Excerpt: No Mistletoe Required

Chapter One

 

December 19, 1817

Danby Castle

 

When he saw the number of fine carriages arriving and departing Danby Castle, Mr. Theo Jardine regretted having agreed to call on the Duke of Danby at his home during the days leading up to Christmas. Business was business, however, especially when a man was offering to invest in one of Theo’s schemes, and the figures Danby tossed around could double what Theo had already secured. While he was tempted to take the time to learn who else was in attendance at the castle and speak to some about the current scheme he sought funds for, this was not the best time of year to talk business. He’d be better off making connections now and saving the money talk for after the new year.

Glancing at his pocket watch he noticed only three minutes had passed since he’d been shown into the duke’s study, not the fifteen he was certain he’d counted off. The noise echoing off stone throughout the castle could drive even a deaf man mad. There must be three hundred and fifty children under the age of eleven running through the halls screaming as if a wild boar chased them. Pitter-patter was too gentle a word for the feet pounding down the staircase. The judicious use of tapestries on the walls would go a long way toward reducing the chaotic ruckus. How did the duke accomplish anything in this room?

Aside from the children and their noise, the room was quite conducive to work. The light through the window was bright enough but not glaring. The broad desk faced a fireplace above which hung an enormous painting of a hunt. Horses and dogs caught mid-leap, the hunters’ red jackets as bright as they must have been when first painted. If nothing else, the duke had good taste in art.

Shortly after Theo’s watch showed the passage of six minutes, the Duke of Danby himself entered. He paused to shake Theo’s hand before sitting behind his desk. He motioned to one of the leather chairs and said, “Sit, Jardine.”

Feeling much like one of the hounds in the painting, he sat. “Thank you for your kind invitation, sir.”

“You’re always welcome to join me over the holiday. As you might have noticed, a few of my family members are here, too. A few more will arrive over the next few days.”

A few family members? If that were all this was, Danby must be related to half the peers in England, and a majority of the gentry. Although, the duke would probably never admit to being related to anyone below a baron on Society’s scale of importance. “I’m eager to discuss our business, Your Grace. The potential profit is very promising, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“Yes, yes, we’ll get to that. I understand you aren’t married.” The duke leaned back, rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, and steepled his fingers.

“That’s correct, which allows me to focus all of my attention on what’s important.”

“Family, boy. Family is what’s important. There’s no reason to put off marrying. No need to waste one’s time searching for that nonsense they call love. A good marriage is a business transaction. One must delineate the pros and cons of the match, what each family brings to the joining.”

What was the duke going on about? “You must have me confused with someone else, Your Grace. I’m not here to settle a marriage agreement. I’m Theophilus Jardine. Mr. Twain and Mr. Yarrow, both of whom are investing in the venture I wrote you about, suggested I offer you the chance to join us. The anticipated return—”

Danby held up a hand and leaned forward. “I never discuss business so close to Christmas. We shall talk on Boxing Day, or the day after. Enjoy the activities and the company. Come, I’ll introduce you to my sister, the Dowager Marchioness of Westchester, who will introduce you to Lady Barbara, one of my grand-nieces, and she’ll discuss the schedule for the week.”

Theo rose as Danby did, feeling the fool for having assumed the duke was interested in an investment venture. “Your Grace, while I’m certain your grand-niece is graced with the most excellent qualities, I’m—”

Ignoring him, Danby called to a footman passing through the hallway outside the study. “Where is my sister? Westchester, of course.”

“I saw her in the morning room earlier, Your Grace. Shall I ask her to join you?”

Danby didn’t respond, setting off in a determined march out of the room.

Theo had to walk briskly to keep up with the shorter man. For as old as he was Danby was spry. And the man’s mind worked even quicker. There was no other explanation for how Theo found himself walking blindly down the plank with the threat of betrothal at the end.

In each room they passed, he saw couples or small groups entertaining themselves. The numbers by sex seemed evenly matched, so it was quite clear someone was particular about no one playing odd man out, even beyond the dinner table. Oddly enough, he didn’t see any of the children he’d heard. Thank goodness someone had taken control of them.

The morning room was the most crowded they’d come across, yet there were no men present. Theo hesitated at the door, but a glare from Danby was like the tug of a lead forcing him forward. Women of every age, from girls not yet old enough to have taken their bow at court to a few as old as the wily duke, watched their approach. Theo would rather eat cabbage than remain in that room.

Theo barely heard the names the duke recited among the elderly group, but the Marchioness of Westchester was the important one. Danby had mentioned she was his sister, so she was the one whom Theo needed to please. No sense having her report to Danby that he’d been rude or awkward. He had a conviction little slights toward the duke’s family could ruin Theo’s chances for landing the funds he sought.

“My lady, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance,” Theo said, bowing before her, then the others. “As well as all of you. It’s very kind of you to allow me to enjoy the holiday with your family.”

“What a handsome one he is, Danby,” said one of the women, whose name Theo had missed. Several others giggled with the glee of a girl on her first Season.

Theo thanked the heavens he wasn’t prone to blushing.

“My niece’s sister would be perfect for him,” said another, studying him through a lorgnette. “Her auburn hair and his blue eyes…or are they gray? Think of their children!”

If anyone began examining his teeth, he’d escape to the nearest inn without even waiting for his carriage.

“Please, girls,” said the dowager marchioness. She rose and took his arm. “You’ll frighten the poor man. I must introduce him to others before he can escape.”

Leading him away, she waited until they were out of hearing distance before chuckling. “The billiard room is upstairs and you’ll find some of the men there. Ask for directions to the card room, or the library if reading is your preference. First, however, I do need to make you known to these ladies or they’ll drive me mad with their questions. Any handsome man of the right age who isn’t a relation is an object of interest.”

Shuddering inwardly, Theo looked at the faces of the young women dressed in white morning dresses, their hair upswept, their smiles politely interested. Were they each hoping for a husband for Christmas? How many of them would return home disappointed? This scene was so far beyond anything he’d ever come across in a London Season.

Once they’d circled the room, the marchioness paused near the door. “You may make your escape now. Any of the footmen can direct you to the other men. I hope you enjoy your stay at Danby Castle.”

He bowed and practically ran from the room. He was the fox, and the hounds were barking in their kennels anticipating the hunt. What was he doing at Danby Castle?

***

Lady Barbara Graves begged off joining the others for supper and asked for a small plate to be sent to her bedchamber. Their journey to Danby Castle had been rough, and she was exhausted. Even the thought of looking to see if Lord Aaron Harlow was in attendance wasn’t enticing enough to rouse her. She curled up on the pillows on her bed and opened the book she’d brought. It didn’t matter how many books her great-uncle Danby had, this collection of Shakespeare’s poetry soothed her like nothing else.

She’d barely gotten through the second quatrain when the door burst open and her sister-in-law Eleanor, The Marchioness of Wickham, glided across the floor. “You’ll never believe all the cousins who are here. It makes me wonder if anyone remains home for Christmas.”

“If they do, they’re either married or not related to our great-uncle.” She set aside her book and scooted over so Ellie could sit beside her. “Oh, thank you so much for convincing Wickham to come. I could never face another Christmas here without someone to keep me safe.”

“‘Safe.’ How funny you are. You told Lord Aaron about the ball on Christmas Eve, which is as good as an invitation since our uncle wants as many marriageable men here as possible. Do you think he’ll come?”

“I’m certain of it. How could he not? He’d hinted at our future by the end of the Season. If it’s at all within his power, he’ll be here.”

“And propose!” Ellie pressed her forehead to Barbara’s and they burst into laughter.

“Who did you see downstairs? Anyone we know outside of our cousins? Who do you suspect has a Special License awaiting them?”

“You don’t think Danby purchases one for every unmarried adult over eighteen?” Ellie asked.

“He’s too focused for that. Only the ones who received a letter from him have to worry. Like me.”

“Like you? You’ve made your match. You’re just waiting for Lord Aaron to propose and make it known how much he loves you.”

An ever-present voice in the back of Barbara’s thoughts said if he loved her that much he would have proposed already. She hadn’t seen him since June. No one she’d written to in London mentioned him. He’d boarded that ship to India and disappeared. A heavy wave of emotion crashed into her and she drew up her knees. “No one has heard from him. You don’t think…I can’t even say it.”

“You think—No, Barbara, put those thoughts from your head this minute. Wickham would have heard if Lord Aaron’s name appeared on a list of passengers lost at sea. Whatever errand his father sent him on has kept him there. You’ll hear from him soon. He might even write your father and ask permission to propose upon his return.” Ellie stroked Barbara’s arm to calm her. “You’ll see him soon.”

Barbara had to hold onto that hope, or she’d never survive a week with her extended family. Danby had written to her specifically—a summons, her cousins called it—insisting she come for Christmas this year. That meant only one thing. She’d taken too long to marry on her own and would now be introduced to someone her uncle had chosen as the perfect husband for her. More often than not, it meant a good match for the two families, like any arranged marriage. She only had one item on her wish list, though, and that was love. As the daughter of a duke she didn’t have financial worries, and other than an overbearing great-uncle who views family like land acquisitions, she had nothing to escape.

All she needed was for Lord Aaron to come for her, and she could live happily-ever-after.