The Earl’s Mistletoe Bride

lordship has given notice to Mr Vernon.’

Beth tried to frown the girl down. What, after all, was so exciting about the departure of Jon’s top-lofty valet? Now that almost all the guests had arrived, Hetty should have better things to do. Beth certainly did.

‘But that is not the real news, m’lady. His lordship has sent for his old army batman to take Mr Vernon’s place. I’m told that her ladyship-his lordship’s lady mother, I mean-is fit to be tied.’

‘Now that,’ Beth said sternly, ‘is definitely gossip.’ It was, indeed, but Beth recognised that it was also likely to be true. She had found out that on Jon’s return from Spain, the Dowager had urged him to take on a top-o’-the-trees valet. Jon must have shared her view, for he had paid off his army batman, and engaged Vernon. It seemed that he had now changed his mind. But what did it mean?

No doubt the servants knew, but Beth could not possibly question Hetty, not after giving the girl such stern warnings about the evils of gossip. Did she dare to ask Jon himself? Well, why not? They were man and wife, after all, and he had asked Beth to run his household. He should have told her that he had engaged a new valet. He should have told her.

Since it was still very early, he would be downstairs in his library, working. Later, once the guests’ breakfast was over, he would be spending his time entertaining the gentlemen, but for the moment he would be alone.

She would finish dressing and then she would go downstairs to Jon’s library and ask him what he had done. And why.

The weak morning sunshine was struggling to illuminate Jon’s library. If his desk had not been near the window, he would have needed candles in order to work. At least there was not much correspondence to deal with. Possibly the last two days’ bad weather had delayed the post?

The door opened to admit the butler. ‘Miss Mountjoy has called and begs the favour of an interview with your lordship. She is waiting in the yellow saloon.’

So early? Jon continued to write. ‘Let her wait. In fifteen minutes’ time, you may invite her to join me here.’ He glanced up just in time to see a flicker of surprise cross the butler’s face. No, it was not how the Earl of Portbury was wont to treat a lady guest, but Jon was not at all sure that Miss Mountjoy deserved either title. He hurried to finish the instructions for his steward at Fratcombe. There was still much to be done there to remedy the damage done by his brother. George had a lot to answer for.

After some minutes, Jon sanded and folded the paper ready for dispatch. He checked the time by the long case clock. Any moment now.

Seconds later the door opened. ‘Miss Mountjoy to see your lordship,’ the butler intoned.

Jon rose politely but did not acknowledge his visitor. Instead, he held out the letter. ‘See that this is sent to my steward at Fratcombe Manor immediately, Goodrite. That will be all.’

As the door closed, Jon turned to Miss Mountjoy and favoured her with a cursory bow. ‘There was something you wished to discuss, Miss Mountjoy?’ He waved her to the chair opposite him. With a swift curtsy, she crossed the floor in an angry swish of silken skirts and took her seat. Jon leaned back in his chair, calmly steepled his fingers and set his facial expression to bland. Then he waited.

‘I imagine, Lord Portbury, that you were expecting me to call? In the circumstances.’

Jon raised an eyebrow. Otherwise, he did not move. The loud tick of the long case clock was the only sound to be heard in the room.

‘I have come to tell you, Lord Portbury, that I will not be abused and manipulated in this outrageous fashion.’

‘Outrageous, is it?’

‘You know very well that it is. When you settled that annuity upon me, and gave me the cottage to rent, it was in response to your wife’s last request. It was a sacred trust, yet now you would renege upon it.’

Jon allowed his hands to drop softly to the desk. ‘I have reneged on no promise, Miss Mountjoy,’ he said carefully. ‘Your annuity remains in place. Your cottage, however, was a mistake, about which I was not consulted. It is worth a rather higher rent than you are paying. Therefore, as my agent informed you, the rent will increase from the next quarter day.’

‘To a level which you know I cannot afford!’

‘That, ma’am, is not my concern. You have your annuity. You may always move to cheaper accommodation.’

‘You have ensured that there is none available, Lord Portbury. You take me for a fool, but I know you intend to force me to leave the district.’

‘If you know it, ma’am, why are you here?’ Jon said silkily.

‘I have come to tell you that I have no intention of quitting King’s Portbury,’ she snapped, ‘or the cottage I am renting from you. If you try to force me out, I shall fight you. I am not without ammunition, as you should be aware.’

Jon leant forward a little and allowed a sardonic smile to curl the corner of his mouth. ‘Indeed? Perhaps you would enlighten me? I do own your cottage, after all.’

‘I cannot stop you from evicting me, but I can ensure that your reputation, and that of your house, is destroyed if you do. If you proceed against me, I shall tell the whole world about your first wife’s preferences and why the Earl of Portbury was unable to sire an heir.’

Jon leaned back once more and sighed theatrically. ‘What a fascinating piece of gossip that will make, especially once your own role, as my late wife’s paramour, is made plain to all. I fancy your reputation might suffer at least as much as mine. Do you imagine you would be received after that?’

‘It is a price I would gladly pay for a victory over you, my lord. After all, I could always remove from the district later, perhaps even change my name. You, the great Earl of Portbury, have no such escape route. Once the world learns that Alicia preferred me to you, you will be the butt of every scandal-sheet in the land.’

Jon nodded slowly, as if considering her threat. ‘Do tell me about this escape route. If you move to another district, precisely what will you live on?’

She smiled then, for the first time, a confident, knowing smile. ‘Unlike the rental of my cottage, you cannot change my annuity, my lord. It was my deathbed gift from Alicia, a token of her regard. You merely executed her wishes. I find it gratifying that, even if I ruin your reputation, you will still be obliged to maintain me.’

‘Ah, I see. You believe your annuity renders you invulnerable.’ He pushed back his chair and rose. With one fleeting sideways glance at her, he strode across to the window and stood staring out at the garden with his hands clasped behind his back. ‘You know, Miss Mountjoy,’ he said evenly, ‘you really should read legal documents with more care.’ He heard her sharp intake of breath, but he did not turn. ‘If you had done so, you might have noticed the character clause I inserted in your annuity. It states, quite clearly, that if the beneficiary should lose her character, whether by criminal conviction or otherwise, her right to any payment will cease. I would wager a considerable sum that a woman who admitted to having a lewd relationship with the late Countess of Portbury would forfeit her character in the process.’ He turned slowly. ‘Shall we put the matter to the test?’

Miss Mountjoy’s hands had become claws, gripping the arms of her chair. Her face and neck had turned grey. In the space of moments, she had shrunk from a handsome woman to a desiccated husk. ‘You are a devil! I hope you rot in hell!’

‘And you are-’ He gave a snort of mirthless laughter and shook his head. ‘No, we will not discuss that. So…what do you propose to do now?’

‘What choice do I have?’

‘None.’

‘You wish me to leave King’s Portbury?’

‘I do.’

‘Very well. I will go. I will leave before the next quarter day.’

‘That seems an eminently sensible solution. And the other matter?’

She seemed to shrink even more. ‘I will say nothing. You leave me no choice.’

‘Quite so, ma’am. Let me add, however, that if any rumours should arise, from any quarter, about the conduct of my late wife, the annuity payable to Miss Louisa Mountjoy-wherever she is and whatever name she may trade under-will cease on the spot. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Yes,’ she said, in a small, crushed voice. ‘There will be no rumours, and no gossip. I shall not trouble you again.’

Jon crossed to pull the bell, but thought better of it. His first marriage had been a disaster, largely because of