The Christmas Heiress (18 page)

"I want to put gas lighting in the mansion."

"Why? It is not needed."

"It would be an improvement."

"Candlelight and oil lamps are perfectly adequate for all of our needs. Gas lights are a very unnecessary and costly suggestion."

"I have installed them in my London home and
find they are quiet efficient." Edward warmed to
the subject, hoping to convey his genuine wish to
make life easier for all who lived at Farmington
Manor, including his mother. "As for the cost, I
have been reviewing the household accounts and
have discovered that a great deal of coin is being
spent on beeswax candles."

His mother shot him a look. "I had no idea you
would object to my having quality candles in my
home. I suppose I could economize and put tallow
ones in the servants' quarters, though I am told
they give off a faint odor that is sheeplike in nature.
And the wicks have to be regularly snuffed."

Edward shook his head. "You misunderstand. I
do not object to the cost of beeswax candles. I am
merely suggesting an alternative that would be an
improvement for everyone. Including you."

"I do not believe for a moment that you are interested in improvements. You want to exercise your
authority, and make these unnecessary, ridiculous
changes just to vex me."

"What purpose would that possible serve?"

"Revenge."

Edward felt a flash of cold travel through him,
but it was not the type of chill that could be
warmed by a fire. "A harsh condemnation. Do you
believe that you have given me a reason to seek revenge?"

The countess eased stiffly up in her chair. "I do
not presume to understand anything about you,
Edward, but there is no denying that we have had
our differences over the years."

Differences! Edward could barely contain his snort
of stunned amazement. "I would like all that to
end, Mother."

"As if it all never occurred?"

"No, as if it were all part of a forgotten past."

She managed a melancholy smile. "Are you
trying to be humorous?"

"My mood is hardly one of amusement."

"Nor is mine."

Edward could see the censure in his mother's expression. For a long moment he stared at her,
trying to figure out a way to make her open her
mind to accepting the sincerity of his desire to
make things better between them.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room.
Edward continued to stare at his mother until a
wave of disappointment overcame him. She would
not relent.

"What is your opinion of the gas lights for the
manor house?" he finally asked, needing to say
something.

"They would be an abomination. Please leave
your experimenting to your factories and your
London home. At Farmington Manor we prefer
living with the traditional, time-honored conveniences." A breath puffed out of her chest, an odd
sound resembling a brief, bitter laugh. "Though I
know all too well that I cannot force you to consider my wishes. That approach will only result in
your rebellion."

The countess would not meet his gaze. She was
breathing hard, and they both knew her displeasure had nothing to do with the gas lighting.

"You judge me most unfairly, Madame. But alas,
that is a long-standing problem between us. There
will be no gas lights installed unless you change
your opinion on the matter." He turned toward the
door. "I will send Miss Montgomery to you straight
away so you may finish your letters."

As he walked away, Edward silently fumed and
struggled with the pain in his heart that had existed since that fateful day he had defied his parents, all
those years ago. He laid his hand on his chest and
tried to soothe the aching need he felt for forgiveness, for approval, for affection from his mother.

And he wondered gloomily if that need would
ever go away.

The predicted snow had not yet begun to fall several days later, but all the signs were present. The
thick cover of grey clouds, the biting cold air, the
smell of moisture permeating everything.

A hearty group of the younger houseguests gathered on the south terrace, wisps of breath visible in
the air as they chatted with each other. All expressed their desire to complete the chore of finding a suitable Christmas tree before the snow began
in earnest, though a few said they hoped it would
begin snowing while they were out in the woods.

Charlotte stood among the jovial group, her hands
placed firmly inside her new fur muff. Every now
and then her fingers would curl around the edges of
the heavy envelope that Jonathan had passed to her
beneath the breakfast table. The letter was intended
for Miss Montgomery, but as she anxiously searched
the faces of the crowd, Charlotte decided that since
the countess was not in attendance it would be unlikely that her companion would join them.

Charlotte discreetly transferred the precious letter to the pocket of her cloak, concluding it
would be safer stored inside her pocket. Hoping no
one noticed, she kept a pleasant smile on her face
and watched the earl work his way through the
crowd, kissing the gloved feminine hands held out
to him and greeting the gentlemen with a hearty
slap on the back. He moved with masculine grace
and authority, completely at ease among his peers,
confident and in control.

It was a marked contrast to his mood last night.
During dinner and especially afterward he had been
cordial, though distinctly remote, as if he were preoccupied with other, far more important matters. The
only time he seemed to exhibit any sort of emotion was
when he was near his mother; then his eyes seemed
to shoot daggers in the older woman's direction.

Not that Charlotte could blame him. The countess had been in a particularly grating mood, loudly
soliciting the earl's opinion and asking for his approval on any number of inconsequential issues.
Did he like the wines that had been chosen for the
various courses of the meal? Did her choice of musical selections that were played after dinner meet
with his approval? Was he pleased with the number
of desserts that were served with late-evening tea?

The countess's odd behavior had to be noticed
by the guests, but they all took their cue from the
earl, who gave no outward indication of his feelings
and tried to ignore it. Charlotte decided it must
have taken a great deal of self-control on his part.
She doubted very much she could have kept her
feelings and composure in check under the same
circumstances.

Perhaps it was better that the countess did not accompany them today as they searched for a tree,
even though it meant that Miss Montgomery
would miss all the fun.

"Are we ready to begin?" the earl asked.

Everyone gathered around him and the men immediately began a discussion about whether or not
they should load into carriages that would bring
them on a very indirect route to the edge of the
woods or if they should simply walk. Lord Haddon
cast a dubious eye at Lady Anne and Miss Dunaway,
both of whom were wearing dainty slippers, far
more suited to a drawing room than the woods,
and suggested they use the carriages.

Lady Haddon joined the discussion, suggesting
instead that the two women change into boots and
once that was accomplished they all set out on foot,
with the earl and his brother leading the way.

A few couples paired off, but for the most part
the men and women remained grouped within
their gender. It was then that Charlotte realized the
majority of the group was married or engaged.
Jonathan, Miss Dunaway, the earl and herself were
the only unattached members of the party.

They entered the woods two abreast and Charlotte was pleased to find herself walking beside
Lady Haddon. They chatted amicably, yet Charlotte's gaze kept drifting toward the men in front of
them, specifically the earl.

Lady Haddon followed her gaze. -f he earl is a remarkable man," Lady Haddon said under her breath.
"Everyone is constantly singing his praises. If you will
forgive my inquisitiveness, do you think there is any
hope that the two of you might make a match?"

Charlotte's mouth fell open with shock and she
shut it quickly. "'Tis highly unlikely."

"Pity," Lady Haddon said. "I always thought you
would make a good pair."

"Really?" Charlotte felt like sighing. If only it were
so simple.

"Oh, yes. You have similar interests and backgrounds, but more importantly, you have excellent
balance of temperament between you. Rather like
myself and Lord Haddon."

Charlotte's mouth curved into a crooked little
smile. "Why is it that all married people wish that
others would join them in their matrimonial state?"

"To share the joy?" Lady Haddon grinned. "I've
heard it said that there is someone for everyone,
and the older I have gotten the more I realized the
truth of that statement. I do so hope you will not
completely disregard the possibility of a future
match between yourself and the earl."

Charlotte merely answered with a vague smile,
neatly sidestepping the issue of her feelings on the
matter. But Lady Haddon's remarks had brought
the possibility out in the open, and once released,
it was difficult to ignore.

The desperate anger Charlotte had felt toward
him had long disappeared, replaced by a feeling of
respect and understanding. And despite all her best
efforts to ignore him, she had been unable to sustain
a distant indifference. Quite simply, she liked him.

Charlotte's eyes again drifted to the men leading
the way. She could see Jonathan waving his arms as
he talked, could hear the other male voices chime
into the conversation. Then she heard the earl's
distinctive laugh and the sound caught at her heart.

Was Lady Haddon right? Did her true fate, the
future she was meant to have, lie with the earl? It was
an intriguing notion that deserved consideration.

If she dared to think upon it.

"The best fir trees lie off in this direction," the
earl announced as he tucked a silver flagon into his
inside coat pocket. "Hopefully it won't take too long
to find several that we all agree are satisfactory."

"How many trees will we need, my lord?" Miss
Dunaway asked.

"There are always two small trees placed on linencovered tables flanking the entrance to the ballroom,"
the earl answered. "The children enjoy decorating
those with flowers and sweets and garlands of ribbon."

"The adults like doing that too," Lady Haddon
added, and everyone laughed.

There was much discussion and good-natured arguing as people began selecting different trees, each
person insisting that they had located the best choice.
The earl began systematically narrowing down the
choices until only Lord Haddon's and Miss Dunaway's trees remained.

"Christmas-tree hunting is hard work," Jonathan
declared. "I am very hungry. We must return to the
house posthaste and feast on the special delicacies
that Cook has prepared."

"Wait!" The earl lifted his arm. "We are not yet
done with our work for the morning. We still need
to find a tree for the drawing room. It will be the centerpiece of our Christmas decorations this year and
I have decided we shall try something a little more
daring."

"What are you saying, Edward?"Jonathan asked.

The earl had placed himself in front of an aged evergreen. It stood at least fifteen feet high with full
lush deep green branches that cascaded in a symmetrical pyramid. "Now, this is the perfect Christmas
tree."

"'Tis far too large," Lady Haddon said. "It will collapse the table."

"Or tip it over," her husband added.

"Or knock into the ceiling and damage the chandelier when it is brought into the house," Lady
Haddon said.

The earl shrugged.

"If you place the traditional small candles on the
branches and light them on Christmas Eve after services, you will likely set the manor house aflame,"
Miss Dunaway said with concern.

Jonathan circled the tree slowly, his necked craning skyward, a dubious expression on his face. "It is
far too large to be brought indoors, yet 'tis shaped
very prettily. Perhaps we can use the top section of
it for the drawing room?"

"No," the earl declared, waving his hand impatiently. "We shall use the entire tree. However, Lady
Haddon is correct. It is too large to sit atop a table.
Instead it shall stand on the floor."

"And promptly topple over," Lord Haddon said
with a laugh.

"Not if it is secured properly," the earl said
stubbornly.

"The countess will have a fit when she sees it,"
Lady Tredmont remarked in a loud voice. "I know
that I would certainly object to having such a messy,
inappropriate item indoors, dropping its needles
all over my priceless carpet."

The earl's eyes darkened. "'Tis my house, and if I choose to have a forest set up in the main ballroom to celebrate the holiday, that is my choice."

There was an edge to his voice that made Charlotte uneasy. Was this large tree a deliberate choice
to agitate his mother?

"It will require an entire hothouse of flowers and
miles of ribbon to decorate,"Jonathan pointed out.
"And how will we ever place any ornamentation on
the upper branches?"

"We will use a ladder," the earl declared, his voice
darkening to a timber that let everyone know he
would not be dissuaded. "I have had special glass
blown ornaments imported from Germany shipped
to the manor house along with a menagerie of
wood-carved animals. They will do very nicely as
decorations."

There were still -rumblings of disagreement, but
the earl ignored them all. He signaled for the two
burly male servants who had discreetly accompanied them to come forward. After a brief discussion
with the servants, the men first cut down the two
smaller trees. That chore took less than twenty minutes. When they were finished, they dragged the
trees from the woods and loaded them into a waiting cart. Most of the houseguests followed.