A Christmas Betrothal Read online

  ‘No, Amelia!’ Gideon’s voice rasped harshly in the tense silence as she reached down between his thighs, his fingers biting painfully into the flesh of her upper arms as he put her firmly away from him.

  Amelia was trembling, shaking as she looked down at the blaze of fury in that hard and arrogantly handsome face. Gideon’s eyes were a glittering black, his cheekbones standing out in the raw savagery of his face, his mouth a thin and angry line above a tense and clenched jaw. ‘Gideon—’

  ‘Not a word, Amelia!’ He turned her firmly, to readjust and refasten her gown. ‘There is nothing you can say—no justification for what just happened,’ he bit out in disgust as he stood up abruptly.

  ‘But—’

  ‘I should never have come here.’ Gideon looked down at her coldly. ‘Never have—’ He gave a tense shake of his head. ‘It was my original intention to spend only two days at Steadley Manor before travelling into Gloucestershire to spend Christmas with friends. I had thought, after I arrived here, to change those plans. But I think it better, in light of what has just happened, if I proceed with my original plan.’

  Amelia’s heart sank. ‘You are leaving … ?’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘First thing in the morning.’

  She swallowed hard as she blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. Knowing that there was nothing she could say, nothing she could do, when Gideon was so disgusted, so shocked by her behaviour, that he could barely stand to look at her, let alone spend any more time in her company.

  Chapter Eight

  In the event, it was much later than first thing before Gray was able to take his leave of Steadley Manor the following day.

  Aware of the need to stay completely away from the vicinity of Amelia’s bedchamber, Gray had instead waited downstairs for her to appear in the breakfast parlour. When eight o’clock and then nine o’clock passed, without any sign of her, Gray was forced into sending one of the maids upstairs with a request for Amelia to join him immediately.

  Her reluctance to be anywhere near him was made more than obvious when she appeared a few minutes later, pale and beautiful where she lingered in the doorway, as if half prepared for flight.

  Gray tightened his mouth at the reason for her reluctance, knowing he should not have kissed Amelia the previous evening, let alone touched her as intimately as he had. No doubt he had frightened her out of her wits with the intensity of his passion, he acknowledged.

  He thrust his hands behind his back. ‘I have been waiting to leave these past two hours, Amelia.’

  The same two hours, probably, Amelia realised, during which she had been crying as if her heart would break. As she had cried long and hard the previous night. Hot, shameful tears that had left their mark this morning in the dark and bruised look to her eyes and the deathly pallor of her face.

  She had not wanted to see Gideon again before he left. Had not wanted to see the coldness in his eyes when he looked at her. To know, to feel the disgust he must now feel towards her. It was too cruel of him to demand that she be present now, when he departed for Gloucestershire.

  Her chin rose proudly. ‘I am sure that you and I have nothing left to say to each other, Gideon.’ She met that narrowed and cold gaze unflinchingly as she defiantly continued to call him by the name she always had.

  ‘If that is your wish,’ he finally allowed remotely. ‘Right now my only concern is how soon I can expect you to be ready to leave.’

  Amelia gaped at him. ‘Leave for where … ?’

  Gray eyed her impatiently. The situation between the two of them was difficult enough, his temper already frayed from waiting overlong for Amelia to come downstairs, without his having to repeat himself. ‘I am sure that I told you I intended to start our journey to Gloucestershire first thing this morning?’

  She shook her head, her golden curls tightly confined this morning, held in place by a ribbon the same golden-brown as her long-sleeved gown. ‘You made no mention of my accompanying you.’

  ‘Well, of course you will accompany me!’ He snapped his impatience. ‘What sort of monster do you think I am, Amelia, that you imagine I would leave you alone here over Christmas?’

  Unfortunately Gray already knew the answer to that question. As he knew the reason why Amelia was so reluctant to be anywhere in his vicinity this morning. It was a reluctance that was perfectly justified when Gray knew he only had to look upon Amelia’s loveliness to want to make love to her all over again.

  Damn it to hell!

  ‘Well?’ he demanded.

  Amelia looked across at him, a puzzled frown between the deep blue of her eyes. ‘I do not understand. You said you were going to stay with friends. Surely those friends will not want an unknown woman foisted upon them? Especially at this time of year … ?’

  He gave a hard and humourless smile. ‘I have no doubt the St Claire family will welcome you with open arms! Besides, you are my ward,’ he added bitterly.

  Amelia shook her head. ‘But—I do not know the St Claire family. I have no gifts for any of them.’

  ‘I have gifts for them,’ he drawled. ‘You are my ward, Amelia, and as such the gifts will come from both of us,’ he added impatiently as she still frowned.

  Much as Gray might not have liked Alice Wycliffe’s suggestion that he take Amelia with him to Mulberry Hall for Christmas, as reluctant as Gray still felt to introduce her to the St Claire family, with their arrogant disregard for the unwritten rules of Society, he knew that he no longer had a choice. He could not stay alone here with Amelia any longer—just as he could not just depart for Gloucestershire in the knowledge that he was abandoning Amelia to spending Christmas alone at Steadley Manor.

  As much as Gray knew he should keep his distance from her, he simply could no longer even bear the thought of leaving Amelia alone here …

  If Amelia had thought, hoped, that three days of travelling across the country into Gloucestershire would allow herself and Gideon to reach at least the same amount of understanding as had existed between them before those intimacies had taken place between them, then she was to be disappointed.

  Two coaches travelled into Gloucestershire: one bearing Amelia and the maid who had been chosen to accompany her, and the second carrying Gideon and his valet. The trunks containing the clothing they would need for an extended stay were divided between the two carriages.

  Their two overnight stays at coaching inns were equally as lacking in private conversation between them, as on both evenings Gideon ate his meal in silence before leaving Amelia to the attentions of her maid by retiring early to his bedchamber.

  So it was that by the time the two coaches turned into the gates of Mulberry Hall, late on the third afternoon, relations between Amelia and Gideon were still tense and unresolved. Unless, that was, one accepted that this coldness, the remoteness that now existed between them, was how their relationship was to be in the future …

  The driveway to the house itself seemed never-ending, and Amelia’s eyes widened once the coach had come to a stop and she stepped out to look up at Mulberry Hall itself. It was a veritable mansion, huge and at least four floors high, with extra wings having been built onto the east and west walls.

  ‘How beautiful!’ she gasped breathlessly. ‘You did not tell me we were coming somewhere so—so magnificent, Gideon.’ She turned to him reprovingly as he alighted from his own carriage.

  Gray gave a derisive smile as he moved to Amelia’s side and took a firm hold of her arm. ‘No doubt you will find the St Claire family equally as magnificent. The Duke of Stourbridge can be especially—imposing,’ he acknowledged with a grimace. And he intended having a conversation with Hawk St Claire at that gentleman’s earliest convenience. A conversation during which Gray would no doubt learn—and deserve—exactly how imposing the Duke of Stourbridge could be …

  Amelia’s response was to clasp her cloak more tightly about her. ‘A duke?’ She shook her head, her eyes wide. ‘You did not say—You should not have brought me
here, Gideon—’

  ‘What else was I to do with you?’ Gray eyed her exasperatedly.

  Amelia’s chin rose defiantly. ‘I have lived at Steadley Manor without the company of family or friends for some two and a half years; I have no doubts I could have continued to do so for another Christmas!’

  Gray gave an impatient nod. ‘No doubt you could. I, on the other hand, decided otherwise.’

  Her cheeks flushed. ‘You—’

  ‘Could you save any more arguments for later, Amelia?’ Gray rasped grimly as the front doors of Mulberry Hall were thrown open and the St Claire family began to emerge—the three St Claire brothers and their wives, their sister Arabella and her husband Darius Wynter, and aunts, uncles and cousins too numerous to mention. ‘Or, alternatively, forget them completely!’ he added with hard dismissal as he turned to greet their hosts.

  The cutting reply Amelia had been about to make remained unspoken on her lips as she stared up at the imposing body of people coming down the steps to greet them. Well … to greet Gideon; the St Claire family had not even known of her presence until now.

  Amelia was sure she had never seen such handsome men as the three St Claire brothers and the blond-haired Adonis who accompanied them down the steps. The haughty and aristocratic Hawk nevertheless gave her a charming smile when they were introduced, and the darkly brooding Lucian gallantly kissed her hand. The rakishly handsome Sebastian St Claire stood on no such ceremony, but pulled her into a friendly hug, and the man who had the appearance of a Greek god—Darius Wynter, the Duke of Carlyne and husband to Arabella—kissed her warmly on both cheeks.

  The wives of these overwhelming handsome men were, as might be expected, all as beautiful as their husbands were handsome, from the tall and stately redhaired Duchess and the mischievous dark-haired beauty who was married to the brooding Lucian, to the serenely lovely Juliet, wife of the rakish Sebastian. But Arabella, Duchess of Carlyne, a young woman who appeared to be of a similar age to Amelia herself, was without doubt the loveliest of them all, with her gold and molasses curls and impish dark eyes.

  Within minutes Amelia felt totally overwhelmed at being surrounded by so many handsome men and such beautiful women.

  ‘No doubt you will wish to freshen up before joining us for tea,’ Jane, Duchess of Stourbridge, remarked kindly once they had all finally entered the magnificent marble entrance hall.

  ‘May I be allowed to escort Amelia to her bedchamber, Jane?’ Arabella proposed warmly as she appeared at Amelia’s other side. ‘The Blue Suite, do you think … ?’

  ‘Of course.’ The Duchess affectionately gave her permission.

  ‘I am not sure … ‘ Amelia turned in search of Gideon, and saw him standing a short distance away, talking softly—and obviously privately—in conversation with Hawk St Claire.

  Gray sensed rather than saw Amelia’s slightly bewildered gaze upon him. As he had been aware of everything about her these past three days as they had travelled through the snow covered countryside to Mulberry Hall. Most especially the pallor that remained in Amelia’s cheeks. The guarded expression in her eyes now whenever she looked at him beneath those silky long lashes. Her complete silence unless he deliberately engaged her in conversation.

  All of them, Gray knew, were caused by his unbridled—frightening?—show of passion three evenings ago.

  Dear Lord, Amelia was aged but nineteen years—a protected and innocent nineteen years—whereas Gray was eight and twenty, with a wealth of experience behind him both in and out of the bedchamber. His actions three evenings ago, the intimacies he had subjected Amelia to, must have scared her witless!

  He excused himself to Hawk St Claire before striding over to Amelia’s side. ‘Is something wrong, Amelia?’ he asked softly.

  ‘No. I—’

  ‘I believe Amelia only wished to make you aware that I am taking her upstairs to her bedchamber,’ the feisty and beautiful Arabella teased.

  Gray was not sure that allowing Amelia to become too well acquainted with the self-willed and forthright Arabella Wynter was in his best interests, but in the circumstances he had little choice in the matter. Especially as Amelia herself appeared to have nothing to say on the subject. ‘Yes, by all means go upstairs with Her Grace, Amelia.’ He scowled his impatience with her inability to even look him in the eye. ‘The Duke and I have some business that we need to discuss,’ he muttered distractedly, before striding off to talk to Hawk St Claire in his study.

  Just as if she were his dog or his horse, to be dismissed and then forgotten, Amelia inwardly fumed as she glared after Gideon’s retreating back. Or perhaps not … If Amelia had learnt anything this past three days then it was that Gideon took a far greater interest in the comfort of his horses than he did her own!

  ‘Men can be so impossibly boorish when in the company of other men, can they not … ?’

  Amelia turned her attention back to the patiently waiting Arabella Wynter, Duchess of Carlyne. ‘I am sorry, Your Grace. I have no idea—’

  ‘You shall call me Arabella, as I intend to call you Amelia,’ the other woman announced imperiously. ‘And you know very well what I meant,’ she continued, her arm still tucked warmly into Amelia’s as the two of them began to ascend the wide staircase. ‘My darling Darius is perfectly manageable when the two of us are alone together, but once he is in the company of any or all of my brothers he seems to feel that he has to demonstrate how capably he manages me. When, in reality, it is the other way around!’ Arabella gave an unladylike snort.

  Amelia had trouble envisaging the golden godlike creature who was Arabella’s husband as ever being in the least manageable!

  ‘I insist you tell me everything, Amelia!’ Arabella’s eyes lit up conspiratorially. ‘Gray has made absolutely no mention of a ward until today … ‘

  Amelia’s explanation as to how she had come to be Gideon’s ward was made in as few words as possible, by which time the two women had arrived at and entered a beautiful bedchamber decorated predominantly in blue with touches of gold—exactly Amelia’s own colouring.

  ‘How beautiful.’ She looked about her raptly. ‘I—’

  ‘Do not change the subject, Amelia!’ Arabella laughed reprovingly. ‘I absolutely refuse to allow you to leave me with so little information to relate to my sisters-in-law when I return downstairs. You know, of course, that Gray is our guest of honour?’

  Amelia’s eyes widened. ‘He did not say … ‘

  Arabella gave another of those inelegant snorts as she dropped down upon the bed. ‘He is a man—his sense of pride would not allow him to do so!’ She patted the bed beside her invitingly. ‘Gray is my hero. He is the whole family’s hero! And we shall be forever in his debt,’ she added softly.

  Amelia sat down abruptly, more bewildered than ever. ‘That does not seem to fit with the stories I have heard of his behaviour in Town … ‘

  ‘A word of advice, dear Amelia.’ The other woman patted her lightly on the hand. ‘Ignore whatever gossip you may have heard about him. Especially gossip that has been deliberately nurtured by the man himself,’ she added enigmatically. ‘I am not allowed to relate all the details, because I do not wish to hurt the feelings of innocents, but several weeks ago a madman attempted to take my life—and would have done so, I am sure, if Gray had not shot him dead first.’ Those beautiful brown eyes glowed with satisfaction.

  ‘Gideon shot a man dead … ?’ she repeated faintly.

  Arabella’s smile widened. ‘It is all perfectly true, I do assure you, Amelia.’

  She shook her head. ‘I did not doubt your word—it is only … As I have already told you, Lord Grayson and I have not been acquainted for very long—only a matter of days.’ Though it seemed so much longer to Amelia. It seemed, in fact, as if she had known Gideon all her life. ‘But on the night we met I am afraid that it was I who shot him!’

  Arabella Wynter sat back in surprise. ‘Truly?’

  ‘Truly.’ Amelia nodded miserably.

  Ar
abella’s attempts to hold back a smile totally failed her as first she smiled, and then chuckled, before bursting into joyful unrestrained laughter. ‘How wonderful! How truly wonderful!’ She continued to chuckle, her brown eyes aglow with merriment. ‘I believe, Amelia, that you and I are going to be the best of friends!’

  Amelia saw absolutely nothing to laugh about. In fact she was totally bewildered.

  Arabella Wynter’s advice to her was to dismiss any gossip she might have heard of Gideon. The other woman had described him as a hero. As the man who had saved her life.

  Amelia felt as if she understood Gideon even less than she had previously …

  ‘You and I need to have a private talk as soon as dinner is over, Amelia!’ Gray took a firm hold of his ward’s arm in order to escort her into the dining room as she reached the bottom of the staircase, wearing a silk and lace gown the same blue as her eyes, and a single strand of pearls about her throat.

  She looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes. ‘A private talk concerning what, Gideon?’

  Gray had joined the other gentlemen in the library several minutes ago, with the intention of enjoying a relaxing drink before joining the ladies for dinner. After the awkwardness of his earlier conversation with Hawk St Claire he had felt as if he could drink a whole decanter of spirits and not even notice!

  It had not taken Gray long, however, to realise that his friend Sebastian, his two brothers, and the dashing Darius Wynter all seemed to be sharing a joke at his expense.

  He had wondered at first if perhaps Stourbridge had revealed the details of their earlier conversation, but one look at that austerely handsome face had reassured him that Hawk was not a man who broke his word. And the Duke had given Gray his assurances earlier that their conversation would remain private between the two of them.