Page 10 of The Scoundrel's Christmas Challenge
“I want you to know I do not give a fig if my husband wins or not. This is such a clever game. Do all these men want that strip of property for hunting?”
Christiana laughed. “No, each contestant wants something different from me. I’ve grown weary of the constant attention and thought this would be an entertaining way to end it.”
“What else is on the table?”
“An antique, a horse, and two slate mines.”
“Ooh, let me see if I can match the prize with the man.” Lady Elwood tapped her lips with her pointer finger. “The young man, Lord Frederick, wants the horse. He seems the type who would ride a poor beast until it dropped.” Her brown eyes widened. “I didn’t mean to insult the man. But a weak man will always take his frustrations out on those below him, especially women and animals.”
Christiana nodded. “He is here for the horse, though it’s his father who has been pestering me for it. And the reason you mentioned is exactly why I outbid the duke.”
“You bought the beast at auction? Such courage, going on your own like that.” She patted Christiana’s hand. “I like you more and more, my dear. Now, what do Lords Page and Bentson want? Hmm.”
In truth, Christiana wasn’t sure either. Although Lucius said he was here for Sir Horace, she couldn’t understand how it had come about. How did he know the baronet? Why would the man trust Lucius to negotiate for the slate mines?
“I could see Bentson wanting either prize,” decided Lady Elwood. “But if I had to choose, I would say he was more the collector at his age.”
“You are very clever. And Lord Page is here for the mines.”
Lady Elwood looked over Christiana’s shoulder. “If that’s what you want to tell yourself, my dear.”
“Ladies,” called Lucius from the doorway, the butler behind him. “The gentlemen are waiting in the billiards room.”
Lady Elwood followed Mr. Jensen down the hall, leaving her alone with Lord Page.
Horse feathers! Lucius had taught her billiards. He would surely win this contest, and she’d been so sure the party would start with a victory for her.
To her surprise, he retrieved the red card from his pocket. “Would you like me to pass on this one?”
“Only if you want to,” Christiana said airily, as if it really didn’t matter. As she went to pass him, his hand on her arm stopped her.
Lucius reached inside his coat and pulled out a sprig with a berry on it, holding it above her head. “I brought this from home.”
She peered above her, then at him, then at her velvet slippers. “Lord Page…” But in that heartbeat of hesitation, he slanted his head and brushed his lips across hers. A lightning strike straight to the heart. Her body tingled, right down to the good bits. She blinked, looking up at him, her mouth open.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I would like to challenge you to a private competition. Each one will begin at the stroke of midnight. Tonight, meet me in the kitchen.”
His deep-green eyes searched hers, his gaze sweeping over her face as if memorizing it. Then one hand cupped her cheek, and he kissed her again. This time, he pulled her close with his free hand, and Christiana knew she would have melted into a puddle if he hadn’t held her so tightly. It was over as quickly as it had begun—without warning. She was vaguely aware of his chuckle, but when she opened her eyes, he was gone.
Standing there for a few minutes, her fingers on her lips, she tried to remember the last time she had felt any kind of passion. It had been so long. But now her body was a roiling tempest, and she could only pray to weather this storm building inside her.
CHAPTER 5
Midnight in the kitchen
Lucius sat in a wooden chair before the large, scarred table in the kitchen. He had a way with cooks, and his charm had worked again tonight. The delightful lady, Mrs. Harding, was happy to be his accomplice.
The fire from the large cooking hearth spread a golden glow about the room. Rosemary, garlic, and lavender hung from the beams in a corner of the kitchen, their faint scents mixing together sweetly. A candle, next to a bottle of madeira and two glasses, flickered on the table, casting dancing shadows across the walls. On a side table were fresh biscuits and orange slices.
“Do not think I came only because you ordered me to.” She stood in the doorway, her hair pulled back, a simple black gown on with a thick wool shawl. “But I have questions.”
“Yes, I thought you might.” He stood and held out a hand. “I promise, no more hidden mistletoe. Unless you bring it.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Will you get me foxed and have your way with me?”
He barked out a laugh. “Tempting as it sounds, no. Please, sit.” He held out a chair and pushed it in slightly as she settled into it. He resumed his seat beside her. “I thought we’d play a game of Truth or Lie.”
“What does that involve?” One hand fisted her shawl close to her chest, the other lay clenched in her lap. “And how did you come by my invitation?”
