Page 15 of Claiming His Christmas Angel

“No, of course not,” Atticus exclaimed, staring at his sister in disbelief. A second later, alarm surged through him, and he stiffened with suspicion. “Are you?”

“Am I what?” Now it was Liza’s brow that furrowed with puzzlement.

“Seeing a man without my knowledge.” The idea that his sister would be foolish enough to meet a young man without a chaperone was an unpleasant thought.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” His sister rolled her eyes in disgust, then glared at him. “I’m not a fool. It’s the fact you’ve been escorting me to Montford Place every day for the past two weeks and nowhere else that made me ask the question.”

“And I find it interesting that you are calling on your friend daily.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Clara, Daphne, and I are embroidering sashes for the suffrage movement.”

“You’re what?”

“Do not look so shocked. Mama and Clara’s parents forbade us to attend any protests, so we compromised and are stitching sashes for the protesters as part of our contribution to the cause.”

“Good God,” Atticus groaned, then released a harsh breath of relief.

At least Liza had not attended one of the rallies the leaders of the movement organized on a regular basis. The idea of his sister being thrown into prison horrified him. While he wouldn’t hesitate to secure Liza’s freedom, he couldn’t understand the men who refused to do the same for women they knew.

He’d heard far too many stories about how women imprisoned suffered all kinds of cruelty at the hands of the authorities. Several members of his club had actually bragged about how they refused to pay fines for their wives or daughters. He’d found them despicable and refused to associate with them.

“You truly must think me a daft woman, Atticus,” Liza said with biting irritation.

“I have never thought of you as foolish,” he replied firmly and shook his head. “Although you do have a tendency to leap before you look.”

“Well, since you don’t suspect me of carrying on a liaison, it arouses my curiosity all the more as to why you see fit to escort me to Montford Place all the time, but nowhere else.” A calculating look swept over Liza’s features, and he tensed. Her expression was the same one she wore whenever she was about to spring a trap of some sort.

“I’ve discovered Lord Montford and I have similar views on politics, and we both enjoy chess.”

It was the truth. The second day he’d accompanied Liza to the Montford house, he’d been invited by the earl into the man’s study for a friendly chat. Atticus had enjoyed the exchange immensely. Ever since, he’d found himself looking forward to spending an hour or two with the earl. The older man and Atticus enjoyed discussing bills up for consideration in Parliament.

While it was rare for them to disagree, when they did, their exchanges were lively ones. If they were debating an issue, it was their habit to do so over the chessboard, and Lord Montford often used a particular chess piece or strategic move to emphasize his point. Octavia’s father was an excellent chess player, and Atticus enjoyed playing against an opponent equal to his own skill.

Conversing with Lord Montford was always a pleasant way to spend an hour or two until Liza was ready to leave. He’d even managed to subtly coax several stories about Octavia from the man. The earl enjoyed telling stories, and his love for his daughters was more than evident.

“Are you sure there’s not some other reason?” There was the merest hint of amusement in his sister’s voice, and Atticus’s muscles tighten further with tension.

“What other reason could there be?”

“I think you’re hoping to meet Octavia, since you missed being introduced to her the night of the Ealing ball because of her early departure. Although, in all honesty, you’ve been out of sorts ever since that night.”

“Out of sorts?” he repeated as he arched an eyebrow at her.

“Yes, and I’m convinced it’s because you’ve not been presented with the opportunity to be introduced to Octavia.” A sudden frown of disapproval thinned her lips. “Although I would be quite disappointed if your reason was because I mentioned she had a large dowry. When I said she was an heiress, I was just trying to discern if we were in financial trouble. I would not be happy to think Octavia is simply a means to an end for you. She deserves better than that.”

“A means to—damnit, Liza. I told you our finances are in proper order. My holdings in America are providing steady returns. Your dowry, when you choose to marry, might not be that of an American Dollar princess, but it will be a generous sum.”

“Then you are not trying to finagle an introduction to Octavia because you need to marry an heiress?”

“I have said nothing about seeking an introduction to Lady Octavia,” he said through clenched teeth. He had no need when he was already acquainted with the lady in question. “And if that was the case, my intentions would be strictly honorable, not because the woman has a large dowry. Something I do not need.”

“So, for the past two weeks, the only reason you’ve accompanied me to Montford Place is to meet with the earl?”

“Yes.”

The lie slipped past his lips without any hesitation whatsoever, and Atticus quickly schooled his features into a nonchalant expression. Liza narrowed her gaze at him for a moment, before a small smile curved her lips. It was the smile of a Cheshire cat, and Atticus’s taut muscles tightened further. Whatever Liza intended to share, he was certain he wouldn’t like it.

“That makes me feel so much better then.”