But, then, one blessed with her flawless face and figure had no need to resort to artifice or fashion to attract men’s attentions.
Even though the neckline of her gown was not especially low, he was well aware of the sweet swell of her breasts. She was every inch a woman.
A most appealing woman.
But he was intent on despising her.
She left enough room between them to have fit another person. “I haven’t had port since my husband died.”
“I’m surprised my father wasn’t forcing you to drink with him each night. He did love his port.”
Her lashes lowered in a fleeting look of sorrow. “At the time I was here, his physician had forbidden him to partake. It was a source of great annoyance to your poor father.”
“I can well imagine. Papa did love his brandy and port.” He poured her a glass and handed it to her, his hand grazing hers. Once again, she had that same effect upon him that youthful beauties did when he was transitioning from Eton to Oxford. What had gotten into him?
“How long have you been a widow?” he finally asked.
“Since Stevie was four. He’s eight now.” She shrugged. “My husband and I were apart more than we were together during our marriage. He was an officer in the Guards.”
“In the Peninsula?”
She nodded solemnly.
“Killed in battle?”
“Yes.” She took a sip, peering at him over the rim of her glass. “I wanted to tell you how badly I felt for you when I learned your father had left me Darnley.”
Anger surged through him as quick as a flame. The conniving woman had to be lying!
He wasn’t about to let her see his vulnerability. He shrugged. “I have other properties.”
“But I know how much Darnley meant…means to you.”
“And you know this because…?”
“Because your father told us.”
He could not keep the anger from his voice. “If my father knew this, one wonders why he would not give it to me.”
“I’ve wondered the same thing.” Her voice was gentle.
Oh, she was most convincing! He could see how she could have bewitched his father. His soft-hearted father.
There were so many things he wished to know about her mysterious relationship with his father. But he was too proud to question her further.
Another perplexing question was Mrs. Ballard’s affection toward Mrs. Milne. Was that because Mrs. Milne was her new mistress? Mrs. Ballard had always been one to display her likes and dislikes as openly as the mobcap on her head. If she disliked someone, she was incapable of being gracious to them. It was obvious she held her new employer in the highest regard.
Which was just one more indicator of what an accomplished Schemer Mrs. Milne must be.
After she took another sip, Mrs. Milne set down her glass and faced him. “I understand there must be many things at Darnley you wish to claim—things you have every right to possess—and I have no objections whatsoever to you doing so.”
“I suppose you’ll be moving in your own things.”
Colour rose into her high cheekbones. She really was a stunner.
“I’m embarrassed to admit I have no furnishings. We always resided in rented lodgings. Peter and I were going to settle in a real home after the war. But, I assure you, Stevie and I are accustomed to doing with very little. Please, feel free to remove whatever you wish.”
“I hadn’t really thought things through. I will own, I hadn’t wanted to come here this Christmas. It stung that my father slighted me in the will in regards to Darnley.”
Her brows formed a deep crease. “I feel dreadful about that. I know your father would have, too. He loved you dearly. Not a day went by he did not joyfully discuss you—and with such pride! As a parent myself, I understand how totally devoted he was to you, his only son.”
He was left speechless, and a long silence followed.
“I wonder why you did come for Christmas,” she finally said.
“I received a letter written by my father shortly before he died. In it, he made one last request. He asked that I come here for Christmastide.”
Now she was silent for a long while. “It seems a strange request for your father to have made after giving Darnley away.”
“I thought so, too.”
“But you cannot deny your father was a very clever man.”
“Agreed.”
“He never did anything that was not well thought out.”
“I do agree, but I cannot understand this last request.”
“We must defer to your father’s judgment. Perhaps by the end of Yuletide, it will all make sense.”
She was making sense. He nodded.
“I wanted to thank you for filling in for me while my ankle is preventing me from taking Stevie out of doors. It means so much to him—being outside as well as decorating for Christmas. Last Christmas here was the happiest Christmas he’s ever experienced.” She shrugged. “I appreciate your kindness to him—and to me.”
“He’s a good lad. I enjoy being with him.”
“You remind me so much of your father. He was such a kindly man.”
He felt ashamed.
Chapter Four
Mrs. Milne stood at the top of the staircase holding onto her cane and looking down. David thought she was having difficulty finding her balance. He could envision her slender body plummeting to her death. He rushed forward and clasped a hand to her arm. “I beg that you permit me to assist you!”
One hand at the rail, the other clutching the cane, she turned to stare at him, a puzzled look on her pretty face. He noted that she wore the same faded blue dress she’d worn the night before. “I’m sure I can manage, my lord.”
“I’d rather not witness a mishap. Pray, please put down the cane.”
She gave him another querying look.
He removed the cane, propped it against the nearest wall, and then gathered her into his arms and proceeded to descend the stairs.
More than the sensation of slightness, he was once again intoxicated by her nearness, by her sweet rose scent, by the very feel of her. Why the devil did this woman have to have such an effect upon him?
He went straight to the morning room where breakfast offerings were laid out on a sideboard, and he settled her at a chair before the intimate table there. Then he pulled out the chair beside her. “Here, you can put your foot on this one.”
“Thank you.” She slid her kid slipper onto the chair.
He stood there watching for a moment. “How does your ankle feel this morning?”
“Actually, it’s better than it was yesterday. I believe the swelling has subsided a good bit. It’s very kind of you to ask—and to be so helpful. I’m…unaccustomed to such kindness.”
“It’s nothing.” He shook away her praise. “Please, stay seated. I’ll get your food. You prefer tea or coffee?”
“Tea, please. And all I require is a single piece of toast.” That she ate very little was evidenced by her slimness.
Her effusive gratitude when he brought her tea and toast made him feel the ultimate scoundrel.
He went back and filled his own breakfast plate. Her dainty appetite was more than made up for by his and that of her son, who soon joined them and happily piled his plate with toast, cold meat, hard-cooked eggs, and mounds of jelly.