The Scoundrel Who Stole Christmas
Page 2
Mrs. Wintle offered a curtsy, her tight, imposing features focusing on Katherine and Tom. “Follow me, if you please.” Her dark eyes barely darted in Leah’s direction as she started toward the staircase.
The house party wouldn’t officially begin until the next day once all the guests had arrived, but Leah was already too nervous to think clearly. She followed closely behind Katherine and Tom, but her mind drifted to the bargain again. Could her future husband truly be among the party?
She was foolish to think that she might make a match so quickly, but her sisters had done it. All three of them. So why shouldn’t she? What Katherine had offered her if she succeeded was worth far more than the embarrassment that she might endure by flirting and attempting to fall in love. How did one even attempt such a thing? Did it not simply happen naturally?
At five and twenty, Leah wasn’t entirely inexperienced with love.
Only unsuccessful.
But she knew the feeling—the yearning to be near a man, his absolute reign over her thoughts, the urge to grin like a ninny at the mere mention of his name. She had felt it before. Another December, in fact, three years prior. Thankfully, time had healed her broken heart—but not her rotten luck. Ever since Mr. Davies’s rejection, she had experienced nothing but. Each time she took an interest in a gentleman, he seemed to be already smitten by someone else, disinterested in her, or even married.
She shuddered at the memory of her attempt to flirt with a man named Mr. Beaumont before learning that he had just been wed the month before.
Fortunately, her mother had never learned of that incident.
Mrs. Wintle led them through the corridor on the first floor, stopping outside the open door of a bedchamber and ushering Katherine and Tom inside. Leah craned her neck to see the soft ivory furnishings before Mrs. Wintle stepped in front of her, blocking her view. “Clara will show you to your room, Miss Sterling.”
Leah took a step back in confusion before a young maid appeared from her left. She wore a white apron over a gray housemaid dress, her blonde hair spilling out from beneath her cap. The young woman dropped into a hasty curtsy, and Leah could instantly sense her nerves. Her fingers twisted together, eyes darting toward Mrs. Wintle as if she wished to protest, but the housekeeper had already turned away.
“Good afternoon, Miss Sterling.” Clara paused, eyes darting to the side again, as if she were still hesitant about something. “Please follow me.”
Leah smiled, but the maid didn’t seem comforted by the gesture. The poor girl must have been quite overworked with all the guests arriving. She hesitated at the end of the corridor before taking a sudden left, peering into the nearest open doorway before taking a step back. “Yes, this is the one.”
Leah glanced inside the room, noting that the heavy curtains were closed. In the dimness, she could barely see the details of the saffron yellow bed coverings, tapestries, and mahogany writing desk. A large rug covered most of the floor, and there was even a small sitting area in the far corner of the room by the fireplace.
Leah swallowed, her throat dry. Was this truly all for her? She was not particularly fond of the yellow, but she could learn to live with it.
“Do you find it suitable?” Clara asked.
Leah met her cautious gaze with another smile. “Yes, thank you.”
Clara offered a curtsy. “I’m glad to hear it. May I be of any further assistance?”
Leah would have liked to change out of her traveling dress, but her own lady’s maid would be arriving soon enough, so she shook her head. “Not at the moment.”
“Very well. Good day, Miss Sterling.” Clara’s movements still seemed a bit uncertain as she hurried from the room, leaving Leah alone with that startling shade of yellow.
Perhaps if she called it gold, she would learn to tolerate it a little better.
As soon as Leah closed the door behind her, she exhaled slowly, the tension in her chest deflating. It had been a long journey from Hertfordshire, and only now did she feel the effects of it.
Her eyelids drooped, her legs dragging her heavy feet across the rug as she made her way toward the desk. As promised, a handwritten notice of events rested atop the surface. Sunday, the twenty-first of December, was blank besides an invitation to dinner, which was still hours away. Leah had plenty of time for a nap while she awaited her maid’s arrival. As soon as Grace arrived, she would feel much more comfortable. Being the last of her siblings still at home with her parents, Leah had developed the improper habit of befriending the servants. Grace was the person she conversed with most each day, especially during the weeks and months Leah’s parents were away traveling to one country or another.
Kicking off her half-boots and removing her pelisse, Leah crossed the room to the bed. She sprawled on top of the bed coverings, hugging one of the embroidered pillows to her chest. Her tired body sank into the soft mattress. She doubted she would actually sleep, but it felt delightful to close her eyes—if only to avoid seeing that dreadful yellow for a few minutes.
Her muscles relaxed, her mind drifting to images of snow-capped mountains, vibrant green fields, glassy lakes, blue skies, and charming Swiss cottages. For once, she had an opportunity to not be left alone at home with the servants, but to have her part in an adventure all her own. It was dangerous to dream of Switzerland so prematurely, but all that stood in her way was one small thing:
A proposal.
With only three weeks to make a strong enough connection, she would need to begin working immediately. Her confidence didn’t come from her own abilities, but from Katherine. Her cousin was determined to see Leah free from the confines of her family’s reluctant hospitality. Marriage was how Katherine had escaped, and it was the only way Leah would escape it as well.
At some point as her mind wandered, she drifted off to sleep.
A loud sound awoke Leah abruptly. Her heart leaped to her throat.
Her eyes flew open to see the door to her bedchamber swing inward, and the tall outline of a man began making its way toward the window. She blinked fast as her eyes adjusted, but the details of his appearance were lost in the darkness.
She heard a breathy curse escape the man as his leg collided with the edge of a chair.