Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,39

“Should you require anything within our power, the servants of The Vynes are at your disposal. Please use the bells of the house next time.”

In other words, no more browbeating the servants into bringing her downstairs again. It wasn’t a surprising request. By rights, Ruby ought to have kept to the upper floors where the family normally would spend all of their time. “Perhaps next time I have a question, the maids might simply do me the courtesy of telling me what I need to know.”

The housekeeper inclined her head.

The maid was waiting beside the servants’ stairs and led her back up to the entrance hall without another word. They parted ways upstairs, not far from Ruby’s chamber.

If her aunt was not here, and her cousins were not here, but on their way, she was in for a cold and lonely Christmas indeed, worrying over who her uncle might want her to marry in exchange for his help.

“You only had to look in this room to learn I was telling the truth,” Lord Stockwick said suddenly, startling her out of her wits. He was standing just down the hall, his hand on a door latch. He pushed the door wide and stepped back with a smile. “The countess’ chamber is right here, just down from yours.”

Ruby wet her lips and hurried forward, sweeping past him to see for herself. She entered a room covered in white cloths and so cold, she shivered.

“They’re all like that. Cold and closed up,” Lord Stockwick promised.

Ruby didn’t remember this chamber.

Hector went to a wall and tugged on a white cloth draped over a picture frame, showering himself in the dust. He uncovered a portrait of her aunt as Ruby remembered her looking years go.

Hector cursed softly, batting at his sleeves and dusty hair. “I should have known that would happen,” he complained, and then he sneezed. “She hasn’t lived in this room for ten months or more.”

“The servants have been neglectful.”

“The servants were probably ordered to shut up the room and forget the countess even existed.” Hector shook his head. “He’s a spiteful, nasty man, your uncle. You’d best be cautious of him and whatever plans he has for you.”

“Why do you think he has plans for me?”

“I have been Clement’s confidant for many years. Vyne makes plans for everyone in his family and cares little what you all think of them, so long as he has his way.”

Distressed by that remark, Ruby went to the window and drew back the drape to look out. This room was at the front of the house, overlooking the drive. The best view, she thought. Lord Vyne’s bedchamber was on the other side of the house in a similar position of importance. “What do you suspect he is planning for me?”

“I don’t know, which makes me suspicious. Last year he made a wager with his son. Dangling freedom for Lady Vyne and her children if he wed within three months. He’d even gone so far as to pick out the bride, too.”

“But didn’t you say Clement married your sister?”

“A mistake in the wording of the wager that I don’t think he’ll make again. Clement married my sister because he fell in love with her, winning the wager true—but not how Lord Vyne intended things to turn out.” Hector scrubbed his jaw. “You said you were Mrs. Roper now?”

Ruby always hated when people questioned her marital status. “Yes. I’m a widow,” she admitted.

“Ah, then you ought to be careful you don’t find yourself married again too quickly,” he warned. “Vyne is not above using his own family to settle his debts with an advantageous match that profits him more than you.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t do that to me,” she lied, knowing full well she had put her future in her uncle’s control.

Hector shrugged. “Suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when the next arrival at The Vynes turns out to be a bachelor in want of a wife.”

She looked at him curiously. “Are you married?”

His eyes narrowed. “No, and I intend to stay this way for a long time to come,” he promised before excusing himself and sauntering back out into the hall.

Chapter Seven

Hector was rudely awakened by the clang of a fire poker striking the hearth. “Do you have to do that now?”

“Sorry, my lord,” Parker apologized. “The fire needs to be relit.”

Hector pulled himself up from his warm bed and scowled at his valet. “Why did you let it go out in the first