Read Online House of Trent 01.5 - His for Christmas by Jennifer Haymore - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Haymore
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didn’t want hers. Amelia was the one who mattered. Earning her trust and keeping it was more important to him than anything.
“Yes, I lied,” he told her. “Of course I did. I’ve been gone for years but I remember Berwicke. He’s been the county’s biggest gossipmonger since we were children. I didn’t want him spreading rumors about you. About…us.”
Still, he’d apparently underestimated the man. He’d run to Cheltham House and had already informed the earl and countess of his “findings.” Evan felt sick.
“But…then how…?” She gestured toward her father.
Evan shook his head. “Clearly, he got a better look at you than he let on. I’m sorry.” He’d tried to protect her, and he’d failed again, damn it.
She gazed at him for a long moment in silence. The world around them was quiet and still, the late-afternoon sky growing darker by the minute as her intelligent blue eyes assessed his face, judging his honesty.
And then a corner of her lips quirked and she nodded, as curt a nod as her father had given him just a few moments ago.
“Papa,” she began quietly as she turned back to her father, “I am a grown woman. I make my own choices in this life, and if others choose to gossip about them, that is none of my concern. But you need to know that Mr. Cameron has been nothing but a gentleman since the moment he found John and me walking in the snow. I’ll not have you nor anyone else disparaging him, when all he did stemmed from goodness and kindness. He saved us.”
Love for her surged in Evan’s chest. She was no simpering maiden cowering before the bulk of masculine fury that was her father. Instead, she stood up to the man. She was trying to protect Evan.
He wanted her like nothing he’d ever wanted in his life.
The earl’s cold gaze turned to him again. “Did you compromise my daughter?”
“Papa!” Amelia exclaimed in horror. “I am a widow! Not some innocent debutante.”
The earl made a noise that rather sounded like a feral growl. “You are my daughter. Widow or not, I’ll not have any man compromising you.”
Amelia made a little clucking noise and cupped her father’s cheek in her hand. “I love you, Papa. And I’ve missed you so.”
The older man opened his mouth, but before he could speak she continued in a soft voice. “Will you take me home, now? It’s cold, it’s late, and it’s Christmas Eve. And I am in desperate need of my mother and my sisters.”
He made a gruff noise of assent.
“And,” she continued gently, “Mr. Cameron will follow our carriage, and we will make him welcome, because he has been kind and he saved John and me from a ferocious storm yesterday.”
The earl made another noise, and he didn’t look very happy. But then he muttered, “Very well. But only because his family is already there.”
Amelia and Evan both blinked at him.
“Mrs. Cameron and her sister are at Cheltham House?” Amelia said.
“They are,” the earl said stiffly. “Your mother didn’t want them to be alone for the holiday, so she invited them to stay with us for a few days. Indeed, our house is quite full of people this year.”
Amelia smiled, and gratitude suffused Evan. He remembered Lady Cheltham to be fiercely protective of her daughters, but also kind and selfless—much like her eldest daughter. Her thoughtful invitation extended to his mother and aunt didn’t surprise him.
Amelia turned that smile to him. “Perfect,” she murmured.
She was right—it was perfect. Well, it would be, if not for the small fact that the earl clearly despised him, and probably the countess did, too.
Amelia began to walk toward his carriage, and after flashing a dark look at Evan, Lord Cheltham turned and grudgingly followed her.
Bemused, Evan drove the sleigh behind them the remaining mile to Cheltham House, unable to stop his thoughts from dwelling relentlessly upon what Amelia and Lord Cheltham could possibly be discussing inside the earl’s
“Yes, I lied,” he told her. “Of course I did. I’ve been gone for years but I remember Berwicke. He’s been the county’s biggest gossipmonger since we were children. I didn’t want him spreading rumors about you. About…us.”
Still, he’d apparently underestimated the man. He’d run to Cheltham House and had already informed the earl and countess of his “findings.” Evan felt sick.
“But…then how…?” She gestured toward her father.
Evan shook his head. “Clearly, he got a better look at you than he let on. I’m sorry.” He’d tried to protect her, and he’d failed again, damn it.
She gazed at him for a long moment in silence. The world around them was quiet and still, the late-afternoon sky growing darker by the minute as her intelligent blue eyes assessed his face, judging his honesty.
And then a corner of her lips quirked and she nodded, as curt a nod as her father had given him just a few moments ago.
“Papa,” she began quietly as she turned back to her father, “I am a grown woman. I make my own choices in this life, and if others choose to gossip about them, that is none of my concern. But you need to know that Mr. Cameron has been nothing but a gentleman since the moment he found John and me walking in the snow. I’ll not have you nor anyone else disparaging him, when all he did stemmed from goodness and kindness. He saved us.”
Love for her surged in Evan’s chest. She was no simpering maiden cowering before the bulk of masculine fury that was her father. Instead, she stood up to the man. She was trying to protect Evan.
He wanted her like nothing he’d ever wanted in his life.
The earl’s cold gaze turned to him again. “Did you compromise my daughter?”
“Papa!” Amelia exclaimed in horror. “I am a widow! Not some innocent debutante.”
The earl made a noise that rather sounded like a feral growl. “You are my daughter. Widow or not, I’ll not have any man compromising you.”
Amelia made a little clucking noise and cupped her father’s cheek in her hand. “I love you, Papa. And I’ve missed you so.”
The older man opened his mouth, but before he could speak she continued in a soft voice. “Will you take me home, now? It’s cold, it’s late, and it’s Christmas Eve. And I am in desperate need of my mother and my sisters.”
He made a gruff noise of assent.
“And,” she continued gently, “Mr. Cameron will follow our carriage, and we will make him welcome, because he has been kind and he saved John and me from a ferocious storm yesterday.”
The earl made another noise, and he didn’t look very happy. But then he muttered, “Very well. But only because his family is already there.”
Amelia and Evan both blinked at him.
“Mrs. Cameron and her sister are at Cheltham House?” Amelia said.
“They are,” the earl said stiffly. “Your mother didn’t want them to be alone for the holiday, so she invited them to stay with us for a few days. Indeed, our house is quite full of people this year.”
Amelia smiled, and gratitude suffused Evan. He remembered Lady Cheltham to be fiercely protective of her daughters, but also kind and selfless—much like her eldest daughter. Her thoughtful invitation extended to his mother and aunt didn’t surprise him.
Amelia turned that smile to him. “Perfect,” she murmured.
She was right—it was perfect. Well, it would be, if not for the small fact that the earl clearly despised him, and probably the countess did, too.
Amelia began to walk toward his carriage, and after flashing a dark look at Evan, Lord Cheltham turned and grudgingly followed her.
Bemused, Evan drove the sleigh behind them the remaining mile to Cheltham House, unable to stop his thoughts from dwelling relentlessly upon what Amelia and Lord Cheltham could possibly be discussing inside the earl’s
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