Page 5 of The Scoundrel's Christmas Challenge
Lucius stuck his head out of the coach window. The tiger hopped down to open the black iron gate of the Beecham estate. He never tired of the view when returning home. A long gravel drive led up to a rambling mansion of limestone, its four stories and multiple gables shadowing the courtyard and portico. He knew every inch of the manor and the lands surrounding it. This was his inheritance, and he loved the place almost as much as he loved his family.
“Ready for some breakfast?” he asked his companions.
Fitzjames, a stocky blond fellow of medium height and a constant smile—or smirk, depending on the situation—gave a cheer. “Not used to getting up before the sun rises, Page. I’m usually heading home about then.”
“True enough,” agreed Hawkesbury, his friend who had helped trap Lord Frederick. He was a tall man with reddish hair and blue eyes, fresh out of the army. “It’s beginning to show on your face too. A little more sleep would do you good.”
“I’ll have time enough for that when I’m a doddering old man,” Fitz said with a laugh. “Or when I take a wife.” He added this with a glance at Lucius.
Both men had been invited to Beecham Manor for a few nights on their way to other destinations. But the real reason for the visit was his sister, Nettie. These were two gentlemen who were being considered as possible suitors for her. Fitzjames was the fourth son of a viscount. He had a good allowance and had made wise investments, allowing him to live the life of a gentleman without pursuing a career. Although he was a bit arrogant when it came to the ladies, Fitz was a good and honorable man.
Hawkesbury was the third son of an earl, had just sold his commission, and would inherit a small estate from his mother. He was also Lucius’s pick out of the two, though he called them both friends. Neither would mistreat Nettie. But Fitz laughed at the idea of fidelity and would most likely have a mistress after marriage, where Hawk would never consider being unfaithful once he put on the leg shackles.
Gibbs greeted them at the top of the steps after sending footmen for their luggage. “Good day, Lord Page. It is good to have you home again,” greeted the rotund butler in his typical monotone. “The family is in the breakfast room. Shall I have Cook send up more food?”
Not a mention of their early arrival, Lucius noted with a smile. The man was always perfectly manicured and never flustered. He hoped Gibbs lived forever, for there was no equal to their loyal butler.
“Yes, please. I’m afraid I roused these louts at dawn.” He removed his gloves, greatcoat, and beaver hat, handing them to Gibbs. His ancestors frowned down upon them from the walls of the entryway. To the right were stairs leading to the first floor. “Come, my fine friends, and meet the Pages.”
They entered the breakfast room, and his sister jumped from her seat. The man next to her, a friend of his father, grabbed the chair before it toppled backward.
“Lucius, I’ve missed you so!” squealed Nettie.
Lucius had barely made it through the doorway when he caught her and spun her around. “My sweet sister, I’ve missed you as well. And I’ve brought along some admirers.” He planted a kiss on the top of her umber hair and set her back on her feet.
“May I introduce Mr. Hawkesbury,” Lucius said, indicating the taller man, “and Mr. Fitzjames. You’ve both met my father, Lord Beecham. This is my father’s fiancée, Lady Henney, and his good friend, Viscount Weston.”
Nettie’s eyes widened. “You know Lord Weston?”
“Of course, we’ve met at the club with Father when the Lords are in session,” he answered, turning back to his friends. “And this is my lovely and inquisitive sister, Lady Annette.”
She held out her hand. “It is a pleasure, sirs.”
Lucius noted what appeared to be annoyance cross the viscount’s face. With amusement, he wondered if he’d been mistaken. Could his father’s friend be jealous of the newly arrived suitors? His father cut off Lucius’s thoughts as he quit the table to give his son a slapping hug and shake hands with the new guests. “Welcome! Am I a day off or are you a day early? Doesn’t matter, we’ve plenty of room.”
“I wanted to send word but figured I’d get here on the tail of the messenger, so we thought to surprise you,” Lucius explained, bending over Lady Henney’s hand. “Ma’am, it’s always a pleasure.”
She blushed. “You get your charm from your father.”
“That’s why you love me so,” he teased.
***
23 December 1820
Lucius thoroughly enjoyed watching his friends vie for his sister’s attention. While Hawkesbury would appeal to Nettie’s intellectual side, Fitzjames would be her match for outdoor activities. He had thought it would be entertaining to see who she favored more. But watching the group over the past two days, he’d noticed the glances between Nettie and Lord Weston. The viscount was a friend of Lucius’s father, but they were not of the same age. Weston was younger, though there was still an age difference of close to twenty years between him and Nettie. Yet, there was true affection in their eyes when their gazes met.
He'd learned of the neighboring vicar’s debacle of a visit. Lucius had thought the man was too weak-willed for Nettie, anyway. Hawk was out of the game after mentioning a possible move to India. Nettie would never be so far from her family. That left Weston and Fitz. Lucius would wager on the viscount.
After a rousing game of charades, with Hawk’s clever guesses casting shadows over the slower but good-natured Fitz, the group decided to call it an evening. Lucius snuck down to the kitchen for another spoonful or two of custard. Since he was a boy, Cook had always put away an extra bowl or two for him in their “secret” place. At nine and twenty, he still snuck into the larder to find his stash of the golden sweet pudding.
After his snack, he headed for his room, humming “Good King Wenceslas.” Tomorrow, his brother William would arrive with the final suitor. He hadn’t met the man and wondered how he would compare to Weston and Fitzjames. As he passed the library, he heard a loud thunk. Peeking around the door, he saw Nettie standing over the prone form of Fitz, laughter bubbling from her.
He joined her. “Don’t tell me he tried to kiss my sister, and she showed him her right hook.” He crossed the room and stood beside her.
Annette shook her head as she caught her breath. “No, but he did kiss me.” She wrinkled her nose. “I wasn’t impressed. When he tried for a second, I sidestepped, and here we are.”
Soon, they were both doubled over, wiping the tears from their eyes.
