Page 23 of A Season for Christmas

He bounced around with Samuel on his back, gritting his teeth, much to Catherine and Anna’s delight as they clapped their hands in appreciation from the carriage.

After they stopped for a midday meal, Samuel rejoined them in the carriage—which was much warmer. Anna was mending clothes, keeping her focus on her hands, so he and Catherine could talk. The conversation meandered, from the books they’d read recently to the current art exhibits in London to politics.

When she was younger, Catherine had been interested in all those things but loath to speak on them. Her parentshad deemed them improper topics of conversation for a young lady. Apparently, either her husband had not minded, or she had pursued her interests after his death, and now she was as strongly opinioned as she had been meekly curious as a debutante.

Samuel rather enjoyed the debates and was pleased when she listened to his points based on his experiences abroad and his business acumen and was rather startled to find himself changing his mind on several points based on her experiences in London.

It was clear she spent a lot of time talking about her favorite ‘improper topics’ when she was socializing.

She also took a great interest in what he was doing with his business, insisting he explain it to her, and some of the questions she asked opened several intriguing lines of thought that he fully intended to pursue. If they were to marry, she would be an equal partner in his ventures.

And marriage was very much on his mind.

His greatest concern—whether or not he would be able to handle her desires—had been soothed by their extra day together. He was sore but far more satiated than he’d ever felt before. Taking her lead was no hardship; in fact, it was a joy. And his greatest pleasure was her pleasure, something he could feel assured of giving her—she would not accept anything less.

Being with her was oddly restful. He did not have to think about what she might like or what she wanted from him because she stated it from the beginning. Being helpless to her whims was exciting. Giving up the reins of control was freeing.

When they finally pulled up to the Clarence estate late afternoon as the sun was beginning to fall in the west, he was disappointed their conversation had to come to an end,even though they’d been talking for hours. It was not enough. He was not sure he would ever have enough of her time and attention.

Truly, marriage was the only solution.

Hopefully, this time, she would agree.

But he could hardly ask her now.

She and Anna leaned to peer out the window, though it was hard to see the landscape when it was covered in snow. There were quite a few trees and bushes and some statuary, but the details were lost under the blanket of white. In order to see the house, they would have had to stick their heads out the window, which neither of them did, waiting until the carriage was pulling around in front of it to get the first glimpse.

The windows at the front were lit up with candles, like a beacon against the growing dark, though daylight was not so far gone yet. Samuel wondered if Clarence had wanted to ensure they’d be able to find their way in case the weather turned again. It would be very like him. As feckless as he liked to pretend to be, he was also always thinking ahead.

“How beautiful,” Catherine murmured as the driver opened the door. Samuel went down first before turning and helping Catherine down. His driver gave him a look, and grinning, he turned away to let the man take care of assisting the maid. Samuel would have been happy to do so himself, but who was he to stand in the way of a flirtation—or even love?

Catherine tilted her head back, taking in the house. It was a grand old estate, well maintained, though clearly the kind of house that had housed generations of a family. Gregory had mentioned that his father was a stickler for ensuring the house and grounds were always spruced up—he’d been far more interested in that than in his own son.The grey stone looked a bit darker than he remembered against the white of the snow, the three stories rising above them with three rows of paned windows lit by candles to brighten its appearance.

The large black doors of the front entrance swung open, and Gregory came striding out, looking almost exactly as Samuel remembered, beaming with his arms wide open.

“Samuel!”

“Gregory!” Letting go of Catherine’s hand, Samuel went to meet him, and they embraced each other with a slap on the back before Samuel stepped back.

“I hear you brought a lovely lady to visit me as well,” Gregory said, turning his attention to Catherine with his most charming smile.

Samuel felt a small twinge. Gregory was a very handsome man. When they’d been at school together, everyone knew that there was no point in trying to charm a lady Gregory had expressed interest in. She would always choose the ducal heir, with his poetically dark waving hair, his intensely penetrating black eyes, a face like an angel, and a body fit to pose for the Statue of David. The fact that he was also the heir to a dukedom,andincredibly charming and good-natured only increased his appeal.

In the time since Samuel had last seen him, Gregory had only grown more rakish, his hair now down to his shoulders and a brooding intensity hovering behind his charming smile, as if begging a lady to discover what hurts he was hiding beneath it. That he was now a duke, and not the heir, only made his appeal more potent. The unrelenting black of mourning made him appear dangerous rather than withdrawn or pallid.

Samuel had not meant their meeting to be a test. After all, Catherine had been a debutante, beholden to herparents, when she’d refused him in favor of a lord… but he felt a sudden sick twist to his stomach as he realized history could easily repeat itself.

“Gregory, this is the Dowager Countess of Cross,” Samuel said, hiding his sudden uncertainty behind the social mores of a polite introduction. He did use Catherine’s name, as a kind of reminder of their intimacy. Though he knew Gregory would not intentionally poach, the man seemed physically incapable of turning off his charm or even putting a damper on it. “Catherine, this is the Duke of Clarence.”

“My lady. Welcome to my humble abode.” Gregory bowed quite properly over the gloved hand she offered him as she curtsied to the exact degree owed to him as a duke.

“Your Grace,” she replied from the dip of her curtsy before straightening again.

“Very humble, just like its owner,” Samuel said dryly, relieved when Catherine dropped her hand back to her side and smiled at Gregory with her polite, social smile. It was not at all flirtatious, nor did she look at him with anything like the special light in her eyes that so far had been reserved for Samuel himself.

Some of the tight bands around his chest loosened in relief.

“We all have our virtues.” Gregory grinned. “Damn, but it’s good to see you. Let’s get you inside and settled, then we can talk over supper. All of your things are already in your rooms.”

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