Page 3 of Bedded Under The Christmastide Moon

“No.” Mellie crossed her arms to keep from reaching out to him, begging him to stay, holding him, and not letting go. She was not a selfish woman and saw no reason to keep Brigham here only to play nursemaid to Mellie’s mother. “You have important matters to attend to in London. I will not keep you from that. You were kind to return when my father’s situation grew grave, and compassionate to a fault in giving my mother and me a home. I can ask nothing more of you.”

Brigham shifted from foot to foot, much as he had in their younger days when he knew he’d done something to anger his father.

“If I cannot convince you to accompany me to London, and you have no need of me here at Hockcliffe, then there is nothing further to discuss.”

Mellie feared that would be the way of things.

“I will see to my mother now.” She turned to find that most of their guests had indeed made their way inside, leaving only Mellie’s maid and Mellie’s mother seated in the front row of chairs. She closed her eyes for a brief second, pleading with herself to find some speck of happiness within her—at least for her mother’s sake.

The Dowager Baroness had lost her husband, her home, and now would be forced to live with the reality of her only daughter wedding a man solely to provide adequate healthcare for her.

In life as a whole, her mother suffered far worse than Mellie ever would—and she’d do well to remember that.

Chapter One

December 1833

Hertfordshire, England

Lady Melloria Whitmore stood on the ridge that served as the dividing line between Hockcliffe land and her family home, Tapton House. The frigid December cold had long ago numbed her face. The sweeping winds pulled her skirts back toward Hockcliffe, but blew her hair in the direction of Tapton House.

Which was very fitting, for Mellie was a woman torn between two lands, two lives, and two choices.

She breathed deeply, allowing the numbness to overtake her and banish the shivers that traveled down her spine. The punishing weather was soothing, in a way. It gave her something to focus on instead of the decision she need make.

Pulling her cloak tighter, Mellie thought about reaching up to return her hood to its place. It would not do to become ill on the eve of Brigham’s arrival for their Christmastide celebration.

Not that there had ever been much of a celebratory mood since they wed.

This year, however, was different.

Tilting her chin skyward and closing her eyes, she allowed what little sun seeped through the patchy clouds to kiss her face.

Yes, everything was different.

She knew she should return to the manor and complete the preparations for Brigham’s arrival, but Mellie lingered ever longer.

Bringing her stare back to her childhood home, her heart ached to see the destruction of the Montfort land and, in the far distance, Tapton House, abandoned for nearly three years now. Her cousin had come, had thrown her and her mother from their home, and had plundered the land for all its coal, and then fled when the property was no longer of value to him. The land was barren, and the house in disrepair.

No longer was it her home, either.

Not that her mother ever had the strength to make the short journey to Tapton House after her cousin abandoned the estate; however, Mellie was certain it had been the thing to push her the final step toward death. Her mother’s home, where she’d raised Mellie and spent every moment dedicated to her husband, was gone forever.

Her mother had been gone for five months now—though it felt like years.

Mellie, with several Hockcliffe and Tapton servants at her side, had laid her mother to rest beside her father.

And now, Mellie would be facing Brigham for the first time in nearly a year without the all-consuming burden of caring for her mother. Persephone and Saxton would not be joining them this holiday due to the impending birth of their fourth child.

It would be only Brigham and her.

Why did that terrify her so much?

But Mellie knew the answer; hadn’t any doubt why this Christmastide season was so very different than the five previous holidays.

Melloria, Viscountess Whitmore, planned to seduce her husband.

As if the cold winter day agreed with her decision, the winds grew in strength, reassuring Mellie and reaffirming she’d chosen the correct path.