Better than a Present Page 3

  She wished she had taken another sip of the brandy. How to reply to his questions? She was supposed to be a groom employed by Viscount Dixon. Naturally, most grooms had families; certainly many had brothers and sisters. Should she make up a plausible tale that mirrored her own personal experiences and frustrations? Perhaps sticking as close as possible to the true story would make matters less confusing.

  “Uh…well, my parents were killed in a coaching accident several years ago. I do have a sister who has recently married,” she admitted.

  “Is she pressuring you to find a woman to marry as well?”

  “Um…I’m a little young to consider starting a family. I need to work hard and save my money before I can think of getting married. But you are correct. My sister is frequently touting her happiness to me,” she answered breathlessly as she struggled to complete her longest reply as yet to him while still keeping her voice disguised.

  “So you can relate to the situation I’m going through with Adrian and Rebecca. I know that I should agree to meet these ladies from the neighboring estates. And I have to concede with Rebecca when she says I will never find my true love if I don’t make an attempt to meet eligible, unmarried women. But I have been to London during the Season and I have mingled with the available damsels in the marriage mart. I found many pleasing daughters of peers and some lovely young widows as well. But I haven’t met anyone who sparks a lasting interest in me let alone a woman I could see myself falling in love with.”

  She held herself in check as she listened to his laments about his efforts to find a lady to love. He didn’t mention being attracted to any particular woman in London. He hadn’t taken any special notice of her during the Season or felt the allure that she held for him. She couldn’t help feeling a sense of despair at the thought. Interestingly, in every other aspect, his experiences practically mirrored her own except his parents were still alive. She wondered if they were concerned about his unmarried state as well. “You haven’t mentioned your mother and father. Are they prompting you to find a lady to marry as well?”

  “No, my father’s memory is no longer sharp. He does know who I am but any concern about my current bachelor state wouldn’t be something that would register in his mind as an issue to worry about. Naturally, my mother is extremely happy about Adrian and Rebecca’s marriage. And especially now that Rebecca is increasing, she sees no reason to rush me into a hasty union that I might regret in the future.” He hesitated a moment before speaking again. “Do you believe in love at first sight, Sam?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that he had turned in his chair and was looking directly at her. She kept her face forward and her hat low over her forehead as she focused her gaze straight ahead at the stone fireplace. For some reason, she felt it was important that he understand her answer to his surprising question. “No, not at all; how could anyone make such a silly declaration? I suppose I could believe in attraction at first sight. I can understand experiencing a special connection with someone you have just been introduced to but how could it be possible to love a person that you don’t know?”

  “Rebecca claims she loved Adrian from the time she was a child without realizing she felt such an intense emotion for him. It took really looking at him when he came into a room unexpectedly to come to the sudden, startling revelation that she was deeply in love.”

  She forgot to keep her face averted and turned to stare at him when he spoke those words. Her heart was pounding and she felt flushed. She had a sudden sensation that something important was taking place in that moment. In a quest for an answer to the cause of her feelings of confusion, her eyes focused on his deep blue ones before she realized that she was allowing him a clear view of her face. As she became aware of what she had done, she looked away and forced herself to act relaxed as if nothing momentous had just occurred. She uttered the first question that came to mind. “W…what about you? Do you live in the area as well?”

  He raised his eyebrows and sat up a little straighter in his chair when he heard her question. “No, I don’t. I have a small estate in Saltash, Cornwall called Windmere.”

  “Cornwall!” Samantha blurted out the word in surprise.

  “Yes, have you been there?” He looked confused by her reaction.

  “Uh…no, I’ve never visited Cornwall but I have often wished to.” She still made the effort to disguise her voice but answered in a much softer tone than before.

  “Cornwall can be quite beautiful in the spring when the flowers are blooming and the trees are full and green with their new leaves,” he spoke with pride.

  “Believe me, I know how lovely the area can be,” She adjusted her tone to a gruff whisper once again.

  “I thought you said you had never been there,” he pointed out in a puzzled tone of voice.

  “I…I love to be outside with the horses but I…I also love plants.”

  “Do you have a small garden at your home?”

  She started to reply and then stopped herself. A groom would never be able to afford a house. She thought for a moment before speaking, “No, no, I live in a tiny room off the stables. The head gardener is my friend. He allows me to potter around in my employer’s garden when I have free time.”

  “How did you learn about Cornwall?”

  She studied Paul’s handsome profile from under the brim of her hat before she answered his question. She couldn’t help but admire his firm chin and full, kissable lips. She turned away and refocused her thoughts as she felt her heart begin to pound faster in reaction to his attractiveness. “Ah…the gardener has a few books on the gardens in Cornwall. I have studied them.”

  “So you can read. Where did you go to school, boy?”

  “My…my mother taught me. She was schooled by our parish priest.” She felt herself getting in too deep as the falsehoods she was telling began to mount. She attempted to turn the conversation back to him. “Tell me about the gardens at Windmere.”

  “I have a formal rose garden, a tree-lined walk that runs alongside an inlet, a small maze and large grassy area in front of the house.”

  She closed her eyes and imagined his garden as he described it to her. She could envision the colorful rose bushes blooming in the spring and the green, leafy trees bordering the path. How lovely it must be! “You are very, very lucky to own such a place.”

  “You know, there is a chambermaid who works at my brother’s home who I think would be just the woman for you, Sam. I’ve noticed she spends most of her free time strolling in the gardens at Burton Keep. Come on over after the holidays and I’ll introduce you.”

  Chapter Three

  Paul detected the note of reverence in Lady Samantha’s voice when she complimented him on his home even though she was still making a great effort to disguise it. It was clear she placed a high value on the simple beauty of flowers and plants. A deep sense of contentment settled over him as he realized the two of them had much in common.

  He hadn’t been able to resist tormenting her with his last comment about the chambermaid. He was eager to see how she would handle the situation.

  She made no reply to his barb and rose from her seat. “I…I’m going to check outside.”

  He studied her as she strode across the squeaky floor in the over-sized boots and reached for the handle. After opening the door, she thrust her hand back into her pocket and walked out onto the front porch. He could see her taking deep breaths of the icy cold air.

  He stood up. “How does it look out there?” he called.

  “The…the sky is clear. There is very little snow on the ground. I think it has warmed up.”

  He joined her on the porch. “Good; must have been a freak snow storm.” He put his hand on her sleeve. “Look, I’m sorry that I mentioned the chambermaid, Sam. I should have realized that you want to be left alone to make your own decisions on who you want for a loving companion and wife just as I do. I won’t say any more about it.”

  She continued to face the frozen l
andscape. “Thank you.”

  “We should be able to make our way back now.” He moved away from her. “Come inside and get your coat and gloves. I’ll tidy the place up and then take you back to Viscount Dixon’s stables.”

  She put on her over-sized coat and placed the bulky gloves on over her hands while he was busy cleaning up the remnants of the pie and bread. Then he banked the remaining glowing embers in the fireplace making certain it would not restart itself after their departure.

  He took one last look around the room and then locked and secured the front door. “Let’s go.”

  Paul led her outside to the back of the cottage where a small shed was standing. He pushed back the thin door on the building to reveal a large, black stallion that took up most of the inside space. “This is Cornelius. He might look fierce but he is actually a lamb at heart. You ride up behind me. He can easily carry us both.”

  “Uh…if you’re sure.”

  He moved an empty crate that was propped against the wall closer to Cornelius. He looped the bridle over the horse’s head and adjusted the bit in his mouth. “Let me climb on first.”

  He put one foot in the stirrup and swung his other leg over the stallion’s broad back. He adjusted himself until he was sitting to the front of the saddle tight against the pommel. He gently pulled on the reins as Cornelius started to prance. He leaned forward to whisper some calming words to the horse and guided him next to the crate once again.

  “He doesn’t understand the shift of weight. He’ll get used to the awkward sensation in a moment. Go ahead, step here and get your leg over, lad.”

  She stood up on the crate, wobbling slightly as her feet shifted inside of the loose boots.

  He reached out with one hand to steady her. “Careful.”

  She hoisted herself up and onto the stallion’s back.

  He led Cornelius outside of the shed. He could sense that she was gripping the sides of the saddle. She shifted her weight and landed against him.

  “Hold still, Sam. We’re in tight quarters here,” he instructed her through gritted teeth. “Grab my arms. I don’t want you falling off.”

  After a few seconds of hesitation, she gripped both of his forearms.

  Cornelius trotted through the melting snow and made short work of the distance she had covered with Mable a few hours before. Beyond asking once if she was comfortable, Paul was quiet throughout the ride. Her nearness was distracting him and he wanted to make certain they arrived at their destination without further mishap.

  A few minutes later, the horse trotted up the rise of a hill and the Dixon stables were visible below them.

  “Please let me off here. There is a stump over there that I can use to dismount.”

  He guided the horse over to the protruding piece of trunk. He held Cornelius in check until she carefully lowered herself off of the horse’s back. He waited until her boots touched the solid ground to speak.

  “Merry Christmas, Sam! I enjoyed talking to you.”

  “Same to you, sir. And thank you.”

  With nonchalance he was not actually feeling, he casually waved his acknowledgement of the words of gratitude and turned his horse around the other direction toward Adrian’s estate. As Cornelius plowed swiftly through the rapidly melting snow, he found himself taking several deep breaths to attempt to calm his shaking hands and his wildly beating heart.

  Sam, ha! It had to be her! Those bulky clothes did nothing to hide feminine curves and she walked with a woman’s inherent grace. Her speech was too cultured for a groom as well even though she had made a valiant effort to disguise the sound of her voice. And those dark green eyes; they were the same that had mesmerized him when Lady Samantha Grayson had happened to gaze directly upon him at Lady Redwood’s ball.

  Now, unbelievably, he had spent much of the morning alone in her company. He went over their conversation in his mind. He was charmed as well as intrigued. Granted, he imagined she was holding herself back from saying too much in hopes that he wouldn’t discover any flaws in her disguised voice. But even so, their discussion left him excited, inspired. They had so many things in common. He was very eager to spend more time with her.

  He also had a premonition that her skittishness today had not only been from concern that he would discover she was a woman dressed in groom’s clothes. He was fairly certain she was reacting to his presence. He knew she had noticed him in London. Paul gripped the reins tightly at the thought of Lady Samantha being attracted to him in the same way that he was captivated by her. He found her equally enticing dressed in baggy men’s clothing as he did when she was beautifully clothed in satin ball gowns.

  He sat up straighter in his saddle as he spied another man on horseback coming toward him. If he wasn’t mistaken the gentleman was Viscount Dixon himself. He was just the person Paul wanted to see.

  ****

  Samantha kept her head down and walked as quickly as she could to the door leading to the kitchen at the back of the house. The morning’s events were beginning to take a toll on her. The stress of acting the male part without any preparation in front of Lord Paul had been exhausting. Despite the pleasurable time she had in his company and the intense attraction she was beginning to feel for him, she was eager to return to the comfort of her brother-in-law’s home and resume her true identity.

  She reached for the latch, pulled it open and stepped inside a small room containing muddied boots and various cloaks hanging on hooks protruding from the wall. Her maid entered the room just as Samantha yanked off her coat.

  “My lady, there you are!” Bertha looked worn out and she gushed in a nervous manner as she clutched Samantha’s change of clothing in her hands. “I was worried when the storm came up! And then I heard tell that a horse had returned to the stables with the saddle but no rider!”

  “My horse took exception to the weather and tossed me. Thankfully, no harm was done. I found shelter,” Samantha answered her maid, relieved to speak with her own voice once again. “Where should I change? Does my sister know I’ve gone?”

  “In here, my lady.” Bertha indicated another door nearby and opened it. “It’s the housekeeper’s sitting room. She’s too busy this morning with the holiday preparations to be concerned about us using it. And no, Lady Dixon believes that you’re still in bed.”

  She slipped inside the room. Bertha followed shutting the door firmly behind her. “Sara accepted an excuse like that? She knows I never linger in my bed in the morning unless I’m ill.”

  “I took the liberty, my lady, to inform Lady Dixon that you had some trouble falling asleep last night and would join her later in the morning.”

  “You did well, Bertha. Sara wouldn’t question that logic.” Samantha sat on the edge of an overstuffed chair and raised one booted foot toward her maid. “Pull these things off me. My toes are beginning to hurt.”

  In short order, her maid removed the boots and the rest of the borrowed clothing.

  Samantha donned fresh undergarments and then her maid lifted a mint green muslin morning gown over her head. The sash was tied at the back and matching kid slippers were placed on her tired and sore feet.

  Her maid studied the front of the garment with a frown on her face. “Your gown has a wrinkle at the front where I grabbed it in my haste to find you, my lady. Should I press it for you?”

  “No, no, there is no time. I will be changing in a matter of hours for the Christmas Eve celebrations so this dress will suit me fine until then.”

  “Yes, Lady Samantha. Please sit on the chair again, my lady. I need to brush out your hair and refasten the pins.”

  Several minutes later, Samantha was ready to face the others. She opened the door to the housekeeper’s quarters and peered outside. No one was visible. She turned back to her maid. “Return the groom’s clothing as quickly as you can. I’ll be in the breakfast room.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Samantha walked toward the kitchen nursing her bruised toes. She sniffed the air appreciat
ively. Now that she was free of her disguise, she was able to relax and savor the delicious smells of the traditional Christmas dishes. The heady fragrances of roast beef, goose and gingerbread all combined to make her almost empty stomach rumble with hunger.

  She strolled around the corner into the room and surprised the cook, Miss Mott as she was cutting up some squash.

  “Oh, my lady, I wasn’t expecting you! Is there something I can get for you?” the cook asked as her face flushed with a rosy hue.

  “No, no, I was simply enjoying the delicious aromas coming from the kitchen.”

  “Why thank you, Lady Samantha. I trust the food will taste as good as it smells.”

  “I’m certain it will.”

  With a parting smile to Miss Mott, Samantha made her way to the breakfast room where she found her sister finishing a piece of toast.

  “There you are. Are you recovered from your lack of sleep?”

  “Yes, thank you, Sara.”

  “You’ll have to help yourself to the eggs, ham and toast this morning. Grimm and the other servants are busy supervising the placement of the holly and laurel sprigs in the drawing room. I have requested a kissing bough to be hung in the center of the room as well. I thought it would be amusing.”

  Samantha filled her plate with eggs and ham and sat down at the table. She poured herself some tea adding milk and sugar. “You’re just looking for any excuse to kiss Lawrence, Sara.”

  Sara blushed before retorting, “Don’t forget, Aunt Grace and her newest conquest Sir Chester will be arriving very soon. I’m certain they will take advantage of the tradition as well.”

  “Oh, yes, our aunt will definitely pluck a few berries from the kissing bough. She was never one to turn down an embrace from her admirers.” Samantha smiled as she thought of Aunt Grace’s many gentlemen friends. She was a lovely, vivacious woman in her fifties. Her husband had been killed in a hunting accident over ten years ago. She had had a steady string of suitors since coming out of mourning but she never seemed to wish to settle down with one man in particular.