Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,41

had thought about last night, as he’d bid her good night. He couldn’t avoid her too much and not be considered rude. “I agree.”

“Well, you’ll just have to be discreet about how much time you spend together. Lord Vyne has not left his room in several days, and it is freezing today.”

“So you suspect he might not come out at all.”

Parker nodded. “I could keep watch for Lord Vyne or his man, and warn you if anyone starts lurking if you like.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Hector warned. “I am quite capable of discretion.”

“Suit yourself. But I have to admit that if I were in your shoes, I probably wouldn’t regret having to marry someone like Mrs. Roper under any circumstances. She is very lovely to look at.”

Hector studied the man sourly. “Keep your eyes on the fire.”

“Yes, my lord.” Parker chuckled softly. “I’d suggest you hurry along to that warm room before you catch a chill.”

Hector glanced behind Parker and saw the flames had died out entirely while they’d been conversing. “Yes, I suppose I should go. You’ve somehow managed to put the fire out completely now.”

Parker uttered a curse and then knelt before the hearth to tend the fire again.

Hector left him to it, found gloves and his scarf, and wrapped the latter around his neck for the short journey down the hall. But he found himself rather too keen to be given any excuse to spend time with the delectable Mrs. Roper. She was rather lovely and, if not for the boy, available.

Chapter Eight

A tap at the door woke Ruby from a fitful doze. “Come in?” she called, even as she checked to see what her son was up to. Pip seemed happy with his collection of old toys, but his eyes lit up as Lord Stockwick entered the room.

“Forgive my intrusion, but might I join you? My valet is having a devilishly hard time keeping my fire going in my chamber.”

“Of course, you can,” she promised, rushing to smooth out her skirts. “Please come in and warm yourself by the fire.”

He shut the door behind him and rushed to the fireside, holding his hands to the flames. “Another cheerful, warm day at The Vynes,” he complained sarcastically.

“Yes, it is miserable weather we are having.” Ruby smiled. “I had hoped to take Pip out, but I’m afraid we’d get lost or buried up to our necks in a drift before we’d gone twenty steps into the gardens.”

Stockwick glanced her way and smiled, too. “You’d be all right if you kept to the known paths.”

She laughed. “I haven’t any idea where they might be, or even go under all that snow.”

“I’d find you,” he promised. “But you really should visit again in the summer. The paths are quite extensive. You can go all the way up to the highest ridge. The views take your breath away.”

“You like it here?” she asked, realizing he spoke so fondly of the place.

He shrugged. “I suppose I do. And I’m not one for rusticating.”

“High praise indeed then.” She watched him warm himself by the fire for a while. She’d been hoping she would meet him again today. She found herself almost as restless as her son. And curious about the boy she’d once known and bickered with. She wanted to know if he really had changed--beyond the improvement of his looks. He was much more handsome now than when he’d been a boy. Talking with him also gave her the chance to learn more about society and the common view of world events from a different angle. “Where is your estate located?”

“I don’t have one. I live in London year-round.”

“I thought all titles came with entailed property.”

“Not in my case, which was something of a relief. I never liked the estate my father lived in.”

“Too many bad memories?”

“Not enough good ones,” Hector told her, and then came to sit in a nearby chair. “But I want to hear about you, Mrs. Roper. Where has life taken you in recent years?”

Uncle Vyne had suggested she keep her history to herself, but hiding her marriage went against the grain. “To Scotland, a little village over the border.”

He nodded. “I thought I detected a trace of an accent.”

She put her fingers to her lips in shock. She hadn’t realized her time away from England had affected the way she spoke.

“Don’t worry, I find the inflection charming,” he promised. “The boy’s is stronger, though.”

“I will endeavor to diminish that as soon as possible. I want him to