Page 21 of The Scoundrel's Christmas Challenge
“No,” he said with a chuckle, “and just yours, my sweet bird.” Lucius loved how her blush began on her neck and climbed slowly to her cheeks. “My answer is one’s conscience.”
“A very good guess, and one which might work for you but not everyone.” She gave him a quick side-glance. “We both know too many people without one.”
Were they thinking of the same person?
“Cannot talk, but always replies when spoken to,” he murmured, racking his brain for another response. “May I have a hint?”
“You’ll forfeit your point,” she said with a smirk.
“Doesn’t matter, it’s driving me mad. And my pride won’t allow you to just give me the answer.” He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.
“Think of being in a cave.” She grinned. “And calling for me.”
That definitely set his imagination in motion but didn’t help him with the riddle. His fingers began drumming again, and he turned his attention to the crackling flames. “An echo!” he shouted with glee.
Christiana clapped her hands. “Well done! But it’s still two-one in my favor.”
“Now, let’s see…” He snapped his fingers. “What has teeth but cannot bite?”
“Papa’s old hunting dog,” she said, giggling. “No, seriously, a comb?”
“You haven’t lost your sense of humor, I see.” He was glad of it. “Three-one. I’m not doing so well. I’ll have to think of something harder.”
She took a sip of wine, crossed her legs, and rested the glass on top of her knee. “What is always on its way but never arrives?”
“Ha! Tomorrow!” He hit the arm of the chair with his fist, grinning back when she gave a huff at his speedy retort. “Three-two. I’m catching up. Now I must stump you, so I have a chance to tie.”
Christiana placed her glass on the table between him, tucked her feet underneath her, and leaned on the side of the chair with her chin resting on her fist. It felt so right—the two of them sitting together before the fire, chatting the evening away as any married couple might do. It was what he wanted, needed, longed for. And she was within his grasp.
“There are four men on horseback stopped at a crossroads, each going in a different direction. When they all continue their journey, none of them cross paths. How is that possible?”
Christiana closed her eyes, one foot tapping against the arm of the chair as she thought. Once she shook her head, as if eliminating a possibility. “They all turned to the right.”
“Bravo!” He clapped. “Four-two.”
“Why do you still give me a token every November?” she asked, eyes drawn to her skirt as she smoothed the material over her knees.
“Because it’s the month you were born,” he answered cautiously, wondering what her point might be.
“Even after I treated you abhorrently, you can still send me tokens of affection?” Her gaze strayed to the curio cabinet near the hearth.
He could see a few larger objects—vases, he assumed by the shape—and a collection of smaller figures. Were his gifts in there? “Christiana, you weren’t alone in his duplicity. He fooled me too. I had no idea how much…” He needed to choose his words carefully.
“He hated you?” she supplied. Her blue eyes locked with his. “He did, you know. Hated that you had a wonderful family, siblings who watched out for one another. Parents who loved you.”
He nodded. “I know that now. He spat it out, like venom from a hissing snake, the night before your wedding. He considered you the ultimate triumph over me. But I never understood why.”
“Edward was the only surviving child, the heir to the earldom. The pressure on him just to survive was tremendous. His father oversaw every detail of his life once his older brothers had died.” She took a sip of wine, then continued, “There was no civility between his parents, let alone love. He was raised by servants. His father only attended him to give orders and reprimand him for doing something not up to expectations.”
“He told me once he hated his father, then laughed. I assumed they’d had an argument as all fathers and sons do.” Lucius knew he was fortunate growing up in a loving family. “But what does that have to do with me?”
“Everything came so easy for you. Your studies, your confidence. You were excellent in sporting and games, mastering anything you attempted.” She finished her madeira and set the glass down. “Edward, for all his bravado, wasn’t academically inclined. He was berated for subpar grades, was only passable at riding, marksmanship, fencing. He had to work hard to be mediocre at the things you excelled in with little effort. So, he won the item he thought you prized above all else.”
“You.” Lucius was stunned. He had thought Edward simply wanted what he couldn’t have, a spoiled boy who demanded everyone’s toys. But this had been personal. “He almost ruined our lives because he was jealous?”
Christiana nodded, then stood. She walked to the cabinet and opened the door on the right side, reaching in to touch an object with a fingertip. “Why do you say almost ruined our lives?”
“He’s dead and can’t hurt us anymore. We’re here together, and his treachery will never keep us apart again unless…”
