Page 44 of A Naughty Proposal for His Winter Countess
Brushing a tuft of light-brown hair out of her eyes, Lily said, while peeling off her gloves. “Where else would I be? I felt so ashamed that I’ve left you all winter. Mama nearly drove me to Bedlam, with Lord this and Lord that. None of which, mind you, were the sharpest swords in the armory. At best, they were dulled daggers.”
Giggling, Harriet guided her friend over to her sofa, “Please, sit. Tell me, what were your travels like?”
“In a moment,” Lily said. “I want to hear about you first. I’m told you’re engaged? Who is this Earl, and you do know what will happen if he doesn’t meet my standards?”
“Oh, I am aware,” Harriet said. “But let me get us some tea first.”
After ringing for tea, Harriet went back to Lily’s side and took her hand. For the first time since she had brokered the deal with Daniel—or rather, how he had extorted her into it, by withholding Lily’s letter—Harriet found herself nervous speaking about him.
“He’s a lovely man, Lily, kind, gracious, and I think he’s the best, but there’s something about him. His…erm—”
“Oh goodness no,” Lily huffed, “Don’t tell me he’s a scarred man with a beastly nose and hobbled leg.”
“No!” Harriet exclaimed with a laugh. “He’s a dashing fellow, handsome enough to be immortalized in oils, but he and his family went through some dreadful times and got splintered over it. I don’t think he has rebounded from either.”
The tea and cakes came in, and after the maid curtsied out, Lily took her cup. “Now, tell me all.”
Carefully omitting Daniel's agreement to teach her the art of seduction, she told Lily about his mother’s indiscretion and his father’s death.
Lily’s cup stopped at her lips, “He…drank himself to death?”
“Yes,” Harriet replied, replacing her cup on the saucer. She couldn’t drink anymore as her stomach felt upset. She took a deep breath, “And that’s not the worst of it. He was engaged once…and his intended ran off the day of the wedding, leaving him at the altar in shame.”
Lily’s face paled, “Zounds.”
Dropping her gaze to her lap, “He’s still a decent man, Lily.”
A warm hand rested on Harriet’s, “So, why are you so downtrodden? It seems to me that you have the best match.”
“I know,” Harriet replied as she gazed at their hands. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she recalled the pure happiness and freedom she had felt a day ago at the Marquess’ house, how Daniel had lifted and swung her.
Just like the ball of ice she had lobbied at Daniel’s back, it hit her. Could she be developing real feelings for him;romanticfeelings that had no part in theirfriendlyagreement?
“Tis just…it’s only been a week and a day. I shouldn’t be having these emotions for him,” Harriet replied.
“That is a short time,” Lily replied, as she went back to her tea. “Mayhap, it’s a gift from the benevolent Christmas spirit. We have to agree; it's about time something good has come your way.”
A wan smile crossed Harriet’s face while guilt began needling her from the inside. In her ignorance, Lily looked so happy for her. Perhaps it had been best for that letter to be in Daniel’s possession. What would Lily be thinking of her now, if she had read it?
Have you thought about how one night of daring could affect the rest of your life? The shame it would bring on your family, by extension?
Weakly, Harriet reached for her cooled tea. “If that’s the case, I wish it had given me a warning. You know I don’t like surprises.”
Lily’s laugh did nothing to settle the disquiet in Harriet’s soul.
Chapter Fourteen
The oil in his lamp was burning low in Daniel’s study; it did not matter as the first weak rays of dawn came through the windows. Sleep had eluded him last night, so, he had channeled his prowess into trying to craft the letter to his mother.
After piecing the letter little by little, he felt satisfied, that most of it was finished. He only needed the closure, but no matter how he tried, nothing—yours truly, warmest regards, my best—they all felt hypocritical as his mother was a stranger to him.
He opted to leave the end open for Harriet’s addition, and if she didn’t have anything to add, he would just put his signature.
His valet jerked at the study’s doorway, “M…My Lord?”
“Yes, Russel?”
“Pardon me, My Lord, I hadn’t expected to see you. I’ve come to send off those letters to your steward,” Russel said. “I’ll come back if—”
