A Christmas Scandal (23 page)

“What?” she asked, giggling because he was nuzzling her.

“Nothin’, darlin’. Wishin’ don’t mean shit.”

“Carson!”

“Well, it’s true.” He kissed her then, holding her against him in an almost desperate way, and if Amelia had any doubts that he loved her, they were assuaged at that moment.

Amelia chose to think of that, rather than the almost formal good-byes they’d had at the door. And when he had disappeared from view down that long, tree-lined road that led to Meremont, Amelia threw herself into her brother’s arms and sobbed.

“I already miss him,” she said, making Edward laugh. She glared at him. “I would never laugh at you if you had a broken heart.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that you can hardly miss a man who most likely is still on our property.”

“It’s just that I won’t see him for six months,” she wailed.

Edward held his little sister, felt her body shake, felt her tears seep through his shirt, and wondered just how devastated she was going to be when Kitteridge did not send for her. Perhaps he was wrong about the man. Why would he request his sister’s hand in marriage if he had no intention of marrying her? It didn’t make sense. And yet he simply could not bring himself to believe he’d be putting Amelia on a steamship come June. Maybe he didn’t want to believe it.

“I’m going to write to him right now,” Amelia said fiercely, and Edward laughed again. This time, his sister joined him.

“I know I’m being silly, but I don’t care. Just think how happy he’ll be when he returns to the ranch and finds a letter there waiting for him.”

Then his sister, her mercurial mood swinging back like a great pendulum to the side of happiness, hurried from the room to find her writing instruments.

The season wouldn’t begin in earnest until after Easter, which came April 2. That gave him weeks and weeks to knock some sense into his sister’s head. If she was anything like him when it came to love, he should admit he’d taken on an impossible task. For once the Hollings heart was given, it was almost impossible for it to be taken back.

Maggie was greeted at Bellewood like the prodigal daughter returning after a lengthy absence. When she’d left, she’d given little thought to the people she’d left behind and how they would worry about her. She’d been in such a state of despair and uncertainty, it was truly the first time in her life she’d acted so completely selfishly. And Maggie refused to feel one bit of guilt.

Her mother, looking younger and fresher than she had in months, embraced her warmly, tears streaming down her face. Then she immediately launched into a fierce talk about how worried everyone had been, especially after it was discovered that the ship she’d been on had sunk.

“And not a word from you. Not one word,” her mother said, then pulled her daughter in for yet another hug. Maggie gave the footman who was standing nearby an embarrassed smile.

“I’m sorry, Mama. You have every right to be angry with me.”

Harriet’s face went from frown to beaming smile. “Oh, Maggie, we’ve received the most wonderful news.” Harriet, as if suddenly aware they were standing in the public part of the palace, linked arms with her daughter and led her to their private quarters. “I’ll let you visit with Her Grace in a moment, but I’d like to speak to you first.”

“Oh?”

Once they were in their rooms, Harriet turned to Maggie, fairly brimming with happiness. “Your father is to be set free in August. His letter arrived the day before Christmas, can you believe it? It was the best gift that man has ever given me.”

Maggie smiled, so happy to see her mother acting more like herself. “I know,” she said. “I saw Papa.”

“How was he?” Harriet asked, as if afraid to hear the answer.

“Actually, quite well. He’s lost weight, but not too much. The prison is awful, but he’s with men who are like him. No hardened criminals. The guards seemed polite and even kind. One plays chess with Papa every day. He told me to tell you he misses you.”

“Your poor father,” Harriet said, her eyes filling with tears once again. “He’ll never be the same.”

“None of us will. And perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.”

The two women sat down together on the sofa of their shared sitting room. “You never told me why you had to leave.”

“No, I didn’t,” Maggie said without embellishment.

“I wish you would.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Harriet gave her daughter a look of exasperation. “Maggie, you haven’t been yourself for weeks. And now…” Her mother studied her so closely, Maggie began to feel self-conscious. “What happened?”

“I think when that ship sank, I realized that life was very precious. Of course I already knew it was, but there is something so jarringly eye-opening about facing death. I simply let everything go.”

“Let what go?”

Maggie shrugged. It was difficult for herself to wrap her mind around how different she felt, and far more difficult to explain to her mother. She could not tell her about Charles Barnes; it would only hurt her mother to know such a sordid thing. “I let go of all my troubles,” she said finally. “I think I got a little lost and now here I am.”

“I do believe the same thing happened to me. What doesn’t kill you—”

“Makes you stronger,” Maggie finished, laughing. “I never realized how true that statement was. Now, tell me everything that’s been happening here”

Harriet let her daughter change the subject, and in quick measure Maggie was brought up to date. Bellewood had been quiet over the Christmas holidays, the usual visits and dinners canceled because of the new baby. “It was lovely,” Harriet said. “But you were missed. And it’s been so quiet here, with Lady Amelia and Lord Hollings gone as well. I did hope they’d come for the New Year, but it looks as though we won’t be seeing them until we all go to Town. Oh, goodness, you must not know about the engagement.”

“Not Amelia and Mr. Kitteridge.”

Harriet nodded. “How could Lord Hollings have allowed such a thing?”

“That’s what we’ve been asking ourselves. I could not think of a less fortunate marriage for that lovely girl.”

Maggie shook her head. “No doubt he completely charmed her. And Lord Hollings,” she added skeptically. “Honestly, what do we really know of the man? I never heard of him until I came here. For all we know, he’s simply an actor with an unusual show. Unless…”

“Unless?”

Maggie blushed. “Are they to be married, um, quickly?”

“Oh, no. And shame on you for thinking such a thing. According to Amelia’s letter—that one does like to write—he’s gone back to Texas and she’s supposed to follow him in June.”

“But the season is hardly started by then.”

“Apparently, we’re all going to Town immediately after Easter. That will give us all two months to enjoy the season.”

“There isn’t much point to the season if Amelia is already engaged,” Maggie grumbled, still trying to figure out how Kitteridge could have managed to convince Lord Hollings he would be a fit husband.

“Apparently, Lord Hollings is adamant about her having her season. Adamant,” her mother said pointedly.

“You think he’s trying to dissuade Amelia from marrying Kitteridge?”

“That would be my guess. After all, what brother in his right mind would foist a character like Kitteridge on his sister?”

Maggie found the entire thing rather baffling. “I suppose we’ll find out in April.”

“And speaking of the season.”

Maggie resisted the urge to run from the room. She knew that look in her mother’s eyes, for she’d seen it every year at least once since her coming-out when she was eighteen. “Yes?” she asked, bracing herself.

“I was simply wondering what our plans are, now that you’ve thrown away not one, but two chances at a good marriage.”

“Isn’t it obvious, Mama? I plan to win Lord Hollings’s heart once and for all.”

Elizabeth looked down at her sleeping baby wondering how on earth she’d done such a wonderful thing as giving birth to this bit of perfection. Rand came up behind her, putting his arms around a waist that was already beginning to slim.

“He’s always sleeping,” he said.

Elizabeth looked at him as if he were quite insane. “He’s wide awake at two o’clock in the morning,” she pointed out.

“I told you to get a wet nurse if you wanted.”

Elizabeth looked down at her little boy and shook her head. “I really don’t mind.”

Both Graces turned at the sound of a quiet knock on the nursery door.

“Maggie!” Elizabeth said, rushing over to her friend. “Oh, it’s so good to see you. You must tell me everything, and not leave out a single detail. I was worried sick about you. And then Lord Hollings telephoned to ask what ship you were on and that’s when I saw the article in the
Times
that the ship had sunk. Of course by then Lord Hollings already had word that everyone had survived. And it’s a good thing, too, because now that you’re here I quite want to thrash you for making us all so worried.”

Maggie laughed. “That’s about what my mother had to say as well. And I am sorry. I simply had other things on my mind.”

Elizabeth looked up at her husband, who was watching the two women with an indulgent look on his face. “Rand, might Maggie and I catch up without you hovering about?”

“Was I hovering?” he asked, raising one brow.

“Yes. Now shoo.”

Rand gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and left the room. “So. Are the authorities after you?”

“No. At least not for murder. Perhaps assault.”

Elizabeth widened her eyes and grinned. “What did you do to him?”

“I punched him in his great soft belly. I must say it felt rather good.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. After the ship sank, I lost any desire to kill him,” Maggie said, as casually as if she’d been talking about a hat she’d decided not to buy. “I don’t know if I could have done it, but I did buy a pistol in Liverpool. It sank with the ship.”

Elizabeth looked at her friend in disbelief. She was being so completely nonchalant about relating her plans to commit murder. “What did he say?”

Maggie walked over to the ornate bassinette where Henry lay sleeping, his sweet mouth making little sucking noises. “He’s beautiful, Elizabeth,” she said, her eyes growing misty.

“Oh, bother that. Tell me what happened with Barnes.”

Maggie turned to Elizabeth in surprise. “He was obnoxious. I told him what I thought of him, and then I punched him. That’s all there really was to it. And I visited my father on Christmas Day. That was wonderful.”

Maggie filled Elizabeth in on the visit with her father, giving her details about the prison she couldn’t bring herself to tell her mother.

Elizabeth listened as her friend told her various stories of her adventure, the ship’s sinking, her taking a train from New Bedford to New York all by herself. And during their visit, something occurred to Elizabeth. Maggie had changed. She was more like her old self yet more confident, as if she’d lived ten years in the last month.

“I didn’t realize how much you were suffering until now,” Elizabeth said, grasping her friend’s hand. “You hide it so well. Or rather you try to.”

“I quite literally was falling apart,” Maggie said. “I feel as if the black cloud that was following me about is gone. I didn’t know how awful I felt until I felt normal. I have you to thank. I never would have gone to New York if you hadn’t pushed me.”

Elizabeth look horrified. “Please don’t blame me.”

“It’s not blame, it’s giving you credit.” Maggie took a bracing breath.

“Christmas must have been terribly lonely. Here I was with Rand and a new baby, probably happier than I’ve ever been, but I couldn’t help thinking about you alone and likely frightened in New York.”

“I’ve never had a more wonderful Christmas,” Maggie said, surprising Elizabeth. “I’d just survived a horrible ordeal, punched a man I loathed in the gut, and found out my father was going to be released early. It was the first time in a long while I felt completely at peace. For a long while now, I’ve thought God was conspiring against me and my family. But this Christmas, it was as if He was saying, ‘See? Now you appreciate what I’ve given you.’ It was a wonderful gift.”

Elizabeth’s eyes misted over, amazed at her friend’s resilience.

“Now I need you to help me with something else,” Maggie said with a mischievous smile.

“Anything.”

“I need to win Lord Hollings back. Do you think it’s possible?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “To propose to a girl and have her reject you. I don’t know how a man like Edward can get over that.” Seeing Maggie’s expression, Elizabeth said, “I want to be honest with you.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking down at her hands. When she looked up, she had a sparkle in her eye. “Oh, pish. I’ll have that man wrapped around my little finger in a week. You’ll see.”

“Do you really think so?”

“He doesn’t have a chance.”

Edward knew the minute he saw her standing outside his Hanover Square town house that he didn’t have a chance in hell. He hadn’t seen her in four months and in that time, she’d gotten even more beautiful. Damnation.

Every day, he told himself he was over her. He’d stopped carrying around the book like a lovesick puppy. He hadn’t even opened that drawer where her letters lay in weeks. He hadn’t thrown those letters away, that was true, but he sometimes went days without even the temptation to look at them, touch them.

Of course, he knew she was back in England, for she’d written to his sister. She hadn’t written to him, which was fine. Why should she? Amelia had shared the letters, of course, the delightfully detailed missives that had his sister in stitches over her description of the shipwreck, which must have been harrowing. In her letter, she made it sound more like a great adventure than a near tragedy.

He stood in his library on the second floor looking down at her and felt his entire body react to her mere presence. She wore a large hat with an ostrich plumb curving back that hid all of her face but the fine line of her jaw. When she looked up at the town house, he saw her face and damned if his heart didn’t start beating painfully in his chest. She looked…happy and for some reason that made his heart ache even more. Couldn’t she be suffering just a bit of what he felt? What was it about her that left him so completely unmanned?

Other than paying for a hotel for his sister and the Pierces to stay in for the duration of the season, he didn’t know how to avoid having them in his home. When he’d suggested such a thing to his sister, she’d acted baffled.

“Why would we stay in a hotel when we have more than enough room here?” she’d asked. “The only people who stay in hotels are the ones who cannot afford a house in Town.”

And because he had no good answer, he was standing on his second floor gazing down at Maggie with a yearning that bordered on obsession.

“They’re here,” Amelia said, rushing into the room and grabbing her brother’s arm. “Come on, Edward.” She tugged on him until he walked with her, feeling like a man headed to the hangman. “Honestly, it won’t be that tedious bringing us about. You might think we were dragging you to a funeral for all the enthusiasm you’re showing. We don’t want to hurt their feelings.”

“Since when are you looking forward to the season? All you’ve done for the past three months is complain incessantly that I’ve forced you to stay here when you could be with Kitteridge. By the way, has he written to you lately?”

“You know how long the post takes from the States, never mind Texas. He’s probably written a dozen times and I just haven’t received the letters. And the one letter I have received was wonderful.”

Edward grunted in response. His sister had read the letter to him, and he nearly laughed aloud at the pap it contained.

“And don’t change the subject. The only reason you are dreading the season is that you’re still in love with Miss Pierce.”

He stopped dead.

“You are mistaken,” he said in a deceivingly calm tone.

“For goodness’ sake, Edward, I’m not as stupid as you seem to think I am. It’s obvious to me that you love her. I think being in love gives one greater insight into others. I cannot think of any other reason why you have so suddenly become reasonable about Carson. Clearly you are in love.”

“If you say one more word about love, I shall tell the Pierces to turn around at this moment and return to Bellewood.”

Amelia tsked. “So dramatic. And you’ll do no such thing.”

“When did you become so annoying?” he asked.

His sister laughed. “I’ve been annoying you since I learned to talk. You know that.”

“All too well,” he grumbled as they began down the stairs.

By the time they made it to the ground floor, Maggie and her mother were handing off their coats, gloves, and hats to his butler, Wilson.

Edward had expected Maggie to be a bit reserved in her greeting. After all, the last time they had seen each other, she’d been about to leave after rejecting his marriage proposal. He should have expected her to act completely the opposite of what a normal girl would act.

“Amelia, Lord Hollings. It’s so good to see you both,” Maggie said, rushing over to give Amelia a hug. Then she turned to Edward and grasped his hands. “You look wonderful, Edward,” she said, smiling up at him.

He didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to smile back at her, wanted to drop her hands in disgust. But he made the mistake of meeting her eyes, and it was like a blow to the gut. She was smiling, as he had seen her do a hundred times since she’d arrived in England, but this time was different. He couldn’t say what it was, but it was the kind of smile that made men want to climb the highest mountain just to get a glimpse of it. It was as if her smile had been broken and was now fixed.

“I cannot wait for the season to begin. I’m so excited, I feel like a girl at her first coming-out. Amelia!” She turned to his sister. “Wait until you see the dresses I’ve had remade from Elizabeth’s old gowns. I cannot wait until I can wear them. And you, Edward, must promise me at least one dance for every ball we attend.”

It would have been extremely impolite to publicly decline such an offer, so Edward was forced to nod in agreement.

“I’m so glad to be back in London. Elizabeth has secured several invitations for me already. Of course I wouldn’t think of attending anything without you, Amelia. I’d be too lost. And I need you to help me navigate through this world of yours.”

Edward narrowed his eyes. This was the Maggie he remembered, that effervescent chatterbox that had captured his heart. Something had happened in the past few months that had changed her; he prayed fervently it wasn’t another man, for he didn’t know if he could take another such blow.

“Only if you promise to tell me everything you know about Texas.”

Maggie laughed. “I fear I know far more about British society than I do about Texas. Why, that feels like a foreign country to me.” Maggie and her mother turned at a commotion at the door. “Our bags have arrived.”

“Wilson, could you please show the ladies to their rooms.”

It was on the tip of Edward’s tongue to ask this vivacious woman standing in front of him if she was aware she had a twin living hereabouts, and one that wasn’t nearly as charming. He studied her, looked for something that told him she was putting on an act, but saw nothing but the girl he’d fallen in love with. And all he could think was
No wonder I fell for her. No wonder.
And then, tumbling after that thought was the real bafflement that she’d felt none of the reluctance or awkwardness that he had. Because, he had to admit, he still had feelings for her and perhaps she had none. Perhaps she felt as if she were seeing an old friend after a long separation, and there he’d been foolishly trying to calm his beating heart, to stop himself from falling to his knees.

“How is your little cousin, Lord Hollings?” Maggie asked. “I hope she is doing better.”

“Lady Matilda has brought the entire brood to Scarborough to the spa there. Janice’s doctor believes the mineral waters there may do her good.”

“And you doubt that?”

“She vomits nearly every time she eats. But not every time. I think it’s more likely she keeps eating something that disagrees with her. Matilda agrees, but she hasn’t discovered what that something is. Regardless, the resort is lovely and the children should enjoy themselves.”

“Mama,” Maggie said, turning to Harriet, “perhaps before you return to New York we can visit Scarborough. Or perhaps Brighton. I’ve heard that’s very nice as well.”

“Oh, no, Miss Pierce. It’s very passé. Quite the place for the middle class nowadays,” Amelia said.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to go there,” Maggie said in mock horror.

As the women discussed where they would visit, and whether it was worth it to travel to Italy for the thermal baths there, Edward became rather stuck on a single sentence Maggie had uttered, seemingly without thinking. She’d said to her mother “before
you
return to New York” not “before
we
return to New York.” What did that mean? Surely she had not secured yet another fiancé since her return to England. He’d pictured her safely ensconced at Bellewood cooing over the duchess’s newborn, not gallivanting about the countryside batting her eyes at the gentry. Before he could ask what she’d meant, the two women departed, following Wilson to their rooms.

“You are frowning again, Edward,” Amelia said.

“Am I?”

“It is a very unfortunate look for you. Otherwise you are quite handsome.”

“Thank you,” he said dryly, as if being handsome was the last on his list of important things.

That night at dinner, Maggie entertained them all with her harrowing stories of the shipwreck, though she gave no clue at all as to what had brought her to the States in the first place. It seemed a glaring omission, one they seemed, by tacit agreement, not to broach. Edward decided to be a cad and ask her point-blank.

“Miss Pierce, what brought you to New York in the first place? You never did say.”

Maggie’s expression was almost comical. It seemed to Edward to be a logical enough question, but one might have thought he’d just asked her what kind of underclothes she was wearing. Instead of answering him, she looked to her mother, who gave her daughter a pained look.

“I don’t see the point in hiding it any longer,” Maggie said.

“Hiding what?” Amelia said, leaning forward as if she sensed a great secret were about to be imparted.

Maggie’s mother gave an imperceptible nod, apparently giving her permission.

“I went to visit my father,” Maggie said, and winked at her mother.

“Oh?” Her bland answer made him even more confused.

“He’s in prison. He’s been in prison since last August, right about the time His Grace issued the invitation for us to visit.”

“Prison!” Amelia gasped, delighted that the secret was so exciting. “Did he murder someone?”

Maggie laughed. “It’s not quite as sordid as all that. He embezzled money from his friends. It was all very humiliating for the entire family. He was supposed to be imprisoned for five years, but he’s being released in August. I don’t see the point in hiding it anymore.”

“It’s still not something we like to talk about,” Harriet interjected, apparently displeased with her daughter’s forthrightness.

“Of course not,” Edward said, frowning. This explained a great deal, he realized. It must have been the reason Maggie seemed a bit changed when he saw her. Now he understood why she was wearing remade dresses, why she’d seemed in such a hurry to get married…

Only not to him.

His face flushed with humiliation and he took a long drink of his wine, holding up his empty glass to the footman for a refill. God, he was such a fool.

“We were left quite destitute,” Maggie said lightly. “We truly have only the clothes on our backs.” She said it as if it were of no consequence. Or as if it were something she’d already resolved by securing a new fiancé.
That
simply did not bear thinking about.

“You certainly seem to be in high spirits considering,” Edward pointed out. “Certainly you can’t be that destitute if you are planning trips to Scarborough or Italy.”

Maggie simply beamed him a smile. “I think we’ll manage, at least I hope so,” she said vaguely.

But her mother blurted, “My Maggie’s getting married.”

“Mother! Nothing is finalized yet. You know that. You shouldn’t have said anything,” Maggie said, her tone livid.

Harriet appeared to be trying not to laugh, so giddy was she over the prospects of her daughter’s upcoming nuptials. She was quite unaware of the fury in her daughter’s eyes.

“Married! Oh, how wonderful,” Amelia gushed. Then she quickly cast her brother a look and instantly sobered, which Edward found exceedingly annoying. He did not like to be pitied by his little sister. “I am very happy for you,” she added in a much more subdued tone. “Who is the gentleman?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. And neither is my mother,” Maggie said pointedly.

Edward lifted his glass in a toast. “Congratulations, Miss Pierce.” It was happening all over again, that sick feeling of falling, of his heart being trampled on. Again.

Maggie looked at Edward and wanted to murder her mother. Though she hadn’t been drinking lately, this night Harriet had had three glasses of wine and they’d obviously gone straight to her head. Imagine announcing Maggie was getting married to the very man she planned to wed. Now Edward believed her to be engaged to another man and really, other than proposing to him on the spot, there was nothing she could do. She hadn’t had a chance to truly gauge whether or not he still loved her.

“No banns have been read,” she said sickly. “This really is all quite premature.”

“But you have an understanding?” Amelia asked, looking confused.

“Most definitely,” Harriet gushed.

“Not yet,” Maggie said at the same time. Then, “Mother, please.”

Harriet looked quite happy with herself. “Would you like a hint?” she asked.

Oh, goodness, Maggie thought, perhaps her mother had more than the three glasses she’d seen her drink. “I think my mother needs to…go,” Maggie said, standing abruptly and grabbing her mother’s arm.

“Maggie, let go of me,” Harriet said crossly.

“Let her have her fun,” Edward said, his tone hard. Maggie stopped and gave Edward a look that was meant to tell him to leave off.

“See?” Harriet said, pulling her arm away from her daughter. “They don’t mind a bit of fun. You are being a very poor sport, Margaret.”

“Edward, perhaps—” Amelia started, but was immediately interrupted by her brother.

“I enjoy games. Do give us a hint, Mrs. Pierce.”

“Mother,” Maggie pleaded, on the verge of tears.

Finally, Harriet recognized the stress she was causing her daughter. “The only hint I’ll give you—”

“Mother,
please.”

Harriet smiled triumphantly. “—is that he is taller than I.”

There was complete silence in the room for two beats; then Maggie laughed, so completely relieved that her mother hadn’t exposed her she nearly collapsed. She would put off murdering her for later.