One Christmas With The Earl (The Seldon Park Christmas Novella Book 1) Read online

  One Christmas With The Earl

  A "Seldon Park: The Short Stories" Novella

  By Bethany M. Sefchick

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright ã 2015

  Bethany M. Sefchick

  All rights reserved

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

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  Chapter One

  December 1815

  Lady Amelia St. Vincent took a deep breath and adjusted her gloves one last time. Just beyond the heavy oak doors in front of her lay the Countess of Raynecourt's grand ballroom. A room where she would be pawed at by every doddering old fool in search of a much younger wife and salivated over by every rake who thought that being a spinster automatically made her an easy tumble. Or that she was desperate.

  The very thought made her so ill that she wanted to retreat to her chambers. And it also effectively killed off what was left of her normally playful and sometimes outrageous spirit. After all, it was difficult to be brazen when one was feeling like little more than a prized brood mare.

  But she was Amelia St. Vincent. Mellie to her friends and family. She was the daughter of a duke. She was the sister of the current Duke of Enwright, a man so feared among the ton that he had been dubbed The Devil Duke. She was also a woman of mixed blood who had endured years of quiet whispers about her parentage. But more than that, she was a wallflower who was now valued for little more than her fortune. But she was also a woman who had endured far worse. Although not by much.

  In Mellie's opinion, there was very little that was worse than being abandoned by her brother at a house party hosted by the mother of one of his friends. Unless of course, she had been abandoned so that said brother could go off whoring at another, far-less restrictive house party given by the notorious rakehell, Viscount Chillton. Which was precisely what had occurred. Leaving Mellie alone to fend off the advances of every man who saw her as an easy mark and chaperoned only by a maid who was terrified of her own shadow.

  Lovely. Perfectly lovely.

  And perhaps there was something worse than her current situation, but if there was, Mellie could not think of it at the moment.

  So Mellie did the only thing she could. She squared her shoulders, took another deep breath and pushed open the door, allowing the stifling heat and swell of conversation from the overcrowded ballroom to wash over her in thick waves.

  The ballroom itself was just as it had been the first night of the house party the previous evening. Gold and silver glass baubles had been strewn about the room. Quite literally, in fact. They hung from the ceiling - including from the intricate lattice work of the sparkling chandelier suspended high above the ballroom floor - and were tucked into every spare nook and cranny available. Even in some places where they probably ought not to have been, given the shattered glass shards in various corners of the ballroom.

  Glass jars full of the glittering spheres littered side tables that had been placed strategically around the room. Balls in various sizes decorated the four monstrous Christmas trees that had been stuffed into each corner of the ballroom. Even the room's two enormous hearths, where roaring fires now crackled merrily, were festooned with the shimmering balls, along with ribbons, pine boughs, and enough candles to warrant two maids standing guard to ensure that the entire place did not catch on fire.

  Mellie was used to the more sedate holiday gatherings at Overlook Hill, her family's ancestral country seat, but here at Fieldown, everything was bigger. Brighter. Noisier. And far more crowded.

  It should have been the perfect setting for someone known to be as lively and vivacious as she was. However that was when she was assured of her brother's protection. With Adam gone, Mellie knew well that she was viewed as far easier prey for men with little to no moral code. And she did not care for it one bit. Which dampened her holiday spirits more than a little.

  However, it wasn't exactly as if she could depart the house party, either. Especially not after Adam had so unceremoniously hared off to Lord Chillton's home at Hallowby Grange in search of loose women with even looser morals. After all, there was the St. Vincent family name to uphold. Such as it was.

  In truth, the St. Vincent family had endured its fair share of scandals, starting with the possible illegitimacy of her own father, Henry St. Vincent. Then, Henry had gone and made matters worse by marrying a woman from The Continent. Mellie's mother Gabriella had been from Genoa, Italy. And a Catholic. Worse, she had died in a fall at Overlook Hill under suspicious circumstances. Well, suspicious to outsiders anyway. The family knew it had simply been a tragic accident, not that it mattered to the gossips of the ton.

  Mellie's eldest brother, Adam, was the current duke and a more feared man in all of England could not be found. In fact, most debutantes cowered in fear of him whenever he simply entered a room. Needless to say, Adam was not yet wed. Mellie's younger brother Archibald had been born to Henry's second wife, Alice, and he had longed to take Adam's place within the family. Archibald was a gambler and wastrel who whored and drank his way through life leaving scandal after scandal in his wake, including the most recent one that Adam had been forced to clean up.

  That one had been particularly nasty, but somehow Adam had managed to find a satisfactory solution to the problem. Or satisfactory to the young woman Archibald had so unceremoniously deflowered at least. Mellie wasn't certain how Archibald viewed the situation, though given that he had been unable to claim the young lady in question's dowry as his own, she doubted that her brother was very pleased. But Adam was. Not to mention that it was now another family scandal put to rest. And as Adam was the head of the family, that was all that mattered. Especially to Mellie. For she desperately wanted Adam to find happiness, even if she never would.

  A lot could be said about Adam, but no one could claim that he was not loyal to a fault. Especially where his family was concerned. He also did not drink, gamble or abuse women. Or his tenants. Which was why, when he had come to Mellie late last night and informed her of another house party that he wished to attend - one where he might be able to slake his physical desires that were going unfulfilled as of late - she had been hard-pressed to scold him for it. Or to refuse him. Oh, he would have gone to Hallowby Grange anyway. After all, he was the duke. However departing with Mellie's blessing would make it that much easier for him.

  Instead of allowing her notorious temper to flare, Mellie had looked at her older brother and seen the unhappiness and sheer misery that was lurking deep within his dark gaze, a gaze so similar to her own. And she had done the only thing she could. She wished him well and reminded him to be careful not to leave any bastard children in his wake.

  Even though that meant that she would have to endure the remainder of the holiday house party alone. Without Adam's protection. Though, to be fair, Adam's ruthless reputation still lingered within the halls of Fieldown. That might be enough to see her safel
y through the rest of the house party. At least Mellie hoped and prayed that it would be. She did not relish causing a scene, but she would if she felt it necessary.

  Still, she could not deny her brother this one simple thing. While she doubted that he would find love at Hallowby Grange, he might find something that would allow him to calm the restlessness inside of himself for a little bit. At least she hoped he could.

  And as for Mellie herself? She simply hoped to be able to depart the house party in a few days with her reputation still unsullied. She might never be able to marry for love, as she wished, but that didn't mean she wanted to become a fallen woman, either. And there were plenty of rogues present who would have been more than happy to give her - or any willing woman, really - a quick tumble.

  Really, Mellie had thought that Lady Raynecourt would have had better taste in her guests than this. Then she reasoned that the dowager countess' son, the current Earl of Raynecourt, had most likely had a hand in the guest list. That was the only thing that made sense.

  As she glanced around the ballroom, Mellie could see several men that she hoped to avoid. One was Viscount Munhall, a lecherous old man who was seeking a woman to mother his brood of nine notoriously nasty children. Mellie had heard so many stories about the viscount from her friends that she had determined to steer clear of him even when she had thought that Adam was going to be present. The man was a menace and she had no doubt that he would use every trick available to him in order to snare an unwilling bride.

  The other man she wished to avoid was Jasper Cortland, the Baron Rockville. Rockville had a reputation that was, in many ways, worse than that of the viscount. In fact, it was rumored that he was so depraved in many ways that he made both of Mellie's brothers look like saints. Considering some of the things that Archibald had done over the years, that was saying something.

  At present, both men were involved in conversations with other women, laughing and chatting as if they hadn't a care in the world. Good. That was very good. Mellie decided that would allow her time to make her way to the row of wallflowers already seated along the far wall of the ballroom. Once there, it was unlikely that either the baron or the viscount would seek her out since she was fairly certain neither of them wished to be seen approaching the "less desirable" women present at the house party. Which suited her just fine.

  Unfortunately, that meant that it was unlikely any other man would seek out her company either. Not that Mellie really expected any differently.

  She was a woman of mixed heritage and "tainted" blood. She had an olive complexion and dark looks. Her hair was a rich, sable brown and her eyes so dark that they had been compared to liquid chocolate. No one would ever mistake her for a cool English beauty like many of her friends. Which also meant that few men were interested in her as a potential bride and vessel to bear their children. She might be eligible and wealthy with a dowry so enormous that it put most other debutantes to shame. She might also be the daughter and sister of a duke. But she wasn't quite like the other pretty young things that dotted the ballrooms of London - either in looks or parentage. And that was something Mellie would never be able to overcome.

  Nor did she particularly want to. She had long ago decided to follow in her parents' footsteps. She would marry for love or she would not wed at all. It was as simple as that.

  And she really did not think it likely that she would find the love she sought at this house party. No mater how well-meaning her hostess had been when issuing the invitation. Or how the holiday season often seemed more magical and romantic.

  Mellie was about to begin making her way along the edges of the ballroom when a gentle hand stopped her and she looked up to see the kind eyes of Lady Raynecourt, the dowager countess, and her hostess for the next few days.

  "Lady Amelia," it is good to see you," the countess said as Amelia dropped into a deep curtsey. "I was told you were not feeling well this evening."

  Mellie had forced her maid Gwen to pass the lie along to Fieldown's staff earlier in the evening, but, in the end, she had been unable to remain cooped up in her room all night. Especially when she knew how important appearances were in the face of a gossip-loving society.

  "Thank you, my lady," Mellie managed with a small smile. "Whatever upset my constitution has thankfully passed. When I began to feel better, I knew that I could not hide myself away, lest you think that I was ungrateful for your hospitality. Fieldown does look so very festive at this time of year."

  The countess gave Mellie a knowing smile. As if she knew the reason for the younger woman's unease. Perhaps she did. The countess was a clever woman, especially with a son like the current Earl of Raynecourt, also known simply as Rayne to his friends. Though Mellie was fairly certain Rayne's mother called him by his given name of Brook, probably much to his annoyance.

  "Well, I am glad that you were able to recover so quickly and could join us for the festivities this evening." The dowager graced Mellie with a bright smile in return. "Perhaps you might find it in your heart to favor my son with a dance later on?" Then the older woman frowned as she scanned the room. "If I can ever find him, that is. Probably has his head buried in some book or other."

  It was no secret that Lady Raynecourt was desperate to find a suitable wife for her bookish son. The woman mentioned to anyone who would listen that the earl was, in her opinion, neglecting his duty to the family line, especially as he was considering traipsing off to Italy again to pursue scholarly endeavors. That the dowager was even considering Mellie - who at nine and twenty was also a bit older than the five and twenty year old earl - as a possible candidate for Rayne's wife spoke to how truly desperate the other woman was.

  "I would be delighted to dance with him," Mellie replied smoothly. "If you locate him, please do send him my way." Rayne was friendly with her brother Adam and was more than a little pleasing to look at. It would be no hardship to dance with him, even though the possibility of anything developing between them was highly unlikely. Rayne was nice, but he did not inspire a grand passion within her. At least not the way she had always dreamed her future husband would.

  "Splendid!" A look of relief passed over the countess' face. "But in the meantime, there is someone else you simply must meet!" Then, without waiting for Mellie's approval, the countess practically yanked the younger woman across the room until they were standing before a small group of four women and one man.

  To Mellie, the man looked extremely uncomfortable with the gaggle of young ladies. It was with something akin to relief that he excused himself from the other women and turned to the dowager countess with a deep bow. "Lady Raynecourt." The man's voice was deep with a slightly gravelly undertone. "What a pleasure it is to see you. I missed conversing with you at dinner this evening, much to my deep regret."

  Mellie was surprised when Lady Raynecourt laughed like a green girl just out of the schoolroom. "Fitz, you scoundrel! You flatter me." Then again, the man was so handsome that it was difficult not to be captivated by a single glance. Mellie certainly was.

  "It is not flattery if it is true, my lady," the man named Fitz tossed back easily and for a moment, Mellie knew a brief flare of jealousy. And she had to wonder for a moment if she had taken leave of her senses. Or had it simply been that long since she had been around such a physically attractive man.

  Though Mellie did not know this man, there was something altogether appealing about him. He was tall, which she could appreciate since she was exceedingly tall for a lady, which made it difficult to find appropriate dance partners if nothing else. He also possessed broad shoulders and a chest that she suspected would make women weep if they were to see him naked. Not that she should be thinking about such things, however. His dark hair was closely cropped, making his Romanesque nose even more pronounced, and his eyes were a lovely midnight blue color, hinting that there might be more than a little Mediterranean influence somewhere in his past.

  For a brief moment, Mellie wished that she was cool and blonde and blue-eyed so th
at she might capture this man's attention. She had no idea why, as she was no longer some idealistic young thing. But she was still a woman and this man was completely and utterly delectable. Especially to an on-the-shelf spinster like herself.

  "Oh, Fitz, do go on." Then the countess turned back to Mellie. " Lord Fitzherbert Frost, I would very much like you to meet Lady Amelia St. Vincent. Fitz is the current Earl of Houghton."

  Immediately, Mellie dropped into a curtsey. "My lord. It is a pleasure."

  "Lady Amelia is the sister of Lord Adam St. Vincent, the Duke of Enwright." The countess added that last part and seemed to watch the earl with unblinking eyes. As if she was gauging his reaction to Mellie's bloodlines.

  Whatever reaction the countess expected, she was clearly satisfied with the one she received. For when Lord Houghton bowed low and kissed the back of Mellie's gloved hand, the dowager smiled broadly, as if she had just played some clever trick on the both of them. Lord, the woman was odd at times, Mellie thought.

  "Lady Amelia, it is truly a pleasure," the earl said in that same gravelly voice, his eyes flickering up to meet hers with more than a little interest. "While I do not know your brother well, I have heard of him and spoken with him on several occasions."

  Most people had heard of her brother. That was no surprise to Mellie. Especially given how notorious Adam was among both society and the demimonde. She had no idea where Fitz had encountered her brother, but she sincerely hoped that it was within the former. She hated to think that this sinfully handsome man frequented the sorts of places that her brother did. She had no idea why she cared, really, but she did.

  "I am certain you have," she offered blandly. However given the twinkle in Fitz's eyes, Mellie was certain that this man had likely heard of her brother in other, more despicable ways.

  "Oh dear," the countess murmured, her attention diverted for a moment. "I see that Baron Rockville has Lady Marburry's younger daughter cornered again. What is her name? Florentina? Frederica? I cannot seem to keep them straight! Whoever she is, I cannot allow the girl to be compromised under my roof. She is a child! Blast the man, if you will both forgive my language." Then she sighed. "Mellie, if you would be so good as to come with me a moment, I believe I need to intervene before there are pistols at dawn. Fitz, please excuse us."