according to my mother he had high expectations of his only child making an advantageous marriage. He would not even entertain the idea of her marrying the soldier son of the local vicar! My mother and father ran away together, and were married when my mother was but seventeen. It was a happy marriage.’ Her chin rose defensively, as if she expected Gray to challenge the statement.

Which he had no intention of doing. ‘They returned to the village following their marriage …?’

‘Not immediately, no.’ Amelia gave a smile. ‘My mother accompanied my father on his campaigns for a year or more, and I believe it was only decided my mother must return to England once they knew she was expecting a child. Her father—my grandfather—had been killed in a hunting accident several months earlier, unfortunately without there having been any reconciliation between the two of them, which resulted in his leaving all his wealth to a distant cousin or some such.’ She shrugged delicate shoulders. ‘But, having returned alone to England, it was my mother’s wish to live in the village she knew, with people she was familiar with.’

‘That sounds …sensible.’ Gray nodded, having more of an understanding now of where Amelia had come by her indomitable spirit. With a soldier for a father, and a mother who had known and determined her own heart even in the face of parental disapproval, Amelia had been sure to be of similar determination and courage. That same determination and courage that had enabled her to face down an intruder with a pistol the evening before!

Amelia nodded. ‘I am sure that my mother must have missed my father deeply, but it was an idyllic childhood as far as I was concerned. Months when I had my mother completely to myself, followed by weeks of excitement and outings when my father, now a sergeant in his regiment, was able to join us.’

The wistfulness of her expression told Gray just how idyllic, how happy, that childhood had been.

Her chin rose proudly. ‘My father was killed four years ago. At which time his commanding officer, Major Lord Peregrine Grayson—’ she smiled affectionately ‘—wrote to my mother, expressing his deepest sympathy at the loss of such a gallant soldier as he considered my father to be, and promising that he would visit her in person as soon as he was able.’

That sounded like Perry, Gray acknowledged with sad affection, knowing that his brother had been a man who’d felt the loss of each and every man in his own regiment and, once it had been believed the fighting was over, had tried to visit the close relatives of all who had died whilst fighting alongside him during those bloody years of war.

‘Obviously it was a fortuitous visit …?’

Those blue eyes narrowed. ‘I trust you are not implying—’

‘I assure you I am not implying anything, Amelia.’ Gray held up silencing hands. ‘From Perry’s account of things, he and your mother fell in love with each other on sight.’

‘Yes.’ Amelia sighed sadly at the memory of how her mother’s second marriage to Lord Peregrine Grayson had lasted only for a few brief months before her mother was taken ill with influenza and as quickly died.

‘Which brings us back to here and now, and what to do with you.’

Amelia eyed Gideon Grayson warily. ‘What to do with me …?’

He gave an autocratic inclination of his head. ‘It has been suggested to me, as you are nineteen years of age, that come the spring you might like to have a Season in London.’

‘A Season? Really?’ Amelia eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect of going to London. Until she realised exactly what Gideon had said. ‘Been suggested by whom …?’ she prompted suspiciously.

He glanced down to brush a speck of lint from his perfectly tailored pantaloons. ‘An acquaintance.’

What acquaintance? Amelia wondered with a frown. And when and where had Gideon met this acquaintance? Had it been this morning? Or had this already been decided upon, discussed with a third party, before Gideon even came to Steadley Manor? Perhaps—Amelia felt a pained contraction of her chest—with the mistress in London who currently shared Gideon’s bed …?

‘That is the reason I asked a few minutes ago if you had any relatives—older female relatives, obviously—who might act as chaperone during that time,’ Gideon continued coolly.

‘I am sorry, no.’ There was a complete lack of apology in Amelia’s slightly defiant tone.

Gideon had discussed her—what to do with her!—with a third party. As if she were some unasked-for package that had been delivered to his door by mistake. An unasked-for and unwanted package that Gideon Grayson obviously now wished to rid himself of at the earliest opportunity!

Amelia looked at him coldly. ‘And is it your intention that during this Season I attempt to find myself a husband …?’

He looked momentarily disconcerted, before nodding abruptly. ‘If that is your wish, yes.’

Exactly as Amelia had suspected.

Gray could see by the rebellious glitter that suddenly entered Amelia’s expressive blue eyes that he had somehow spoken out of turn. Again. Although what could be wrong about following through on Alice Wycliffe’s suggestion that come the spring he take Amelia to London and rig her out with a complete new wardrobe before launching her into Society, Gray had absolutely no idea.

Although it had not occurred to him until Amelia questioned his motives that she might possibly procure herself a husband during that time …

Damn it, he should be the one who was put out by the very idea of having to introduce Amelia into Society, when doing so would mean having to put himself to the inconvenience of attending the numerous balls and parties given by the ton that he usually made such a point of avoiding. As a wealthy and titled bachelor, Gray knew that showing his face in Society meant that every marriage-minded mama in the country would trample over anyone who stood in her way in order that she might reach his side and extol the virtues of her daughter as his prospective future wife!