Improper Christmas Read online

  She doubted he shared that part of himself with anyone, though she truly did not know if he had close friends to confide in. She had much to learn of William Pennington.

  Lillian coughed and turned her head as the cough overtook her. Shaking her head after, she took a moment to compose herself. The wind settled in her lungs, cold despite the five-mile walk. Breathing deeply, she swallowed hard but did not cough again.

  Opening the doors, a blast of heat hit her in the face. Surprised, she quickly stripped her long coat and gloves and walked into the main room. People stood everywhere. Lillian blinked at the crush heaving to and fro like a coronation parade.

  “Miss Norwood,” Mr. Spriggs said from her right. He appeared from nowhere, though Lillian found it difficult to find anyone in this mass.

  Behind Mr. Spriggs, someone shouted for him, but he ignored the command and smiled brightly at her instead. “Allow me, um, allow me to take your coat.”

  She blinked at the man. “When did they all arrive?” she asked, her voice cracking on a half-laugh. “Why so many?”

  Spriggs frowned but quickly wiped the expression from his face. “They’re all on the committee now.” He sighed. “And of course they want credit for all the work you and Mr. Pennington have already done.”

  Lillian scowled but schooled her features before anyone other than Spriggs noticed. Some of the joy she felt vanished, but she quickly pushed that away. Was this not always the case? Once the hard work was finished, all manner of people claimed responsibility for its completion.

  “Where is Mr. Pennington?” she asked.

  Before he answered, William exited their back office with a beautiful, and young, woman on his arm. Petite, black-haired, dark-eyed, and very, very beautiful, she laughed up at something he said.

  Lillian blinked. “Who’s that?” she managed before she thought better of it. Her voice sounded strangled to her own ears, and she swallowed hastily.

  Spriggs huffed. “That, um, that is Miss Violet Simmons,” he whispered. “Mrs. Martins’s niece.”

  He opened his mouth to say more then abruptly closed it again. Lillian looked at him, eyebrow raised, and though he looked tempted to blurt out whatever else he wished to say, Spriggs closed his mouth and avoided her gaze.

  “I see.” Lillian nodded, though she really didn’t see. However, she had an inkling. And it made her stomach churn.

  “Miss Norwood!” Alice Miller called from the center of the room. “Do join us over here.”

  She bit back a sigh. Alice sounded as if she controlled everything and Lillian was the one to suddenly join in. Oh, yes, she knew this type of person all too well. Mrs. Miller prattled on about baskets and decorating them and waiting on the bakers, but Lillian ignored most of what she said.

  She knew exactly what stage of their plan they were currently at. Lillian looked to William, who stood with his back to the fireplace, tall and formally stiff as Miss Simmons laughed and smiled up at him.

  She wanted to share the joke with him, share the camaraderie, but he didn’t so much as glance in her direction.

  “We weren’t going to start the baskets today,” she interrupted Alice. “We still don’t know what the bakers have planned to fill the baskets.”

  “Nonsense,” Mrs. Martins said with a wave of her hand. The woman hadn’t been to the hall since that first week. “Nonsense. We’ll decorate them today so they’ll be ready. My darling niece,” she added with a sickening smile, “picked her fingers to the bone gathering all the holly to adorn the baskets.”

  Oh. Oh, yes, Lillian knew exactly what happened here. She swallowed the harsh retort and looked to where William now walked — escorted — Violet Simmons.

  “Is she not a dear, Mr. Pennington?” Mrs. Martins asked with a bright smile and flutter of her eyelashes.

  Back stiff, chin tilted, Lillian watched with cool detachment. Of course. She’d been so happy — too happy, it seemed. She should’ve known, realized, this would happen. Mayhap not this, but something to pierce her happy bubble of contentment.

  William smiled, but she noticed it didn’t reach his eyes. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said and deftly slipped Miss Simmons’s hand from his arm. “Miss Norwood and I have several things to see to with the accounts.”

  Lillian nodded to the group and quickly followed William, all too eager to leave the simpering group of women. William opened the door and held it as she walked through. It surprised her, though Lillian berated herself for her shock, when Mrs. Martins and Miss Simmons entered behind them.

  She sucked in a deep breath and once more held her tongue. She was an expert at that, she thought resentfully. Often holding her tongue, rarely saying what she truly thought or felt.

  The only time she dared speak her mind was to Edmund regarding his fiancée. Looking back upon that interaction, Lillian now knew that had been a mistake.

  Releasing a long, slow breath, she slowly inhaled another. It did nothing to help.

  “Miss Norwood,” Mrs. Martins said with a falsely bright tone. “Seeing as how you have been learning so much from Mr. Pennington regarding these business matters, I thought it’d be a good thing for my niece to gain a bit of insight on how to handle such things.”

  She pressed her lips together to stop the sharp retort. Learned from William? Lillian covered her angry snort with a polite cough. It burned her lungs, but she ignored that.

  “Mr. Pennington, this is the first opportunity I’ve truly had to take in the improvements you’ve made to our hall. Such taste,” she simpered.

  Lillian wanted to roll her eyes. She settled for another covered snort.

  “It truly has elevated our village,” Martins continued. “Thank you so much.”

  “Miss Norwood is to thank for the selections,” William said with a quick look in her direction. She couldn’t quite decipher it; it was there and gone so fast.

  “Oh.” Martins shrugged and barely glanced at Lillian. “Good job, my dear.”

  With a bit more fuss, Mrs. Martins left her niece. The back room was by no means tiny; however, when Miss Simmons stepped closer to William, Lillian thought the room closed in and stuffy.

  Suddenly she did not at all look forward to working on this Christmas feast.

  * * * *

  William growled. He arrived later than usual to discover half the county’s ladies here. As usual, Mrs. Martins led the charge with her typical heavy-handed sword wielding.

  She’d foisted her niece upon him the moment he stepped through the doors. Miss Simmons was pretty enough, and attentive, but she’d yet to offer a reasonable suggestion to their plans, and William bet his horse she hadn’t listened to one word he said about the renovations.

  “Miss Simmons, can you see if we’ve covered all we need for the buffet table?” he asked and shoved papers in her direction.

  William was fairly certain at least one of them contained the menu.

  Miss Simmons took the papers but looked blankly up at him. He smiled, nodded, and turned to Lillian. “Miss Norwood, a word?”

  He didn’t wait for her answer, but took her elbow and steered her to the far corner.

  “These women appeared as if the milliners gave away hats for tuppence,” he muttered. “I know we can finish our task far more efficiently without their assistance, but I’m afraid it won’t be possible to be rid of them.”

  She watched him for a long minute, her hazel-green eyes wide as she studied him. He didn’t like this silence between them; it felt unnatural.

  “Don’t bother yourself with their appearance,” she said.

  But then she paused and smiled, and he felt the air leave the room. Despite that, William felt lighter with the way her lips curved ever so slightly and her eyes brightened.

  “It’s a typical occurrence for such an event.” Lillian’s smile widened, and she offered a slight laugh and shake of her head. It took everything in him not to overtly react to her touch. “We’ve accomplished a great deal here, and that’s what is impo
rtant — that the soldiers have a beautiful hall for their feast.”

  William returned her smile even as he scrambled for more to say. To prolong this moment or build upon what they shared last night.

  Last night he’d wanted to kiss her, and today, despite all that happened and the crowd outside their door, William wanted to kiss her all the more. To feel her lips beneath his, her body pressed close against his.

  Had he made his intentions clear enough to her? Did she know Violet Simmons and her aunt accosted him the instant he stepped foot into the hall?

  “This is all very, very good,” Miss Simmons said from next to them.

  She looked up at him and neatly inserted herself between him and Lillian, ignoring Lillian as if she didn’t even stand in the room. William tried not to scowl.

  “I don’t see anything that could possibly be missing.”

  The door opened and Mrs. Miller popped in, and William released an exasperated sigh. Beside him, Lillian snorted a giggle that turned into a rough cough. He looked down at her, but she turned away, handkerchief to her mouth.

  “Pardon me, Mr. Pennington,” Mrs. Miller said with an apologetic moue. “There’s someone I wish Miss Norwood to meet. I’ve told them all about how well you’ve done here with the hall and Mr. Pennington.”

  Alice Miller trilled out a laugh that made his skin crawl.

  “They’re quite impressed,” she finished and tugged Lillian toward the door.

  Lillian nodded and pulled her arm from Mrs. Miller. With her head held high, she walked out of their office of her own accord. William watched her go, until Miss Simmons casually closed the door behind her. Annoyed, he stepped around her and reopened the door. For propriety’s sake, of course. Not because he wanted to keep an eye on Lillian.

  Then again, he wouldn’t mind being whispered about if he were behind closed doors with Lillian. But most assuredly not with Miss Simmons.

  Cutting his gaze to the other woman, William wondered what the hell he could possibly have her do that made even remote sense.

  “Please organize the papers here,” he said and swept his hand over the table where he and Lillian spent the majority of the last three weeks.

  He had no interest in teaching Miss Simmons anything. Ignoring her completely, William stood on the threshold of the door and looked into the main rooms. Mrs. Miller stood with Lillian and introduced her to Catherine and Evelyn Lansdowne of The Vale, just a few miles from Chesham.

  Tension stiffened his shoulders, and he forcibly unclenched his jaw.

  William didn’t like anything about this introduction — not the fact of it, not the implications, not anything. He knew the Lansdowne sisters. They were nice ladies, active in the villages, supportive patronesses of the hall and the arts. And they ran their last companion out of town.

  Well, ran out of town was a little harsh. But the sisters were demanding, and their previous companion did leave rather abruptly. They expected much of their servants. It was not a position he wanted Lillian anywhere near.

  How did he tell her that? Tell her without creating offense or interfering in her life?

  William paused. Did it matter if he interfered? Would anyone truly know if he had? William wanted more time with her, with only the pair of them together. He enjoyed these last weeks as they worked on the hall.

  Enjoyed it more than anything in a long while. William wasn’t certain why he felt so at ease around Lillian, but she never pushed him. Didn’t overtly flirt with him, didn’t press him for a courtship.

  She did her job far better than any other person he met. More than simply working, Lillian made him laugh. She found humor in everyday things and shared her observations without worry of what others might say.

  They also both enjoyed socializing but, like him, William knew Lillian to be very much a private woman. She never shared her history with others, no matter how they poked and prodded about the rumors swirling about her — not even to stop those rumors.

  But she enjoyed people, taking pleasure in talking to Mrs. Spriggs and leaving midday for a brief outing with the other woman. When she returned, Lillian shared her day with him, drawing him into her life as naturally as… well, as if they shared that life.

  He could so clearly see her as mistress of Pennington Hall. Now, as he watched Lillian graciously speak with the sisters, William realized it went far, far beyond that. Beyond seeing her as a proper wife.

  Last night he wanted to kiss her. That urge had not changed this morning. In fact, he wanted to kiss her more now. Wanted to trace the softness of her cheek with his fingertips and feel her body move against his.

  Shocked at his forwardness, even in the confines of his own mind, William stepped back. But he found it impossible to tear his gaze from Lillian.

  Perhaps they had enough time together. They spent every minute of every day of the last nearly three weeks together. He knew how her mind worked and how generous she treated the staff — the Spriggses, especially. He knew the sound of her laugh and only now realized how often he tried to make her happy simply so he could hear it again.

  Perhaps now was the time to make his intentions clear. He’d been so rigid in propriety since that first careless indiscretion when he suggested they travel to Hyde Heath together — and unchaperoned. Too rigid, William now realized.

  He needed to make his intentions clear to Lillian and hoped she felt the same about him.

  Chapter Seven

  Lillian ignored the chattering around her, not that it made much difference; she wasn’t included in their talk, anyway. That didn’t bother her; though she arrived over a month ago, the villagers still considered her new.

  Alice Miller, however, bothered Lillian. The other woman clearly followed whatever Mrs. Martins told her, and today it was to keep Lillian occupied and as far from William as possible.

  Jealousy sparked deep within her, a hot flush of envy that spread through her. Jealousy and shame. She’d been a fool to think William held any interest in her. The poor relation of an earl, viscount’s granddaughter or not, she had naught to her name and lived off the kindness of Edmund’s steward.

  Lillian swallowed hard. Another cough rattled her chest, and she politely covered her mouth with a lavender-scented handkerchief.

  The Lansdowne sisters paused in their conversation, and she took an extra moment to compose herself and enjoy the silence. They sat with her in a far corner, away from the activity bustling around the hall.

  No, they didn’t sit with her. They pinned her to the seat.

  From her corner, Lillian couldn’t see William; she could only see the sisters and Alice’s back. She wondered if Mrs. Martins ordered Alice to stand guard against Lillian’s escape. The thought made her grin, but it died a quick death.

  She was well and truly trapped. Not even a basket to decorate to keep her busy.

  Sipping her cider, Lillian hoped it’d ease her throat, but nothing seemed to. This corner, so close to the fireplace, felt closed off and stuffy, and the close proximity of the sisters did not help. She needed fresh air, cool air, and tried to think of a believable, and somewhat polite, excuse.

  “Miss Norwood, I’m so delighted we finally get to meet,” Evelyn Lansdowne said with a crafty smile. “Alice Miller has told us so much about you.”

  Lillian doubted that. What did Alice know of her, save Edmund’s steward paid her bills? Then again, wasn’t that damning enough?

  “Has she?” Lillian asked with false brightness. “I’m afraid I’ve only known Mrs. Miller a bare month.”

  “You only need a short while to know the disposition of a person,” Catherine added, as if she and Evelyn rehearsed their conversation.

  Lillian wondered if they had.

  “And dear Mrs. Miller tells us you have a very quiet and patient disposition,” Catherine continued.

  “The very qualities we look for in a companion,” Evelyn finished.

  Oh they rehearsed this, all right — only this wasn’t a conversation. It was a
n interview. Lillian bit back a sigh and coughed again. She cleared her throat and took another sip of her cider in hopes to cool her heated face.

  “We know of your situation,” Catherine commiserated. “Mrs. Miller shared your story with us. And for a woman in your situation, a position such as this is a godsend.”

  Unfortunately, Lillian had the feeling that not only did Catherine and Evelyn Lansdowne — who had both been married but now went by their maiden names — truly feel as if their offer was the best available but that she had no other options. Catherine’s commiseration sounded true and honest, and that only stabbed Lillian harder.

  She didn’t want pity. She wanted to live her own life.

  “You wouldn’t wish to be a burden to Lord Granville’s estate forever,” Catherine continued.

  “No, indeed,” Evelyn added. “This position is not only a proper option for you, my dear, but a way to secure your own future.”

  Seven years she tended her father. Seven years she gave up her life to see to him. One month she had to herself, to see to her own needs and wonder what she wanted in her life. Four short weeks on her own and now her new village wished her gone.

  Lillian sat straighter and tilted her chin just that much more. Her father told her that stubbornness came from her mother, a woman Lillian barely remembered. Right now, with her fingers clasped tightly around her handkerchief and her jaw clenched, Lillian called on every ounce of stubbornness to hold her tongue.

  “Earls can be so very temperamental. And depending upon his kindness, that is not truly security,” Catherine agreed.

  She pushed back a lock of hair and cursed her inability to style her own hair. Lillian pressed her lips together and waited through the conversation — which started to sound more of a sales pitch than interview.

  “With us, you’d have your own rooms and appointments,” Catherine continued. “And I’m certain we can get on very, very well.”