An Icy Christmas Engagement
Preview
Chapter One
Heavy fog and a deep chill in the air meant that Caroline should have been in her bed, curled up with a good novel, and sipping warm milk until she inevitably fell asleep. Not bundled up with too many layers trying to traverse the London streets on foot. Yet here she was, her hands tucked into her underarm, her coat billowing behind her, and her eyes squinting to see a few paces ahead of her.
The carriage that had taken her to this side of London was lingering a few blocks away, ready to take her back to the comfort of her own home. It was not too late yet. Dusk had only just descended, which meant that many people were preparing their supper or heading home from their long days drinking their sorrows away at the tavern. Caroline didn’t mind being out this late. She didn’t mind the quiet. What she minded was the cold, the bitter chill that seemed to be seeping through her boots. It was a wonder snow hadn’t begun falling tonight even though it was already early December.
She let out a breath into her coat and savored the few seconds of warmth it gave her as she delved down another street. Relief flooded her when she spotted the building at the end of the street still lit, which meant that they hadn’t closed for the night. She’d taken a chance coming out here so late.
One year ago, this time, she would have been in the countryside, enjoying the last vestiges of warmth England had to offer during the winter months. Curling up in front of a fire with three blankets draped over her legs while the crackling wood served as soothing music while she read. Pure bliss. How things had changed. No one would expect the Viscountess of Winterbourne to be in these parts of London.
Dowager Viscountess now, sadly.
She drew to a halt in front of the cold door, pulling her hands free from the warmth of her armpits. The heavy knocker was cold to the touch and Caroline sucked in a breath, already uncomfortable. She knocked three times then waited. Rocked back and forth on her heels to keep her blood rushing through her veins and waited a bit more.
Just when her impatience had worn thin, the door opened, revealing a burly man with heavy scowl on his face. He looked her up and down. Caroline could only imagine what he was thinking. Not every day did one open the door of their establishment to see a woman bundled up from head to toe with only her eyes visible.
“Pardon me, sir,” she said. “But if I remain out here any longer, I may lose a few of my appendages.”
He grunted and stepped aside. Caroline murmured her thanks as she slipped into the warm space. She spied the lit fireplace on the other side of the room and made a beeline for it, sinking into the chair closest to it to absorb its warmth.
“It’s late.”
Caroline glanced over her shoulder at the man, then returned her attention to the fire. In hindsight, it might not have been a good idea coming here alone, even if she was no longer expected to have a chaperone at all times. She was still a lady, after all. And she did not know this man well.
Sure, she knew his name—Mr. Edwin Holloway, her publisher. She knew he was a lover of literature, like she was, and took his position in the literary world very seriously. Right now, that felt like all she needed to know.
He didn’t know she was the Dowager Viscountess of Winterbourne. He didn’t even know that she was a lady. All Edwin knew about her was that she’d once provided a riveting romance novel that had been well received by the public, which she hoped gave her the potential for future publications.
“I know it’s late,” she responded. “And perhaps I should have chosen a more appropriate time to see you.”
“It’s fine. I work late, as you can see.” Edwin lumbered over to the only other armchair by the fireplace. “I assume it’s about your book?”
“Not entirely.” She shifted to face him. “You told me that it has grown in popularity since it was first published. And because of that, I am seeking the chance to publish another with you again.”
Edwin tilted his head to the side, the balding spot on the top of his head shining under the glow of the fire. “Do you already have a manuscript?”
“I have an idea,” she confessed.
“An idea?” Edwin scoffed in disbelief. “Books are only half ideas and half execution. Your ideas are nothing to me if you do not have anything to show for it.”
“Oh, Heavens, and here I thought you had a little more faith in me.” She rolled her eyes dramatically, pulling free the bundle of pages she’d tucked into her coat before leaving the house. She hadn’t wanted to show him but… “I already have a few chapters finished. Pray, share your thoughts.”
Edwin’s scowl seemed to deepen at the pages she held out to him. But he reached forward with a grunt and took it from her anyway. Caroline studied him for a few moments as he began to read then, feeling anxious suddenly, she turned her attention back to the fire.
Others reading her work had always excited her. When her first book began being sold in the shops, and she heard of the reviews, she felt an exhilaration unlike anything else before. She’d finally found her true purpose in life, bringing titillating and heartwarming romances to life for others to enjoy. Writing was the only thing that brought her joy lately and it certainly helped that she could earn a pretty pence from it.
But Edwin’s scrutiny was unlike anything else she’d endured. Her first draft of the first few chapters was not going to be her best work but she hoped it was good enough for him to decide to work with her again.
“Requires refinement,” he said at last, thrusting the pages back at her.
Caroline’s heart sank. “Does that mean you do not intend to publish my work again?”
He only stared at her for a long, tense moment before he said, “It is in need of improvement, but it has potential. The tone is rather contrived, and the male protagonist exhibits a certain lack of vitality. Amend these aspects in the finished manuscript and return it to me at your earliest convenience.”
Caroline grinned. This went far better than she’d expected it to. “It shall take me a few months but I will be able to—”
“No, no, several months would be altogether too protracted. Kindly ensure it reaches me by Twelfth Night.”
“The Twelfth Night?” she echoed in surprise. “But that is less than three weeks away from now. I couldn’t possibly finish everything by then.” Not to mention the fact that she’d intended to visit her mother’s country estate for Christmas. She couldn’t possibly do that and publish a book in London at the same time.
“The publishing world does not wait for anyone. If you cannot handle the pressure then there is no reason for us to further this conversation.”
Edwin stood. Caroline shot out of the chair.
“Wait!” she called desperately. “I shall ensure it reaches you by that time.”
The look he gave her was one of doubt and it only served to strengthen her own uncertainty. Finishing a novel she’d barely started in less than three weeks felt like an insurmountable task. She didn’t know if she could do it. But she couldn’t let this opportunity slip through her fingers. Putting her writing out into the world was one of the only few things that brought her joy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this fulfilled.
“I will,” she stated firmly. “I assure you of that.”
For a moment, Edwin just studied her. Then he nodded, “Very well then. I’ll expect you at that time then. If there is nothing else…”
That was her cue to leave. Caroline nodded and headed to the door, feeling both invigorated and weighed down by the heavy pressure she’d just placed on herself. She’d never committed such a feat before. Could she manage it?
There was no time to second-guess herself now. Edwin’s eyes remained on her as if he was waiting for her to admit that she couldn’t manage the task. She kept her head high and her eyes focused as she said her goodbye, not letting out the sigh building in her chest until he’d closed the door.
Only then did the weight of her task come crashing down around her. It was one thing to write for pleasure. Another thing to write for publication. And something else entirely to attempt to do both in the span of three weeks.
But when her book was out into the world, Lady Caroline Winterbourne was no longer. It was Robert Winters, her pseudonym, that would be praised. And she was free to sit back and watch as her readers fell in love with the characters she’d created.
Honestly, that was all the reward she needed.
***
She would have walked home if it hadn’t been so cold. Thankfully, she had the good sense to take a carriage half of the way there. But judging by the half grunt the coachman gave her when she arrived, Caroline had a feeling he wasn’t too pleased at having to wait out in the cold for her.
She couldn’t blame him. She wasn’t his mistress after all. He was employed to Miss Louisa Tilbury, the veritable spinster of London, not the dowager viscountess. Even though Caroline was Louisa’s best friend, it didn’t save her from the discontentment of his task.
Caroline didn’t mind half as much right now. She snuggled into the enclosed carriage and tried to seek as much warmth as she could as she considered the task she’d just undertaken. Doing this meant that she wouldn’t be able to see her mother this Christmas, after she’d already sent word that she would be visiting. Would it be possible for her to do both?
Doubtful. It would take a week to get to her mother’s country estate. Which meant she would have to do her writing in even less time to meet Edwin’s deadline. No, it was impossible.
The thought plagued her all the way back to Louisa’s townhouse. Caroline helped herself out of the carriage, already used to handling such simple tasks herself. During her marriage to the late Viscount of Winterbourne, the wealthy and prestigious man that he was, she didn’t have to lift a finger. Her every whim was catered to and her every wish fulfilled. But three years as the viscountess, as comfortable as it was, left her discontented. It was not a marriage of love, barely one of friendship, and though they were comfortable in each other’s presence, Caroline did not enjoy her time as viscountess.
As the dowager, however, she was free. It felt odd thinking that way. The rush of relief and grief that came from her husband’s sudden death still plagued her six months later. But now she was free to do as she wished. It hardly mattered that the small inheritance she’d been left with after his death barely allowed her a place to live, which was why she resided with her best friend. She didn’t care that the distant relative who had assumed the title of viscount didn’t seem inclined to take care of her. Now she could take care of herself since her first book was such a success. More than that, she felt like there was finally purpose to her life. She couldn’t lose it now.
She sighed in relief the moment she entered the warm house and immediately made way to the drawing room. There she found Louisa sitting by the window sipping a glass of wine. Louisa looked over at her as she approached, raising a blond brow.
“I’d wondered where you disappeared to,” she said by way of greeting. “Sherry?”
“Please,” Caroline sighed. She said nothing, waiting as Louisa poured her a glass. She downed it in one go.
Louisa smiled, pushing her spectacles up her nose. Her eyesight was deplorable and so she wore them almost constantly. It only added to her image as a bluestocking, a lovely one at that. With silky blond hair and a heartshaped face, Louisa could have easily secured a husband if she wished for it. But she didn’t want it. She chose the life of a spinster and now, at four-and-twenty, there weren’t many gentlemen in London who would ask for her hand.
Louisa wouldn’t want that anyway, nor did she need it. She was wealthy enough on her own and had no need for a man.
“I’d be more than happy to pour you another,” Louisa drawled. “But I have a feeling you are in the mood to drown your sorrows, and that is never good.”
“Unfortunately,” Caroline sighed. “There is not enough wine in the world that will cure the problem I’m facing right now. It is likely to make it worse actually. Have you already had dinner?”
“Yes, right before I came in here. I could not wait on you, you see, since you did not feel inclined to tell me you were leaving.”
“Forgive me. I thought I would tell you when I got back.”
Louisa waved a dismissive hand, clearly not as upset as her words made her seem. “Think nothing of it. I assume you were meeting with your publisher?”
No one knew of Caroline’s secret life writing romance novels under the name Robert Winters. No one except Louisa who was her biggest supporter.
Caroline nodded. “He tells me I have to provide the finished manuscript of the novel I am working on by the Twelfth Night.”
“That is less than three weeks away from now,” Louisa hummed in thought.
“So you see my predicament. I had intended to visit my mother but now I will have to tell her that I won’t be able to make it.” Caroline sighed, pouring herself another glass. “She will be quite upset with me. You know how overbearing Mother can get. I shan’t hear the end of it.”
“I’m sure if you give her a good reason for your absence—or perhaps your delay—this Christmas, she won’t have much to say.”
“And what excuse could that be? That I have decided to pursue my love for writing rather than come to see her?”
“Oh, so dramatic,” Louisa laughed. “Simply tell her that you will be delayed due to charity work you’d already agreed to.”
Caroline straightened. Why hadn’t she thought of that? It wouldn’t be a complete lie since she had planned to volunteer at an orphanage. Her mother didn’t need to know when that volunteer work was expected to come to an end before she was meant to leave for the countryside and not after.
“Louisa, you brilliant lady,” Caroline said with a grin.
Louisa shrugged nonchalantly, a smile playing around her lips. “I’m not sure what you would do without me.”
“Neither am I. Granted, I will feel a little guilty but it may keep Mother from pestering me about why I have not gone to see her. Perhaps I will be able to meet Mr. Holloway’s deadline after all. I should start right now, actually, if I want to get a head start!”
Caroline shot out of the chair but Louisa’s hand shot out to grab her wrist. “Oh, sit down, you. It’s already late at night and you haven’t even had dinner yet. Have a few more drinks with me.”
Laughter curled up Caroline’s throat. “Am I to drink and not eat then?”
“You do not seem to care about the latter so why not?” With a cheeky smile, Louisa poured them both a glass. “We ought to express our gratitude for the liberty we possess to act according to our own desires. To partake of our repast as we please. To arrive and depart at our convenience. To indulge in refreshment whenever we so desire. This evening, we may choose to overindulge, and there is not a single soul who would dare to reproach us for it.”
“Perhaps I should be the one holding the bottle,” Caroline said, carefully putting the bottle of sherry on her side of her table as she eyed her friend cautiously. “I have witnessed you after a night of drinking and I think it would be best for us both if it never happens again.”
Louisa laughed heartily, the sound like music echoing through the empty townhouse. “You do not grasp the essence of it, Caroline! As a widow and an unwed lady, we are bestowed certain privileges that those who are wed or fully engaged in society in London could scarcely envision. You would find it impossible to pursue your aspirations as a writer, were it not for our unique circumstances. Even should you choose to write under the guise of a pseudonym.”
Caroline couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Her late husband, Harold, was a traditional man who would have shuddered at the thought of a lady writing for any purpose other than letters. He didn’t even like the fact that she was fond of reading.
The thought brought a mixture of pride and guilt, but it was easy to ignore the latter. “And you would not have been free to continue your study in botany,” Caroline said. “All that’s left is for you to open your own apothecary.”
“Once my inheritance runs dry, I just might. For now, I shall simply enjoy my days with my plants and my best friend.”
Louisa raised her glass in a toast and Caroline was all too happy to join in.
“I don’t know what I would do without you, Louisa,” Caroline sighed.
Louisa reached out to take her hand. “Be grateful you never have to find out.”
They both laughed at that. And drank until the bottle went empty and they went to get another. By the time they made it to the bottom of that bottle, Caroline completely forgot that she hadn’t eaten any dinner. Not that it mattered when drunken sleep blissfully claimed her.
Chapter Two
This wasn’t making any sense. None of this was making any sense. The more Cedric stared at the numbers, the more it felt as if they were taunting him with the incessant confusion they instilled in him. Nothing was adding up despite the fact that he was so meticulous with his finances. So why did his ledgers look this way?
He pulled his spectacles off his face and tossed them onto his mahogany desk in frustration. A megrim was already forming behind his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping it would be enough to soothe the ache. It only made it worse. Though perhaps that had more to do with the fact that he had been at this for hours and seemed no closer to figuring it out.
This never would have happened to his father. The late Earl of Colenhurst was a meticulous man. Such difficulties were not ones he faced during his life because he’d never allow it. Cedric had spent most of his life trying to emulate his father in so many ways. How could he have let this happen?
It wasn’t his mistake, he knew. He could handle his ledgers in his sleep. But during the few months he’d been away at the country estate handling the tenant affairs, he’d left it in the care of the steward. The very same steward who disappeared right before Cedric returned to London. And now it felt as if there was no undoing the errors.
Only it didn’t feel like simple mistakes. The more Cedric looked at the numbers, the more he felt like it had to be sabotage. No sane man could have ever caused such irreversible loss without noticing that something was off.
The door of his study opened and a tall, brown-haired man sauntered in, eyes falling immediately on Cedric. The broad grin he had been wearing fell the moment he spotted the scowl Cedric was giving him.
“My,” Harrison said. “What a frosty reception! Did the cook once more serve you fish? She ought to be well aware by now that it does not please your palate.”
Cedric groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. The megrim seemed to have doubled in intensity now that Harrison was here. “I am in no mood for your tomfoolery tonight, Harrison. I have an important matter at hand and I am no closer to figuring it out than I was when I first started.”
Harrison sauntered over to the desk. As Cedric’s oldest friend and business partner, he didn’t mind when Harrison reached over and picked up one of the ledgers to look at. But he couldn’t help the twinge of discomfort watching his eyes look through it. He could trust Harrison, he knew. If there was nothing else he was sure of, Cedric was certain of that.
Then again, he had been certain that he could trust someone else and they’d made every attempt to take that trust and shatter it into a million pieces. He was still picking up the bits of it.
Not to mention the fact that his steward of two years had run off after causing this mess.
“What on earth is this?” Harrison asked at last, frowning at Cedric.
“I would tell you if I knew,” Cedric sighed wearily. “Unfortunately, I have been poring over everything for a few hours now and I am no closer to understanding that mess. My steward, James, has made a folly of it all and left without a trace.”
“Left?” Harrison echoed, looking uncharacteristically serious. “When?”
“Apparently, he was last seen yesterday morning. And seeing that I had just returned this morning, I’m sure he must be out of London by now.”
“Do you think it was intentional?” Harrison asked as he perched on the edge of the large desk.
Cedric leaned back in his chair, tendrils of anger curling through him and making his megrim worse. “I have no doubt that it is. The only thing I don’t know is why. He has been a good steward all this time, so why the change?”
“Perhaps outside forces caused the change,” Harrison suggested. “Perhaps he was convinced to double cross you for some gain.”
Cedric shot out of his chair, stalking over to the sideboard, bristling. He’d thought about it, of course, but he would never let his thoughts stray too far. Every time he did, two faces came to mind. The same two faces that plagued him every day for the past six years.
At two-and-twenty, he’d been naive, untouched by the realities of heartbreak and betrayal. Lady Isabella, daughter of the Earl of Norton, and his former friend Simon Ashworth made sure to teach him just how sharp the daggers of deception could be. He’d loved Isabella. Their courtship was a brief but passionate one and he was certain that she loved him back. So certain in fact that he’d had every intention of asking for her hand so that they could be married by the end of the Season.
But her heart clearly hadn’t laid with him, because she was caught in a compromising position with Simon, Cedric’s best friend at the time. The man who Cedric had first confessed to having feelings for Isabella. The man who had encouraged Cedric to ask Isabella’s father for permission to marry his daughter. The man who, by all means, would have been his man of honor at his wedding.
That very same man had been caught with Isabella in a position that no proper man and lady should ever be caught in.
Cedric downed one glass of whiskey, then another, then another. He was about to drink his fourth when a hand shot out and plucked it from his grasp.
“No more,” Harrison scolded lightly. “As much as it pains me to say this, it makes no sense getting drunk tonight.”
Cedric scowled but made no attempt to take back his glass. He could already feel the first three swirling in his head. “I think I have an idea who would want to sabotage the business.”
“And while I’m sure you have good reason for suspecting whomever you’re suspecting, do you have any evidence to support it?”
Cedric remained in glum silence.
Harrison nodded as if he hadn’t expected anything else. “Then intelligence is what we need. Instead of trying to figure out this mess.” He gestured to the ledgers strewn across the desk.
Cedric crossed his arms. “What do you propose then?”
“We ask around. Discreetly. If someone is truly trying to sabotage you and the shipping business, I doubt they will stop at getting your steward to ruin your records and disappear.”
It was a smart move, Cedric knew. And as much as he would love to storm over to Simon and Isabella’s home—since they were now married—it would be wiser to do so if he had actual evidence to back his accusations.
Someone knocked on the door. A moment later, they were interrupted by the butler. “Pardon me, my lord. I wish to remind you of your plans to have dinner at Lady Hutton’s.
Cedric bit back a curse. He’d forgotten that he’d agreed to have dinner at his aunt’s house. She’d been bothering him about coming over for dinner so he doubted he could get away with putting her off again.
“This arrived for you as well, my lord,” the butler went on, approaching with a sealed letter in his hand. “It appears to be an invitation from Mr. Ambrose Sinclair to attend his dinner party.”
“Ah, just our luck,” Harrison spoke up, taking a sip of the glass of whiskey he’d stolen from Cedric. “Mr. Ambrose is well-connected and I hear he has a rather loose tongue when comfortable. Perhaps he will be able to give us some insight about our potential saboteur.”
Cedric grimaced at the thought. He knew Mr. Ambrose in passing, an astute but ruthless businessman whose practices were less than savory, bordering on immoral. Not to mention he had made it clear that he wished to have his daughter married, which did not spell well for Cedric.
“The last thing I want is for the man to thrust his daughter on me hoping to get her married,” Cedric complained but Harrison was already shaking his head.
“You needn’t court his daughter, Cedric, but you must accept that invitation. As problematic as he may be, he does hold quite a lot of influence in the shipping world and he is hoping to make a foothold amongst nobles. If spending one evening in his company will be enough to give you the information you may need, then it sounds worth it.”
“Why don’t you go then?” Cedric grumbled.
Harrison drained the glass, giving Cedric a lopsided grin. “And miss out on a night of debaucherous fun? You hardly know me, Cedric!”
Cedric only shook his head and realized a little too late that the world was spinning. Maybe those three glasses of whiskey had been a bad idea. His aunt was sure to notice if he was intoxicated when he arrived for dinner.
“I shall be certain to lend an attentive ear to the murmurs of the earth as well,” Harrison continued as he approached the door. “Nonetheless, fret not about it this evening. Relish the company of your aunt and the rest of your kin. Strive to keep your mind from dwelling on the distressing matter of your enterprise being assailed.”
Cedric stared balefully at Harrison as he left, who threw one hand over his shoulder in farewell. He was right though. It made no sense thinking about this any longer. Especially not when it was clear he would get no closer to the truth tonight.
It was easier said than done, however. Once that line of thought began, there was no stopping, nor was there any stopping the familiar tendrils of anger that curled within him at the memory of Simon and Isabella’s betrayal. And now his steward.
It seemed his life was bound to be full of betrayal. He tried shielding himself from it. He kept others at a distance, was always limited in his speech so as to never form any friendships or worthwhile relationships. It had earned him the moniker ‘Ice Earl’ and Cedric was grateful for it. It kept him protected.
That protection was being threatened however, and he couldn’t stand by and let it happen. Not again.
Chapter Three
His aunt Grace’s townhouse had always been a familiar and welcoming sight growing up. Cedric spent a lot of his youth in the beautiful townhouse and it was only when his carriage was pulling up in front that he realised that it had been far too long since he’d last visited.
Because of that, he tried to tuck aside his dour demeanor before heading to the front door. He didn’t want to be here. He’d much rather spend the rest of the night poring over the ledgers so that he could figure out a way to fix it. Cedric knew it would be weighing on his mind all evening otherwise.
But Grace had been asking him to come to dinner for a while now and he was all out of excuses.
The moment he stepped into the foyer, he was assaulted by a flurry of blond hair and petticoats.
“You’re here!” Lily threw her arms around his neck, forcing Cedric to bend uncomfortably. She was rather short and he was quite tall, which made embraces very difficult to maneuver.
“Yes, I am,” Cedric responded with far less excitement than he’d received. He pulled away. “Do you think it wise to throw yourself at others in your state?”
Lily stepped away, eyes sparkling as she rested her hand on her rotund stomach. “Oh, come now, I am still as sprightly as I was before I became with child. This tiny thing won’t hinder me.”
“Perhaps it should,” Cedric murmured but his words went unheard when Lily’s husband, Jacob, came to her side.
Cedric watched Jacob slide his arm around Lily’s waist and pull her into his side. He rested a tender kiss on her temple and Lily flushed furiously despite the fact that they had been married for two years.
Finally, Jacob managed to take his eyes off his wife long enough to acknowledge Cedric. “I have been advising her to take it easy, but she remains obstinate in her ways. Perhaps you might have greater success in persuading her.”
***
“Doubtful,” Cedric admitted. “She’s never listened to me, even when we were younger.”
“That is because you were always trying to act as if you were older and wiser than me,” Lily protested.
“That is because I am older and wiser than you,” Cedric countered but she only rolled her eyes.
“You may be older in your years but I do recall being the one to hold your hands at nights because you were afraid of the dark.”
“Is Aunt Grace in the drawing room?” Cedric asked, pretending Lily hadn’t spoken at all. He walked past her and ignored the laughter trailing after him. He was used to such teasing, after all. Lily was the type of lady who never recognized danger even if it was standing in front of her with a dark scowl and a threatening aura. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Jacob, her husband and a baron, had enough connections to ensure his protection for his wife and her playful tongue, she might have found herself in serious trouble for her sharp wit and penchant for speaking her mind in mixed company.
Not that Cedric would ever lash out at her. They’d grown up together, even though they were five years apart, and she was the closest thing he had to a sister. He would lay down his life for her if necessary—though he would never admit that out loud. Lily would never let him forget it.
They followed behind him at a much slower pace since Lily was heavily pregnant and Jacob was determined to stay by her side. Cedric entered the drawing room far before they did and had enough time to go over to his aunt, sitting by the window and give her a kiss on the cheek.
Grace studied him as he took a seat across from her. In his youth, Grace’s scrutinous eyes could always put him on edge, making him feel as if she knew every dark secret he possessed. Now, he was far better at hiding how unnerved she could make him.
“You are late,” she stated.
Cedric draped his arm across the spine of the sofa. “I was not aware you had set a time for my arrival. It shan’t happen again.”
Grace tilted her head to the side, not taking her eyes off him for a second. “Somehow, I doubt that. I’m just happy I did not have to ask Jacob to go to your house and drag you here by force.”
“I don’t think that would have worked,” Jacob said as he entered the drawing room, his arm still draped around his wife. They were a handsome couple, Cedric had to admit, and were bound to produce blond-haired, blue-eyed children that resembled them both.
He tore his eyes away from them, hating the twinge of envy he felt at the sight. He’d put aside the thought of love and marriage a long time ago. There would be no changing that any time soon.
“I’m inclined to agree,” Lily jumped in. “Cedric has only grown stubborn as he gets older.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Grace agreed with a serious nod. “And I would not be happy if your altercation came to blows. He can be rather hot-headed as well.”
“Hot-headed?” Jacob mused. “That doesn’t scare me. I am quite the accomplished boxer, you know.”
“Yes, dear, but you have not seen Cedric when he gets angry,” Lily told him. “He is more akin to a bear than man.”
“So you have no faith in my abilities, then?”
“I am just warning you, my dear.”
Cedric sighed heavily. “I came here to have dinner, not to listen to you all talk about me as if I am not present.”
“But it’s amusing, is it not?” Grace’s lips twitched, a surefire sign that she was enjoying herself at Cedric’s expense.
“Amusing to you, perhaps. But I would much rather spend my evening filling my stomach than debate who will win in a row between Jacob and I.” Cedric stood and began making his way to the door. “It is not much of a debate, however, since I would clearly be the victor.”
“I vehemently disagree!” Jacob protested, right on Cedric’s heels.
“Why don’t we test in the gardens after dinner?” Lily asked excitedly as she hurried after them.
“There will be no fighting tonight,” Grace drawled from behind. “Such things should be done during the day where I could gather my friends in time.”
“Tomorrow then?” Jacob asked hopefully. “Cedric, I hope you’re free.”
Cedric’s only response was a noncommittal groan.
***
Grace’s cook did serve fish, which meant that Cedric was forced to gorge himself on the appetizers and pick around the offending white meat until the dessert course was served. Grace did her due diligence, of course, and made sure to scold him about his pickiness, which Cedric only ignored. She’d been doing it for as long as he could remember and he had no intention of changing any time soon.
Besides, there were more important things on his mind. Like his potential saboteur and how he was going to fix the mess his steward made. It was all he could think about as conversation swirled around the grand dining room. Lily and Jacob seemed to be engrossed in a debate that Grace was having quite a bit of fun in playing the trickster’s advocate. Cedric only pretended to listen.
“Cedric?” Grace called at last. He looked up from the peas he was idly arranging into a straight line to see her frowning at him. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes, cousin,” Lily jumped in, her voice tinged with concern. “You have been rather quiet since we began. Quieter than usual.”
“Are you thinking about our boxing match on the morrow?” Jacob asked in what was clearly meant to be a jest, but fell flat. He coughed, embarrassed when no one laughed.
Cedric returned his eyes to the line of peas, considering if he should tell them about what bothered him.
“You might as well unburden yourself,” Grace said, clearly sensing the direction of his thoughts. “We may be able to help put your mind at ease.”
“Unlikely,” he grunted. “I’ve spent all afternoon trying to right the issue myself and have had no luck.”
“Mother, he thinks he’s smarter than us,” Lily sighed dramatically.
“Yes, I believe you are right,” Grace agreed without a moment’s hesitation, but her eyes remained on Cedric. “Tell us what it is about. Perhaps we may be able to help you see something that you did not notice before.”
He doubted that, but he conceded nonetheless. Talking about it certainly beat stewing over it in his head.
“My ledgers are a mess and none of the numbers makes sense. Only after I took a look at them, I found out that my steward has disappeared, leaving me to figure out the mess he’d caused all by himself.”
Grace hummed in thought. “And I take it this is unusual behaviour for your steward.”
“He is usually very meticulous, which is why I felt confident enough to leave my affairs in his hands while I handled the country estate. But it appears he has sought to ruin my business.”
“Why would he do that?” Jacob asked with a frown.
Cedric shrugged and finally pushed his plate away. The sight and smell of the fish was already beginning to bother him. “I suspect he was attempting to sabotage me. What I cannot understand is why.”
“Perhaps he ran off with your money,” Lily suggested. “And schemed to mislead you from his trail with the damaged ledgers whilst he made his hasty departure.”
“If that was his plan then he is a bigger fool than I thought, because I shall hunt him to the ends of the earth if I have to. But I have a feeling he is not the mastermind behind this.”
“Then who is?” Grace asked.
Cedric simply shrugged. He didn’t really know, even if his fingers were itching to point at someone in particular.
“I do not know, but I intend to find out.” After a moment’s deliberation, he added, “Harrison believes I should befriend Mr. Ambrose Sinclair at his upcoming dinner party, since he has much influence in the industry and may be able to provide some insight on who is behind this.”
“Mr. Sinclair?” Lily wrinkled her nose, rubbing her hand over her stomach. “I do not like that man.”
“Have you met him?” Jacob asked her, sounding both surprised and alarmed.
“In passing. He was invited to my friend’s dinner party and he made it quite clear that he wishes to involve himself with refined gentlemen. Had he not been so loud and obnoxious, perhaps it would have been easier for him to do so.” She gave Cedric a pitying look. “Do not be surprised if the intention behind his invitation was only to secure himself at your side.”
“Perhaps that is not such a bad thing.”
All eyes turned to Grace. She calmly continued her eating as if nothing were amiss.
“But Mother, you do not like him either,” Lily breathed, clearly taken aback.
“That is true,” Grace agreed with a nod. “He is quite…tiresome. But, as Cedric said, he is quite influential in the shipping industry. Seeking to find out what he knows may lead you in the right direction. Even if it comes at the cost of courting his daughter.”
“Absolutely not,” Cedirc protested without hesitation. “I would much rather dwell in darkness.”
Jacob scowled at that. “Quite graphic, don’t you think?”
Cedric paid him no mind and neither did Grace. “Need I remind you that it is your duty as earl to continue the line?” she asked Cedric. “You must produce an heir and yet you seem to have no intention of marrying at all.”
“Oh, Mother, he is only eight-and-twenty,” Lily chimed in before Cedric could respond. “Many gentlemen hardly consider marriage until they are well past thirty.”
“It would be quite fine if I knew that he intended to do so eventually,” Grace said, before reaching for her untouched glass of wine. She took a dainty sip then continued, “But I know Cedric has put the thought out of his mind entirely.”
“And you think courting Mr. Sinclair’s daughter is what is going to make me change my mind about marriage?” Cedric countered with a raise of his brow.
“Perhaps. It is worth a try.”
He tried not to sigh. He’d expected this line of conversation after all. It was partially why he hadn’t wanted to come for dinner in the first place, wanting to avoid it at all cost. Talking about marriage wasn’t going to help his situation at all.
Ignoring the very thought of it was no boon either, he knew. Grace was only saying exactly what her brother—Cedric’s father—would have said. The stalwart and diligent late earl would not have let Cedric wait this long before telling him to get serious about marriage. Cedric carried that thought with him every day of his life, even as the gaping wound Isabella had caused him continued to fester.
“Marriage is the last thing for me to consider right now,” he said at last. “Not when it seems my business may be under attack.”
“Convey that sentiment to Mr. Sinclair when he endeavours to unite you two,” Grace drawled. “The affluent and esteemed Earl of Colenhurst is precisely the sort of son-in-law he envisages.”
Lily sighed, interjecting, “I believe what you ought to take from all this is that it might be quite prudent to cultivate a friendship with him and his daughter, as such a connection may afford you valuable insights. After all, one needn’t commit to a betrothal to obtain the information you seek.”
The very idea grated on his nerves, but he knew they were right. Mr. Sinclair may not be a morally upstanding business man but he was a wealthy and powerful one. Seeking that connection would only benefit Cedric in the long run.
He didn’t need to admit that they were right out loud, though. He simply sighed, looking over his shoulder as he asked, “When will the dessert come out? I am famished.”
“Eat your fish,” Grace scolded easily, “and perhaps you won’t be.”
“I intend to let Lily have it.” Cedric pushed his plate towards his cousin. “She is eating for two, after all, and it is clear that the baby enjoys it.”
Lily flushed, lips thinning and her shoulders bracing backwards as she prepared to argue. But Cedric didn’t miss the look of longing she gave his fish before looking back at her clean plate. He grinned.
“Oh, very well,” she conceded at last. “But only because the baby is famished, not I.”
The others laughed and the conversation turned to all the types of food Lily—or in her words, the baby—had been craving as of late. Cedric tried to remain present but his mind kept wandering back to his study and the array of ledgers strewn across his desk, waiting for him to return. Poring over the numbers again and again was bound to be a tedious but welcomed feat.
Certainly far more welcoming than the dreaded dinner party he would have to attend. He was not looking forward to that.
I hope you enjoyed the preview of my new novel“An Icy Christmas Engagement” It will be live on Amazon soon…
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