Page 60 of An Earl's Christmas Seduction
He was angry with Constance, angry with his father, angry with his mother, and angry with the whole sorry situation. He would have gladly run away, but pride forbade him from doing so. Pride and Amelia. He could only imagine the sorrow on her face, the sorrow in her heart, when the announcement of the betrothal was made.
They had given themselves entirely to one another, and now Nicholas was about to break her heart. But he could see no other way of protecting himself, of protecting the family name, of protecting her, too. If he was to dismiss Constance and throw her out into the snow as he had threated to do, she would only ruin him.
“She can’t get away with it, Nicholas. We can’t let her,” Harry snarled.
They were in the library. It was still early, but Nicholas had been unable to sleep. His thoughts were on the terrible scene played out with Constance the night before. He rang the bell, needing a cup of coffee to steady his nerves.
“But I don’t know what can be done to stop her, Harry. What can I do?” Nicholas asked, as the door opened and the butler appeared.
“Ah, Branston, Happy Christmas to you. Some coffee, if you please,” Nicholas said, and the butler nodded.
He looked somewhat perturbed, and Nicholas raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“My Lord. A strange incident occured this morning. Lady Amelia was outside in the snow, banging on the door. I let her in and called for her maid to attend to her. There was no explanation why she was outside in the first place,” he said.
Nicholas glanced at Harry, curious, too, as to this strange tale.
“But she can’t have been outside so early,” he said, and the butler shrugged.
“I’m only recounting what I saw, my Lord. I’ll bring your coffee now,” he said, retreating from the library with a curt bow.
Nicholas glanced at Harry, the two of them exchanging worried looks.
“Is there something wrong with her?” Harry asked, but Nicholas did not know.
She had seemed in good spirits last night, particularly following their shared pleasure in her bedroom. He had not had a chance to say goodnight to her, retreating to his study, where the fateful encounter with Constance had taken place.
“I didn’t think so, though I fear there will be now. But I can’t put it off any longer. I’ll have to make the announcement, and then…” Nicholas said, his words trailing off, the thought of what was to come too dreadful to voice.
But Harry shook his head.
“Not necessarily, Nicholas. Do you know where the letters are?” he asked.
“In Constance’s bedroom, I presume. She has them with her. She’s ready to reveal them if I refuse to do her bidding,” Nicholas replied.
“Then we need to find them, read them, and burn them,” Harry said.
Nicholas shook his head. He did not imagine for a moment Constance would make it so easy. The letters would be hidden. Whatever they proved could still be revealed, even as Nicholas could not for the life of him imagine what theydidreveal.
Over the years, he had imagined all manner of different scenarios concerning his true lineage. Perhaps he was the son of a cook, a maid, a farmer’s wife, a grand lady from the continent, the young daughter of an earl, even royalty. But try as he might to discover it, the truth had always eluded him.
“You make it sound so easy,” Nicholas replied.
“She thinks she has the upper hand. She believes she does, and that makes her arrogant, Nicholas. I’ll slip into her bedroom during breakfast and search for them. I might find them, I might not, but we’ve got to do something,” Harry said.
Nicholas was grateful to his friend for his loyalty, even as he felt certain there would be nothing to discover. The butler now brought in the coffee, the clock on the mantelpiece having just chimed seven. The guests would not emerge for breakfast for some time yet, but the prospect of Christmas Day loomed sorrowfully in Nicholas’ mind. He could not appear happy in the face of such a terrible future.
“You can try, but I don’t think you’ll succeed. She wants to make the announcement at luncheon today. Perhaps I can put her off for a few hours, but she’ll only go on threatening me. You know what she’s like,” Nicholas said, and Harry smiled.
“Yes, I know what she’s like, and I hope what she’s like might be to her disadvantage, too,” he replied, tapping his nose.
But to Nicholas’ mind, the cause was lost, and there could be no hope of anything now coming between him and the inevitability of the announcement of his betrothal to Constance. He had but a few hours of freedom remaining, and now he could only lament his own broken heart and feel consumed with guilt for what he was about to do to Amelia.
Chapter 19
“Merry Christmas, my darling, and all the blessings of the season. It’s such a shame we can’t get to church this morning. I’m sure the viscount will lead us in some heart renditions of the carols we might’ve sung there,” Amelia’s mother said, kissing her on both cheeks and smiling.
Amelia had met her on the landing. Elsie had helped her bathe, and she had changed into yet another dress; a red gown with a yellow sash and shawl. The dress was open at the neck, and she wore Rupert’s locket. Clear for all to see.
