Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,49

in the dead of winter unless there was something in it for him.”

“I wonder what it could be?”

“No earthly idea, but I wonder if Lord Vyne owes the man, and Blackwood is here to collect an overdue payment.”

“I suppose that might be it.”

Hector drew close. “I guess our lovely afternoons upstairs, snug together, will have to wait until Blackwood departs.”

Ruby frowned. Had he really enjoyed their company so much? “You’ve become a great favorite with Pip. He’ll be disappointed.”

“He’s a clever boy, and his mother, too, has been a delightful companion.” Hector teased his fingers up her arm. “I am glad we had a chance to meet again, Ruby. If not for Blackwood’s arrival, you and I could have had a great deal more fun together this holiday.”

“Fun?”

“Indeed.” He smiled down at her as they walked along. “Don’t deny you’re not still thinking about our kiss, and my offer of a second.”

A second kiss probably should never happen. She was starting to like Hector a bit too much as it was.

They reached the door side by side, and Ruby immediately saw her uncle and a dark-haired stranger seated before the fire. Mr. Blackwood’s face, when he turned in her direction, appeared hard. Ruby glanced at her uncle for guidance, and he smiled warmly at her.

Ruby edged a little closer to Hector.

Chapter Eleven

Samuel Blackwood was a man of similar age to Hector, but taller and broader in the chest, and with fists that had bruised any number of scoundrel’s faces. He owned a notorious gambling hell in London, which is where Hector had first encountered the man.

Meeting and kissing the man’s sister had been a grave mistake on Hector’s part. He’d had no idea who she was when they’d tangled tongues in Drury Lane Theatre. The last fellow who’d pursued the fetching Molly Blackwood with amorous intent was still taking all his meals in liquid form.

The only thing to Hector’s advantage was that it had been only one kiss—well, two, since she’d kissed him back—and after learning her identity, Hector had never sought out Molly Blackwood again. He’d also given up gambling at Blackwood’s establishment to avoid antagonizing the man.

But there was a chance that Molly Blackwood might have told her big brother all about him.

Well, he’d better get it over with and face his punishment like a man.

He strolled into the library with Ruby close by his side, hoping for the best. “Good morning,” he called to both occupants of the room.

Ruby curtsied and murmured the same.

He noted that Lord Vyne did not rise to greet them, which seemed rude. “Ah, I was just about to send for you, Niece,” Lord Vyne said to her. “Lord Stockwick.”

“My lord.” He bowed and then looked at Blackwood. “Sir. It’s good to see you again.”

Blackwood frowned. “I don’t believe we are acquainted.”

Hector was taken aback. “Lord Hector Stockwick.”

Blackwood’s face showed no recognition whatsoever. “A pleasure to meet you, my lord,” he said.

Hector nodded. Could it be true that Blackwood did not recognize him? Was it also possible that Molly had not shared their encounter as well? “So, what brings you to Derbyshire?”

Blackwood smiled quickly and glanced at Ruby, a question in his eyes.

Lord Vyne smiled, too. “Ah, yes. Mrs. Roper, this is a very good friend of mine, Mr. Samuel Blackwood. Ruby is my brother’s eldest daughter, and a widow. She has recently come to stay at The Vynes.”

Hector noted Vyne did not mention Ruby had a son upstairs.

“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” Ruby murmured, dipping the man a curtsy.

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you,” Blackwood promised.

“Do join us,” Lord Vyne said. “You too, Stockwick. Sit yourself down over there.”

Ruby perched at her uncle’s side by the fire, and Hector was relegated to a seat slightly farther away. Lord Vyne spared him just one glance and then directed all of his attention upon Blackwood and Ruby.

Hector didn’t mind the cold shoulder. It gave him time to observe the excruciating politeness on display in front of him. Vyne was intent on ingratiating himself with Blackwood. It could only mean the earl owed Blackwood money, and it probably wasn’t a trifling amount, either.

Vyne turned to Ruby. “Blackwood has been telling me he’s taken possession of an estate not far from here,” he told Ruby.

“Longlean,” Blackwood murmured.

“A thousand acres of fertile soil and a grand manor to live in,” Vyne claimed in tones of wonder and not a little envy.

Blackwood’s lips twitched. “Not as grand as The Vynes yet, perhaps, but I do