Christmas At Hollywell (The Seldon Park Christmas Novella Book 4) Read online

  He raised a bottle in her direction. "Scotch? It is the best that Scotland has to offer, I can assure you."

  "I shall take you up on your offer." She smiled at him shyly, though what was wrong with her she did not know. She was not timid around men so why she should start being so with this man she had no idea. "Thank you."

  Julian winked at her, making her blush all the more, as if he was aware of his effect upon her. "I make it a rule never to drink alone. Especially when I have such a beautiful woman for company."

  For a brief moment, Catherine felt young again, but young in a way she had never known. She had only just been presented at court when Crossbury had made his offer for her, citing her wide hips as one of her most attractive features. She had never flirted with handsome young men or even truly been courted. In truth, she had never even really been kissed. Crossbury hadn't believed in such sentiments, mostly because Madame Nicolescu had insisted that it made a young women less likely to conceive. Now, Catherine was wondering what Julian's kiss would feel like upon her lips. It was a pity that she would never know.

  She accepted the glass of scotch from him and joined him in a toast to the continued prosperity of Hollywell. As they drank, Julian asked her about the history of the castle, as the new earl had been very vague on the subject. Likely because he hadn't been paying attention when Catherine had informed him of the rich history of the place, she suspected. Catherine, in turn, regaled Julian with tales of Christmases past and of large family celebrations that had been held within these walls over the years, as well as how her ancestors had fashioned their home from the very rocks of the coast itself. If Julian thought her boring or too intellectual, he was kind enough not to say so and instead, continued to question her rather intently on the castle's past.

  "Your ancestors built this castle from the ground up," Julian said with a note of awe as he helped Catherine into her chair as dinner was served. "Remarkable. Truly." Then he shook his head. "Though I confess that Hollywell's history is one of the qualities that attracted me to her in the first place. I enjoy people and places with stories to tell, with hidden depths and secrets that only come from experience and age."

  She nodded, biting her lip again, a habit she was quickly falling into for some reason. She knew very well that Julian was not referring to her in regards to his liking for aged things, but for a brief moment, she wished that he was. Oh, how she wished it, for the longer she was in his company, the more this odd, one-sided attraction of hers grew until she was afraid that she would do or say something foolish in his presence, letting him know how much she desired him. "It was in my family for generations until it passed to Crossbury."

  Julian looked a bit perplexed then, studying both her and the room in turns. "Then why let her go at all? This castle clearly means a great deal to you. Why was it part of your dowry and given to Crossbury? I have the impression that he was not as enamored of this place as you clearly are, especially given his lack of attention over the years."

  Catherine saw no reason to hide the truth now, especially not from Hollywell's new owner. After all, he would not likely care one way or the other. "My family's earldom was in financial difficulties by the time I came of age. My father had invested poorly over the years and I was the only child who lived beyond the age of three, all four of my brothers passing on very young. For the first time in centuries, there was no St. John heir, and I believe that my father was attempting to make my dowry more attractive to a young man who might, though some trickery, be allowed to take over the earldom. If Hollywell came with the marriage? Well, we as a family loved this place, so we assumed - incorrectly, mind you - that everyone else would as well. Not to mention that my theoretical new, young husband would assume the cost of the castle's upkeep as well."

  "And yet you wed Crossbury, who was all but ancient long ago, and not a younger man more suited to you." Julian raised an eyebrow. He had not asked a question. "I have a feeling, however, that was not a decision of your choosing, for you are far too passionate and intelligent of a woman to be saddled with an aged husband who, from what I gather, could barely tolerate his much younger bride."

  She nodded and blushed once more, stunned by how observant this man was. Not to mention how much he silently challenged her to reveal herself. Julian was blunt, but he spoke the truth, too, and Catherine found herself wanting to give him that truth in return. "My parents were ill with a wasting disease by the time I came of age. I was only presented at court briefly and then given a small fete to celebrate my debut. We were about to return to the country when Crossbury spotted me on Bond Street. He had noticed my, ah, wide hips."

  Lord, why was she telling Julian all of this? Had he added something to the scotch that loosened her tongue all the more? This was not at all like her. She did not talk about herself or reveal the sad details of her marriage to anyone. Not even Nicholas.

  "He wished for an heir and thought you could provide him with one easily enough." Again, it was not a question. Julian studied her speculatively, though she had the impression it was not in an attempt to determine whether or not she could easily birth a child.

  "I was eighteen. Barely out for a fortnight before I was presented at St. James as a blushing young bride. Three days later, my parents passed away." Catherine pursed her lips. She had come this far with the truth. Why not reveal the rest? It wasn't as if it would matter to Julian in the end, and speaking to him about the subject was rather freeing. "As I said, since the castle was unentailed, my father gifted Hollywell to Crossbury knowing how I loved it and likely thinking that, in the end, the estate would return to me when the earl died, especially given the vast difference in our ages."

  Julian nodded, his expression inscrutable now, his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. "Your husband, scoundrel that he was, died before the will was completed." Once more, not a question.

  "Heart," Catherine agreed quietly as she picked at her food. Suddenly, she was not very hungry, despite the fact that she had been ravenous only moments before. Reliving the loss of one's beloved home would do that, she supposed. "But Crossbury was not a scoundrel. He was..."

  Actually, Catherine no longer knew what sort of man her late husband had been. Cold, certainly. Remote as well. Though he had not beaten her when she failed to conceive, as it was rumored some husbands did to their wives, he had also not been particularly kind to her either. Julian, she decided, would never do such a thing as strike a woman. He was dark, certainly, and perhaps a touch dangerous, but that was far different than being a violent and cruel man. She had no idea how she was certain of such a thing, having only just met the man, but she was.

  "He was a bastard," Julian finished for her, clearly angry now, though Catherine had no idea why. "Had the wretch cared for you, even one bit, he would have made it a priority for you to keep your home. He also had many secrets. Ones you were never intended to know, for I have read the papers he left here when he last departed."

  When Catherine sat there in stunned silence, Julian continued on. "From here, I know the rest and I can assure you that the story is not fit for a lady's ears, with tales of mistresses and bastard children. Then, the old man passed on and his fool of a nephew rose to the title. The new earl kept Hollywell for a time, but he was young, barely nineteen, his wife a year younger, and was in many ways, little better than his uncle. They did not value the history or the old bones of this place. When they looked at Hollywell, they simply saw something aging and useless."

  "Rather like me." Catherine blushed at her words, afraid she had picked up Julian's habit of bluntness during their brief association. She had not meant to say that, lest Julian think she was feeling sorry for herself of fishing for compliments. "I am sorry. I did not mean to say that. I know I am old, but please do not think..."

  Tossing his napkin down in anger, Julian rose, his untouched dinner before him. Reaching down, he grasped Catherine's hands in his and pulled her to her feet, halting her words. "I am thinking many things
about you, Catherine, but I can assure you, none of them involve your age. I am not your idiot late husband, and I will not sit here and listen to you disparage yourself in that manner. You are worth far more than the earl ever realized. You are not simply a collection of years. In fact, you are so very much more that I do not even think about how old you are or are not! I have not from the moment you all but crashed into my life a few scant hours ago!"

  She could see fiery passion in Julian's eyes and wondered why he even cared. For a moment, that passion scared her as well, but then an even greater force, the force of untamed physical attraction, roared to life within her once more. She did not know where it came from and at one time, she would have simply pretended that attraction didn't exist. She had so often in the past, especially as a young wife presented with the temptation to stray into another, much younger man's bed. Not tonight, however. For tonight she was feeling rather unlike herself, the disquiet and dissatisfaction that had been building inside of her for so long threatening to bubble up and spill out. She was attracted to Julian and she would embrace that attraction. To a point. And perhaps farther? Not that he would ask, but if he would, she might be inclined to follow him wherever he led.

  Catherine had been restless before but ever since Julian had swept her up into his arms, something inside of her had shifted, the part of her that she had worked so long and hard to subdue was now threatening to break free. Tonight? Here with this man who made her stomach squirm and her breath quicken even after knowing him for all of a few hours? She would let go. What harm could it do? It wasn't as if she was going to marry this man. All she desired was a taste of what she had never been blessed with the opportunity to enjoy. A taste of what the passion of a man was truly like.

  Julian was a man of great passion, but not a man to wed. How she knew such a thing she was not certain, but she did. He was expressive in a way that neither her family nor her husband's family had ever been. To him, emotion was everything. To her? Well, to be frank, she feared emotions at times. Especially passion. Julian clearly did not. Perhaps she could learn something from this man while she was here.

  She looked into his eyes, his chest heaving with pent-up emotions and suddenly, Catherine faltered. Her old fears returned and she backed away. She could not do this. Who was she trying to fool? She was not the sort of woman a man like Julian Valette desired and she had best realize that sooner rather than later. Before she made a complete and utter cake of herself.

  Instead, she raised her chin a notch and met Julian's gaze, though inside, she was trembling with fear and he likely knew it. "You should think about it, Julian. Everyone else does. My age mattered greatly to my late husband. It matters to Society as well, just as it does to my friends." She shook her head sadly. "And you? A handsome young man in the prime of his life? It should matter to you above all people."

  "Why? Tell me, Catherine, why I should care about a nonsense thing like age." Julian drew back from her a bit to lean against the massive wall of windows behind him as he studied her like a predator studying its prey. She hadn't even been aware that he had somehow moved them both across the dining room to the grand, circular wall of windows that in the summer overlooked magnificent gardens. "Earlier when I mentioned age, even in such an offhanded manner, you practically begged me not to be cruel. What is it about your age that bothers you, Catherine? You are still young and lovely. Desirable. Certainly you know that, do you not?"

  Catherine all but glared at him, her earlier ire returning and her fear fading away once more. No matter how attractive this man was, she refused to allow him to toy with her in this manner. She'd had quite enough of that from the young bucks of Society over the last several years.

  "If I am so lovely and desirable, Julian, why don't men take me as their mistress? I am certainly willing enough and made myself amenable to them. So what else can it be but my advanced age?" He seemed ready to object but she cut him off this time, her own anger coming to bear. "And do not say that it is because they respect me as a lady, because I have done all that I can to convince the men of Society that I am ready to play the role of lusty and willing widow. Yet no man will approach me. Not even to partner for a simple dance, which at this point would be most welcome. I also have few friends, having been married to a man four times my age for all of my adult life. The other women my age are still wed to their husbands, so I do not converse well with them any longer either, as I am already a childless widow and relegated to the wall of old dragons at just about any affair. To put it rather bluntly, I do not fit anywhere. But especially not in a man's bed!"

  For a brief moment, Catherine could swear that she saw his nostrils flare and his eyes widen at her words. Then he was back to being Julian the predator again. She wasn't certain what side of him she feared the most because neither side of him made any sense to her. Especially not the side that seemed to have a wild attraction towards her. Or at the very least, some degree of physical desire.

  "You fit in here rather well, dare I say such a brazen thing to you." Julian raised an eyebrow, though he was obviously not sorry in the least for his words. "And clearly I was not in London this past season or I would have gladly bedded you, had you made your offer to me." His green eyes had turned dark, almost black and for a single moment, Catherine wanted so very badly to believe that he was telling the truth.

  Julian advanced toward her and she moved away, back to the center of the room and around the massive dining table. He reached for her with each step he took, but she slithered out of his grasp. If he touched her, she would not be able to think clearly. She had no idea what game they were playing, but this attraction that seemed to arc between them made it a dangerous one. Dangerous for her anyway. She still did not truly believe that he felt anything for her other than possibly pity. And she refused to be made a fool of again.

  "You flatter me, Julian, but forgive me when I say that I do not believe you in the least." She inclined her head when they finally stopped their dance, as by this time they were both almost on the other side of the room near the opposite wall of windows. "Men do not desire me. The rumor among the ton is that I am terrible at bedsport. Frigid. Passionless. Dead. That I failed to please my husband because I feel nothing. That I am not capable of feeling anything because I have ice in my veins." She should not be speaking like this, not to him, and a little voice in her mind all but begged her to stop. However the part of her that had been caged up by Crossbury for too long was in control now and that part of her was dangerous, almost as dangerous as she sensed Julian could be. Sensual, as well. Just like the man in front of her.

  Guiding Catherine away from the table without her realizing it, Julian led her to the circular wall of windows that overlooked the sea this time, his gaze almost thunderous now. "As I have said, Crossbury was a fool twice over. Perhaps more than that. But enough about your husband for now. He is dead. You are not." Outside, the snow continued to fall, the dancing flakes casting shadows on Julian's face as they fell, making him seem like an angel fallen to Earth. A rather angry angel, but a Heavenly being all the same. "Catherine, why do you believe so strongly that you are old? Undesirable?" He all but growled the question.

  "Because I am old." She honestly had no idea what this had to do with anything or why he was belaboring the point. Or why Julian was so angry with her because of it. "I am a widow. A dowager. I am five and thirty years of age, hardly in my first blush of youth."

  "And I am eight and twenty," he replied evenly, crossing his arms over his impressive chest, still glaring but a bit less angry now. "What of it? It is simply my age. It does not define who I am. It does not limit my experiences or dictate much of anything about me." He eyed her darkly, his green eyes flashing fire. The emotion was still there; just banked a bit. "No, you simply believe you are old, Catherine, because others have told you so. Your problem is that you were wed far too young, sold as little better than a broodmare and left to fend for yourself by a man who did not value the treasure he had been given. Yo
ur husband died, leaving you at the mercy of two nitwits who were themselves mere children and unable to appreciate the value of anything that was not shiny and new, just as the rest of Society does not. So forgive me if I do not take their word, or anyone else's, that you are old. Or undesirable. For my body tells me a very different story when I am anywhere near you!"

  Once more, rage boiled up within Julian at the thought of the way this exquisite creature had likely been treated. She had been sold by well-meaning parents for her womb to a man who likely hadn't the faintest idea how to pleasure a woman, at least according to what Julian had read while Catherine was resting. When the old earl had died, Catherine had been tossed aside as useless, the new earl spreading rumors about her and her lack of skill in the bedroom for no real reason that Julian could determine other than to be cruel. Then, that same foolish earl had sold Hollywell to Julian for a mere pittance, clearly not valuing the venerable old castle, just as he and his wife had not valued Catherine. All the better for him in the end, he supposed. For now he had both and he intended to enjoy them while they were in his possession. Especially Catherine.

  "Why do you even care?" Catherine growled back, her own anger growing again, and the edges of her control fraying a bit. She was old. She knew that, as did everyone else. She was not desirable to any man, let alone one as handsome and youthful as Julian. What pleasure did he take from taunting her this way?

  "Because you are a beautiful, desirable woman who deserves more than what life has given you!" Julian raged, feeling all of his primal instincts roaring up from where he was usually able to keep them locked safely away. "Because if given the chance I would welcome you to my bed gladly and teach you all that you could ever wish to know. Because I desire you, Catherine, in a way I have not desired a woman in a very long time and I have no bloody idea why!"