A Kiss At Christmastide: Regency Novella Page 8

  “I am afraid not, my lord.” She’d escaped telling him the details of her falling-out with Natalie, and she wanted to keep it that way. If Natalie chose to tell others, that was her right. But never would Pippa speak ill of a friend, no matter how hurt and abandoned she felt. “I will await my parents’ arrival.”

  It was an excuse—and he saw right through it, but thankfully, he did not press her.

  Even her parents likely expected her to journey to Lady Natalie’s party and would not be concerned if they arrived to a note to that effect.

  Still, they lingered…

  Pippa was not ready to walk out the door and possibly never see him again.

  Yet, she was unsure of his reason for remaining. The roads were clear, and a new distraction awaited him only a mile down the road.

  She’d met men like him before, always departing for another adventure before the one before had concluded. The allure of something new and exciting was something Pippa could understand, just not something she always needed for herself.

  People got hurt when one lived that way—thankfully, she had no attachment to Lucas. He could leave, and she would go on as she always had.

  If that were true, why was an empty hole forming in her middle? A sinking feeling that things would not, in fact, return to normal after his departure, but rather that a void would be left…emptiness not easily filled.

  “It has been enjoyable, my lord.”

  “For me as well, my lady.” With a small bow, Lucas turned a rakish grin in her direction, sending her heart fluttering. “Farewell, until we meet again.”

  And, as unexpectedly as he’d arrived in her life, Lucas, the Earl of Maddox, disappeared.

  He sauntered out the door without so much as a glance over his shoulder. However, he only made it a few feet before freezing in his tracks, his shoulders straightening as tension took over his entire body.

  Chapter 10

  Every inch of Lucas’s body was on high alert, taut and expectant, as he stared at the group who stood in Pippa’s drive. His parents, the Marquis and Marchioness of Bowmont were flanked by the Duke and Duchess of Sheridan, a young blonde woman at their side. Behind them, another carriage, the trunk loaded high with traveling luggage, stopped, and an elder couple disembarked to join the growing party.

  Lucas hadn’t arrived in a timely manner, so it appeared the party had gone in search of him—how would they know to find him here?

  “Good day, Father.” Lucas nodded in his father’s direction as the man brought his monocle to his eye to assure him that it was, indeed, his wayward rakehell of a son. “And to you, Mother.” He bowed to his mother, who stared down her nose at her remaining son, disappointment written on her face. It was the exact look he’d run from all these years—and it had the same effect on him now as it had when he was just a boy who’d lost his younger brother, his best friend.

  The stately pair had aged since he’d seen them last, the edges of his father’s neatly trimmed hair had greyed, and his mother did not stand nearly as tall as he remembered. Had it been the loss of not only one son, but two, that made the couple appear a decade older than they should? However, they were still the aloof and unaffected couple they’d been following Randolph’s passing. Lucas was not worthy to be in their presence, and their expressions conveyed their distaste to all who were watching.

  “Maddox,” his father said gruffly. “We worried you’d come to harm—possibly been set upon by highwaymen.”

  “I’m sorry for your misfortune, Father,” Lucas retorted, careful to keep his tone even and distant—after his father called him by his title, not his given name. “My carriage became stranded on the main road, and I sought shelter at Helton House until I could continue on.”

  “You were scheduled to arrive at the holiday party a full day before the storm hit.”

  “Yes, well, I found I had pressing matters to attend to, which delayed my departure from London by a day.” He didn’t owe them any explanation, though he felt compelled to give one with all the eyes on him.

  “Lucas,” Pippa called. He glanced over his shoulder, willing her to shut the door and forget about him before anyone set eyes on her. It was not to be. She walked out the open door and stood beside him, her smile infectious. “Mother, Father, you have arrived. I was so worried!”

  She was down the front steps and before her parents within an instant as they hugged and more greetings were shared.

  Not far from the trio, his parents, the duke, and duchess, and Lady Natalie—it could be no other—stood, stock-still, watching the overly affectionate family with disgust. Even his father’s lip curled slightly at the open display of love before them.

  “Lady Pippa is found in another compromising situation—alone with a gentleman for what…two full days?” the blonde woman whispered loud enough for all to hear. “Even after fleeing London, scandal finds her in the country.”

  “I am more concerned with the man,” the Duke of Sheridan said. “Carrying on thusly—very bad for my family name, my daughter, and my business.”

  “This does complicate things greatly,” the marchioness confirmed. “Delward, what do you propose is to happen?”

  “There is nothing compromising or concerning about any of this,” Lucas stated loudly, yet no one present acknowledged that he was even there for this exchange of words that greatly affected his current situation—and his future.

  Lucas’s father dropped his eyepiece and shook his head. The strikes against Lucas continued to mount.

  “They are still properly betrothed,” Lucas’s father chimed in. “The paperwork is drafted and signed by all who matter. The banns are to be read in a few weeks’ time. I suppose our agreed upon dowry settlement could be adjusted to compensate for our son’s lack of decorum.”

  “I am not—” he started to deny again.

  “Betrothed?” Pippa asked. Her faced drained of all color as she looked between Lucas, his father, and Lady Natalie—the girl’s smirk irritating Lucas greatly. “Is that true?”

  Lucas shook his head, his posture longing to deny the accusation, yet he would not verbally lie to Pippa. He’d known the reasoning behind his invitation to Lady Natalie’s country estate. His parents had found a suitable match for their scoundrel of a son—and, misguidedly, Lucas had contemplated the notion of reconciliation between him and his parents. He would never admit that aloud either, but there it was, true to his core.

  They did not want to know their surviving son. They had no intention of allowing him to be a part of their lives. No matter how earnestly Lucas had wanted that outcome.

  No, they were calling in their dues. Lucas was responsible for the death of his young brother, and his parents meant to have their retribution for that tragedy. But no amount of repentance would raise his level in their estimation.

  In a few years, they would demand something more of him, and more, and more, until Lucas did not recognize his life.

  “Pippa, I—”

  “You owe me no explanation,” she choked out, failing to hide her pain over his deception. “I am only sad you did not feel you could be truthful with me.”

  “If I could go back…” Lucas let his words trail off, unsure how to complete his thought.

  Up until the previous night, he’d been more than willing to give in to his parents’ demands—marry a girl he’d never met, gain his father yet another business ally, and continue on as he always had, his new wife set up in a procured townhouse and forgotten until the time came he inherited his father’s vast estate and the married pair moved into the Bowmont townhouse.

  “There is no need for all of that,” Pippa slashed her hand through the air, signaling it was time for him to stay silent—allowing her to depart with her pride intact.

  Everyone present stared at him. Pippa with tears in her eyes. Her parents showed concern for their daughter’s well-being, and the rest held their breaths for him to deny ruining Lady Pippa.

  For a brief moment, Lucas thought to con
firm their suspicions and detangle himself from any attachment to Lady Natalie—but that would mean tarnishing Pippa’s future, and likely, call for her father to demand Lucas wed Pippa immediately.

  He could not do such a thing to Pippa—he’d come to care for her, and saddling her with a rakehell for a husband was not a fate he’d ever wish upon her, even though he longed to make her his.

  “Lady Pippa—” Lucas needed to do the right thing…to be noble and ignore what the people might think of him because his concern for her and her future far outweighed others’ opinions of him. He’d never sought to ruin her, even if he could never have her for himself. “I’m here despite Pippa’s best efforts to get rid of me, though the storm did not allow it. She was forced to house my servants and me, and that should not result in any wrong impressions being attached to her person.”

  His words once again fell on deaf ears. Not a single person registered his defense of Lady Pippa, he wondered if they even noticed him slip and address her by her given name. He was a rake, a scoundrel, but never should his reputation result in her ruination.

  “Let us go inside. I wish you all a merry Christmastide celebration.” Pippa lifted her gaze, keeping her head high as she took hold of her mother’s arm and started toward Lucas. He hoped she’d stop, say something to him, invite him to meet her parents. However, the trio walked right past him without acknowledging his presence.

  The door shut soundly behind them with a solid thud.

  “Come, boy,” his father called, motioning Lucas to his side. “We have much to discuss and settle upon before anyone can enjoy the coming announcement.”

  Nothing about Christmastide. Not a word of spending their first holiday together in many years. Lucas almost felt ridiculous for the tiny gift he’d purchased for his mother before leaving London—a heart-shaped brooch.

  It had been a silly, impulsive purchase by a man who remembered the boy who’d adored his parents.

  Lucas hadn’t demanded their respect, nor asked for their love then—and he certainly did not want it now.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Lucas looked to the tightly closed door to Helton House.

  Pippa was upset and hurt. She had every right to feel that way. He’d been misleading her since his arrival and had never thought she’d find out about his parents’ plans for him, or figure he’d care if she did.

  But he cared. An emotion he’d felt long dead with Randolph.

  …his own bleeding heart surfaced.

  As his mother was more than willing to admit, Lucas did not deserve anything worth having in life. His misdeeds were too debilitating.

  Pippa would surely find happiness and a future if Lucas were not a part of her life. He knew he’d be required to marry Lady Natalie to make certain word did not spread of their association, as innocent as it had been. Which was extremely innocent compared to Lucas’s past transgressions.

  With Lady Natalie as his wife, her family would all be required to keep this scandal from spreading. No parent wants to see their daughter’s betrothed connected to the ruination of a young woman.

  His father had been correct in this one thing: it would be bad for business and all of their family names.

  Lucas didn’t care about his father’s business or his family name. He only cared that Pippa stayed above reproach and away from any hint of scandal.

  The time had finally come for Lucas to sacrifice himself, pay his dues for all that’d happened in his past—there were far worse things than being tied to a woman you did not love.

  Giving up a woman you could love was certainly one of those things.

  Chapter 11

  Pippa stood with her back against the front door and listened as the carriage pulled away. The horses’ hooves clopped against the cobblestoned drive as they departed. For the first time, she longed for the storm to continue raging outside to obscure the sound. Her eyes remained closed, though she felt her mother’s stare. She could not face either of her parents. They’d worked entirely too hard to overcome their own scandalous past for Pippa to bring gossip down on them once again.

  She’d done an inconceivable, horrendous thing. She’d been lost in the moment, and had allowed her good breeding to slip and her desires to take hold of her. Neither Cordelia nor her father, Gerald, were worried about any type of scandal. No, they were worried only about Pippa—they’d likely been interested to meet Lucas, witnessing the unspoken bond between their daughter and the Earl of Maddox.

  That had been made impossible after Pippa had slammed the door—not directly in his face, but to his back as he’d kept his eyes trained on Lady Natalie. Was it conceivable that she felt as secure in Lucas’s arms as Pippa had? Maybe both women were being taken advantage of by that rakehell.

  Pippa hadn’t any answers, and would likely never receive them.

  Lucas had left with his parents and the Sheridans in their carriage. He’d go on to enjoy the holiday at Natalie’s estate, and with luck—and a lowering of the agreed dowry—would be officially betrothed to Pippa’s former friend by the New Year.

  And Pippa would be alone in Somerset.

  Yet, it was a certainty she’d run across the pair if they were to wed. Lucas and Natalie would spend holidays and such with Natalie’s family in Somerset.

  The agony of the future to come was only overshadowed by the senseless heartbreak Pippa felt.

  Lucas had allowed Pippa to walk past and hadn’t so much as tried to stop her to explain—that only meant there was no reasonable explanation. Lucas had come into her home, knowing he was betrothed to Lady Natalie and had set out to deceive Pippa.

  It hurt.

  It wounded far worse than anything Natalie had done to end their long-standing friendship.

  Lucas had preyed on Pippa’s weaknesses and had brought about her irrevocable ruin. She’d thought he was held down by some burden too extreme, far too dark to allow her in. Somewhere deep inside, Pippa had thought she was helping Lucas, giving him a few short days of merriment after so many years separated from family during a season of great joy.

  That hadn’t been the case.

  Pippa’s hurt turned to anger, and she pushed away from the door, stalking toward the main staircase.

  “Pippy?” her mother called, using her childhood name. “Please, speak to your father and me. We are ever so worried—and more than a bit confused over what transpired outside.”

  She paused on the first landing and looked back toward her parents. They did not deserve her harsh treatment and cruel words. “Nothing untoward happened, I can assure you both of that. Not that it means much.” Pippa threw the words over her shoulder before starting up the stairs, once more.

  Lucas had been all but betrothed the entire time. All the mentions of Lady Natalie, Pippa and Natalie’s friendship, and the holiday party—not once had he shared who he truly was. They were likely already discussing all Pippa had shared about the end of her and Natalie’s friendship. Her former friend probably found joy in the telling of how Lucas and Pippa had been utterly embarrassed in front of a teeming room. The saddest part was that Pippa knew the sound of his snide chuckle—the sound he made when he heard something witty that poked fun at another. She hadn’t heard it since his first moments in her home, but Pippa would never forget the sound.

  Mainly because there was a lonesome sadness to it that hinted, once again, at a wound—almost as if he weren’t making light of the jest spoken but needing an outlet for his pent-up hurt and anger.

  At first, Pippa had mistaken his conduct for a cross-personality, but she no longer felt that was at the core of his drastic shifts in character.

  “Pippy!” her father shouted as she stomped up the stairs. “Do come back here this instant and explain this entire mess.”

  Pippa didn’t stop. She didn’t look over her shoulder or answer his calls. Without saying the words, her father was blaming her for the scene outside, the uncomfortable debacle between her family and Natalie’s. But it wasn’t her fault. The culpa
bility most definitely lay at Lucas’s feet, not hers.

  Her anger was swiftly intensifying to fury—and she would prefer her parents not witness her breakdown, for she knew that was to come. How could it not follow?

  And it was all for a man she hadn’t wanted in her home to begin with. She should have sent him to the stables for shelter until the storm passed. It was more than he deserved.

  Pippa had half a mind to wish she’d have made him return to his carriage and refused him altogether; yet, that would be wishing certain ill will on another.

  That scoundrel of a man should be thankful she was not a spiteful woman.

  She wanted to throw something, slam the wall—scream in a fit of rage, but instead, her shoulders shook with her weakness…her bleeding heart, as he’d called it.

  What right did she have to be infuriated in the first place?

  Lucas had made no promises to her. They had shared only a kiss, nothing more. Unless you counted his hands on her and his firmness pressed to her most tender spot. Could actions be taken as a promise—an agreement of something further?

  They’d never spoken of anything past last night. He’d made no mention of a future, and neither did she know anything about his past.

  The truth was that he hadn’t thought enough of Pippa to share his connection with Lady Natalie.

  Pippa was being irrational. Her expectations and feelings were misguided, at best. The idea that a genuine affection had developed between them in such a short time was childish. Warm fondness was based on open knowledge between two people. Sharing. In no way had she and Lucas had any sort of open communication or understanding.

  Her lips tingled at the thought of his mouth on hers—his hands circling her waist to hold her tight. She shook her head, dispelling the thought. There were no feelings on his side, he was betrothed to another. A man promised to wed does not so easily hold another woman, should not crave her lips nor press his body against hers in need.