Page 17 of A Lady's Christmas
“I know. I just don’t want to talk to you about my feelings, Theo.” Despite wanting to run as fast as she can back to the house, her feet remain rooted to the snowy path.
A long sigh causes his shoulders to slump. “I wish you would reconsider leaving Crestworth. Give me time to show you I’m not the monster you think I am.”
“I don’t think you’re a monster. I’m confused by so much change so suddenly.” She bites the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying more.
Theo stands. “I’m sorry. I deserve that. I’ll go and inform, Mr. Geldman that he has the position if he wants it. I’m sure that if you approve him, he is well qualified. I’ll see you at dinner?”
Unable to bear sitting with him through a meal and wondering what he’s thinking about her, she takes the cowardly way out. “I’m quite tired. I think I’ll take a small meal in my room.”
He nods his head once and looks at her as if he knows exactly why she’s “tired” and says, “Then I’ll see you at the ball tomorrow.”
Those damn tears that are always so close to the surface lately push through her emotions. “Yes. Of course.” She runs past him to the house, up the stairs, and heads for her room.
Lady Chervil is floating down the hall toward her. “What on earth is wrong, Gwen?”
“I’m a fool.” She goes around Honoria and gets into her room in time to bury her tears in her pillow.
The door opens and closes with a soft snick. The mattress shifts as Honoria sits and rubs her palm over Gwen’s back.
For twenty minutes Gwen cries and Honoria says nothing.
As her sobs turn to hiccups, Honoria hands her a handkerchief. “You should wash your face, dearest.”
Feeling wrung out, Gwen pushes herself from the bed and does as she’s told. She scrubs her face in the cold water from the basin until her cheeks sting. While she dries her face, another sob tries to take her, but she pushes it away. She gets back on the mattress and stares up at the ceiling. “I’ll be fine now. Thank you for comforting me.”
“You would feel better if you told me what’s wrong.” Honoria lies back on the mattress next to her with her hands steepled like someone in their coffin.
“I’ve done a stupid foolish thing.” Again, she has to push down the sob.
“I’m sure whatever it is, it can be remedied.” Her voice is soft and comforting. It reminds Gwen of how her mother spoke when she fell from a fence and skinned her palm.
The familiarity makes Gwen want to confide in Honoria. She hasn’t had a mother figure in her life since she was five. “You are the kindest person.”
“No. I just like you.” Honoria looks at Gwen and smiles.
Impossibly, Gwen giggles, lifting a bit of the dread building in her gut. But then the truth rolls back into place. “I’ve fallen in love with him.” A tear streams down her cheek.
Honoria turns fully toward her and wipes the tear away with her handkerchief. “I supposehimis Theo Dandridge?”
With a nod, Gwen swallows more sobs.
“I don’t think that’s anything to cry about, dearest. Do you think His Grace shares your feelings?”
“Of course not. He doesn’t even like me. He just thinks his uncle would want him to be my guardian. I don’t want to be anyone’s duty for the rest of my life. And then what? In a year when he’s had enough of my constantly being underfoot, he’ll marry me off to some horrible sod? No. I can make my own decisions.” Despite her building anger, more tears stream down her cheeks.
Honoria shakes her head and sits up. “You should ask him for his true feelings instead of deciding you know them. Perhaps you would be surprised. I sincerely doubt the Duke of Stratham would be inclined to marry you off to anyone, sod or gentleman.”
“Why not? Am I that undesirable? Would I be a terrible wife? Of course, I would. I never know when to act the part of a simpleton.” Gwen punches the mattress.
“The answer to that is, never. However, I don’t believe His Grace is offended or bothered by your obvious intelligence.” She pats Gwen’s hand. “Get some rest, dearest. I’ll have a plate sent up with your dinner.”
“Thank you, Lady Chervil. You are very kind to me.” She closes her eyes. Why couldn’t she have made Papa understand that she was grown? Why had she been so hesitant to find a suitable husband? If she’d been a normal lady of the ton, she’d have insisted on a new wardrobe and a season or two in town, but she’d been content to stay home and keep the books. She’d never considered a different life until it was too late. This was all her fault.
ChapterNine
The Christmas Ball cannot begin until the duke starts the dancing. Theo shakes hands with Mr. Green and several other neighbors. It’s the one night that farmers, the butcher, and the local gentry all gather together as equals. Theo’s uncle, at Gwen’s urging, felt it was important to be one community and get to know each other.
She was right, of course. Men were more likely to help each other in tough times when they’d taken a meal together, drank, and danced together.
