Page 17 of The Scoundrel's Christmas Challenge
The mention of sleep brought a yawn, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “I apologize. But I believe it’s a sign that you are correct.”
Lucius opened the door to find Jensen blocking their way. “Excuse us, I’m escorting Lady Winfield to her chambers.”
“I don’t think so.” Jensen peered over Lucius’s shoulder at her, his head tipped, eyes questioning. “My lady?”
“Yes, Mr. Jensen, you may retire now. Thank you for your service tonight.”
The giant of a man nodded curtly and stepped aside. Christiana knew he would watch them from the shadows until she was safely behind a locked door.
Lucius walked her up the stairs, and she stopped at her bedroom. A thrill raced through her at the thought of him knowing where she slept. With his hands pressing against the doorway on either side of her head, he pinned her against the chamber door and bent to kiss her. A brush of lips, soft and tender, promising so much. It frightened her. And took her breath away.
Then he reached behind her, and instead of pulling her close, he opened the door. She almost fell backwards, but he caught her shoulders. “Sleep well, my little bird.” Lucius walked away, his dark coat blending into the shadows.
Christiana slumped against the doorjamb. The man tugged at her soul, then brought her body to life. He was much too dangerous.
CHAPTER 8
26 December
Lucius tied his cravat, wishing he’d brought along his valet. But once he had convinced Wilkens to give him the invitation, he’d only wasted a moment to tell his sister where he was going. Nettie had urged him to take leave, knowing how long her brother had held a torch for Lady Winfield.
This morning, he had risen early for a hard gallop to work out some of the tension in his body. His dreams were filled with Christiana, and he had woken both mornings in a sweat. Lucius was sure they had made progress last night. He had seen flashes of the girl he’d fallen in love with. The beautiful hard shell she had used to protect herself was cracking. Finally.
Walking toward the dining room, he wondered what Christiana had planned for the day. At the parlor door stood the butler with his arms crossed, telling Lucius that the countess must be inside with a man. A burst of anger shot through him. Or was it jealousy?
“Who is she with?” he asked Jensen.
“Lord Frederick, sir.”
Lucius couldn’t hold back the sneer.
“Exactly, my lord.”
“What kind of game are you playing? Do you know who my father is?”
Lucius and Jensen both lunged for the door, but the pugilist pushed his way through first. He strode across the room and stopped between Christiana and Lord Frederick.
“I suggest you adjust your tone, my lord. My butler is quite sensitive and doesn’t take well to harsh tones,” said Christiana with a faint smile. “To answer your question, of course I know who the Duke of Scuttleton is. Why else would you be here? Regardless of his standing, he’s not entitled to take what is mine.”
“I want to leave, and I will not go without that horse,” hissed Lord Frederick.
“He never liked playing by the rules even as a boy.” Lucius stood next to Christiana, shaking his head at Lord Frederick. “He believes they are for everyone but him.”
“Shut your bloody mouth, Page.” Spittle flew from Lord Frederick’s mouth, his mottled face turning a deep purple above his white cravat. “My father?—”
“Will be very disappointed when you return empty-handed. I would think he’d be used to it by now.” Lucius didn’t move when Lord Frederick lunged toward him. Jensen threw out an arm to block his progress, and the slight man fell to the ground with the small amount of resistance.
“My lord,” said Christiana, rushing to his side and casting an irritated glance at both men still standing. “Are you hurt?”
“Just his pride,” said Lucius, exchanging a grin with the butler. Maybe the mammoth wasn’t so bad after all. They both had Christiana’s safety at heart.
Lord Frederick stood and brushed off his Clarence-blue coat. “I will have that beast if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Don’t tease.” Lucius was enjoying himself too much so early in the day.
“Lord Page, please,” scolded Christiana. “Lord Frederick, why don’t you have something to eat, and we’ll all gather later this afternoon.”
After the enraged man was gone, she turned to both men. “I appreciate being watched over, but taunting a man is beneath both of you.”
