Page 18 of A Scandal Before Christmas
Anne frowned. “You can’t mean to go to him, milady. You might be seen… and your reputation would be ruined.”
Lauren’s lips pressed together. She’d not made up her mind when it came to Theodore Hawthorne. She only knew an odd restlessness flowed through her blood, irritating her with its presence. It calmed when the earl was around, but that in itself was maddening because his very appearance agitated her senses. She wanted to both slap him and kiss him, and she hated herself for the conflict.
“I don’t know what I mean to do. But when I decide, will you help me?” Lauren caught Anne’s hand, holding it against her shoulder, trapping the young woman’s eyes in the mirror’s reflection. “When the time comes, Anne, will you do as I ask? Please. As my friend, and not as my employee. In return, I vow I will help you and Ollie in any way necessary. If you wish to marry or acquire your own cottage, I can—”
Anne laughed softly, patting Lauren’s hand with her own. “Here now, milady. There’s no need for all that. Of course, I will help you. I always will. It doesn’t matter much what you might do for me, or for Ollie. I’ll do it because you are a kind, decent person. You deserve happiness, milady, and if it is with Lord Hawthorne, all the better. That man is right bonny to look at.”
Chapter 10
Theodore spent yet another restless night tormented by visions of his skittish fiancée’.
For Christ’s sake, he’d not had a decent night’s sleep since the day he’d laid eyes on the little vixen he’d soon claim for a wife. While engaged, he’d fantasized of the day she would become his. During their estrangement, he’d dreamed and plotted on winning her back. Now he faced the difficult challenge of making it happen.
It all culminated in what could only be described as agitated slumber.
Why Lauren allowed him those liberties in the alcove was a mystery he could not unravel. How her flesh possessed a flavor sweeter than sugar was even more mystifying. The urge to sink to his knees, lift her skirts, and place his mouth between her thighs had nearly overwhelmed him. He wanted the taste of her in his mouth, on his tongue, in his blood. Only the knowledge he might frighten her with such boldness kept him from plundering her treasures like a starving pirate long lost at sea.
It was nearly noon before Theodore emerged from his room, exhausted and irritable from lack of sleep. Making his way downstairs, he yawned, cursing for not having his valet ring for more coffee. Another cup or two might have erased his ill mood.
Near the rear of the manor home was the largest drawing room. It overlooked the west gardens, and for this morning, it was the gathering spot for Lady Penelope and the other ladies. Their laughter and feminine voices drew Theodore like a moth to flame, for he knew with a certainty he’d find his prey among the lovely flowers assembled there.
Peeking around the door jamb, he saw Penelope presiding over several small tables around which ladies congregated. They were studiously engaged in the construction of delicate cones made from swatches of wallpaper. His gaze skipped over the women until he located the one he sought.
The most gorgeous rose in the garden.
“She is stunning,” George Settleton said from just behind him.
Theodore gave Lauren a lingering glance then turned to his host. “That she is. As is your own lovely wife.”
George grinned and clapped a hand on Theodore’s shoulder, drawing him away from the door. “Both are beautiful and too damn smart for their own good. A word of warning, Hawthorne, you may notice decorations have been depleted in certain areas of the manor.”
Theodore tilted his head, genuinely confused. “What the devil are you talking about?”
“The, ah, kissing balls you talked Penelope into hanging everywhere. I know she was to keep your arrangement a secret; however, I insisted she tell me what the hell was going on. The blasted stuff is all over the place.”
Shoulders lifting in a shrug, Theodore glanced around the area where they stood. The drawing room’s doorway was missing a bough, but the ceiling was sufficiently draped and decorated much like the west corridor. “I think it makes the place rather festive.”
“I believe Lauren is aware of your subterfuge.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She may be removing the decorations on her own. Just wanted you to be aware.” Laughter edged George’s words.
“I appreciate it, Settleton.” Theodore rubbed his chin. The little minx. He should have known she might discover his ploy and take active measures to counteract it. He couldn’t help the tiny smile that lifted his lips.
“Lady Lauren is certainly a headstrong and intelligent young lady. A worthy opponent for any man brave enough to match wits against. No doubt you are up for the task, Hawthorne.”
“I hope to do more than match wits. My goal is to regain her heart, if the truth be known. If it requires every bit of mistletoe in your forests to accomplish that, then that is how it must be.”
* * *
The weather turned rather gloomy,with snow flurries darkening the skies by mid-afternoon. No one dared venture outside, and guests were finding ways to occupy themselves within the great house.
Several ladies gathered in the South Parlor with their sewing, while some couples took over the library for a variety of games suitable for mixed company. Seeking her out, Theodore was immensely glad Lauren had no interest in playing Blindman’s Bluff. Or even worse, charades.
Instead, he found her in the main salon. Thankfully, she was alone, admiring the paper cones crafted the day before and placed strategically on the Christmas tree’s branches. It seemed she was rearranging them, tucking them deeper within the tree itself and fluffing the pine needles.
With her back turned, Theodore admired the loveliness of her form—the delicate shape of her shoulders, the tiny indentation of her waist, and the graceful flare of her hips. Her heavy and demure coil of hair rested at the nape of her neck, and within him came the burning desire to see her unbound and naked in his bed. He could not deny he wished to see her heart unfettered as well, laid bare before him.
