Page 43 of Seducing an Earl under the Mistletoe
Chapter 19
Christmas Day had dawned, and it marked a splendid rivalry between two of the most influential hostesses in the county—Arthur’s mother and Lady Fontwell. Their respective estates, both equally opulent, were primed for a day of grand festivities as they vied to outshine one another in a spectacle of lavishness and sophistication.
The affair would begin in the afternoon at Lady Fontwell’s stately mansion, where the aristocracy of the region would gather, and then it would continue at his own home in the evening, with his mother throwing a party as well.
Amid the extravagance of the day, Arthur, without any desire to partake in the festivities, was burdened by a profound sense of dread. The implications of the mysterious letter loomed over him, and the tumultuous state of his heart, torn between his love for Catherine and the responsibilities that weighed on him, was a relentless inner struggle.
As Arthur entered the church that Christmas morning, his heart swelled with emotion at the sight of Catherine. Her presence was a ray of light amid the solemnity of the service, and he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of affection for her.
However, as the congregation began to disperse after the church service, he couldn’t help but notice the absence of Marcus, a conspicuous void in the usually boisterous group of friends. Concern etched across his features, he approached Cate, eager to learn the reason behind Marcus’ absence.
“Catherine,” he smiled at her. His heart yearned to refer to her by her nickname, but he felt he did not have the right to do that any longer.
“Good morning,” Catherine smiled back. “It was a lovely sermon, wasn’t it?”
“Indeed,” he nodded, feeling awkward even amidst this casual conversation. “I haven’t seen Marcus. Has he left already?”
He could immediately notice that her expression was tinged with a hint of sadness. “No, Marcus hasn’t joined us this morning.”
“No? But why?” he wondered, concerned that something had happened.
In fact, just as he suspected, somethinghadhappened. Catherine proceeded to share the events of the previous night with him up until the last detail.
“So, you see, Marcus isn’t really feeling all that much like celebrating Christmas,” she explained. “What he needs now is some time to himself to come to terms with things.”
Arthur immediately understood the gravity of the situation. “I’ll go and check on him. It seems he could use a friend right now.”
“Would you do that?” she beamed upon hearing that. “But what about Lady Fontwell’s soiree? And your mother’s?”
He shrugged indifferently. “I am also not in the mood for big gatherings, to be quite honest. And I have a friend in need. Nothing is more important than that.”
She placed her hand gently on his shoulder, and he immediately felt the surge of a million little goosebumps, reminding him of their previous time together. But her words crushed everything.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “You are a true friend.”
“I told you that you can always count on me, Cate.” He couldn’t resist using her nickname, even if it was one last time. From now on, she would be Catherine to him. He had to come to terms with that.
Still, he could wish her a Merry Christmas; he could give her a hug. Friends did that. But before he could act on this wish, an unforeseen interruption occurred. Just as he was about to speak, Lord Thornton appeared with a possessive air, seizing Catherine by the arm and pulling her away from Arthur’s reach.
“If you will excuse us,” Lord Thornton stared him dead in the eyes while he spoke. A moment later, they disappeared in the crowd.
The unexpected and forceful intrusion left Arthur taken aback, his concerns and intentions momentarily derailed. His gaze lingered on the crowd as he felt a mix of surprise, frustration, and a lingering desire to understand the strange circumstances that seemed to be pulling them further and further apart.
But there was little he could do here. Instead, Marcus needed his help. Leaving the festive crowd behind at the church, Arthur set off with a sense of concern weighing on his heart. The path to Saltdean House was familiar, and he made his way with purpose, guided by his genuine worry for his friend.
Upon his arrival at Marcus’ home, Arthur found his friend in a state of desolation, aimlessly wandering about the house, lost in his own thoughts. With a heart full of compassion, Arthur approached Marcus, who attempted to put on a façade of indifference.
“You should go and have fun, Arthur.” Marcus sulked, his words belying the torment within.
However, Arthur was resolute in his decision to stand by his friend during this difficult time. He gently insisted, “I’m not leaving you alone, Marcus. I wish there was more I could do to help.”
Marcus, obviously still grappling with the anguish of his emotions, responded, “I just need some time to get over Isabel, my friend. That’s all.” Arthur himself knew that the weight of his unrequited love had left deep scars, and he knew that healing would take time.
In a voice tinged with wisdom and a hint of warning, Marcus admitted, “If anything, she was right. I squandered my chance, and now I must come to terms with it.”
“We all have such regrets,” Arthur nodded, when suddenly his friend’s expression turned more serious.
“I know you, Arthur. I know you better than you do yourself sometimes. I know you think you are skilled at hiding your emotions, but I know you, and I know my sister. Just heed my warning: do not make the same mistake I did. Do not admit your love for someone too late, because it is a horrible feeling.”
