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The earl folded the letter, placed it in his top pocket, and turned to face him. “I did not expect you to travel down because of the weather. I know you have little patience for house parties and the sort.”

“We’ve always spent Christmas together.”

His father, still a handsome man in his prime, smiled. “We

do, my boy, but I still thought you would have sent down some excuse to not attend.”

Graham took another sip of his brandy. “Your letter warranted me making the trip.”

His father cast him a probing, considering glance. “You are familiar with our neighbor, Lady Danby, and her two daughters?”

A vague image floated through his thoughts, then a pair of bright brown eyes and a dimpled smile came into sharp focus. Ah yes…he’d met a Miss Callie Middleton several months’ earlier. She had been walking through the woods, which abutted their estate. Though she had been in a simple white day dress adorned with a yellow ribbon, her prettiness had stuck him. He’d watched for several minutes, charmed by the animation of her features as she’d read her book. Her face had expressed a unique reaction with each page she’d turned—a furrow of brows, irritation perhaps, then that biting of her bottom lip as if nervous, then that wide smile. At one point, she had gasped, screamed a bit, and pressed the book to her chest, and the happiest of sighs had escaped her. That oddity had amused and charmed Graham.

The young lady had looked up then, and her eyes had ensnared him with their expressive beauty. She had dipped into a curtsy; unaware he had watched her for near thirty minutes. He’d tipped his hat in a polite gesture and walked away. When he’d glanced back, she had stood there, staring at him, her face one of surprised contemplation. He’d seen her a few times since then in the village, but he had made no effort of introducing himself.

“Are you referring to the widowed viscountess?”

A flush worked itself over his father’s cheekbones, and he glanced into the fire. “A most…pleasant, and amiable woman, if I’ve ever met one. And kind with such considerate manners. And so beautiful.”

That bit resonated with such reverence, Graham sat straighter in the high wingback chair. “I see. And it is her you are wondering if you should…make your new countess?”

His father sighed. “I suppose you think I am a fool over love.”

Graham winced. The very words he had roared at his father a few years ago when the earl had planned to offer for another woman, Lady Fairclough. Graham had struggled to understand how his father had considered marrying at least three different women in the last ten years. It seemed a bit inconstant to Graham. With each new lady love, the earl informed his children of his intentions, making them a full part of his decision-making. With each failed arrangement, his father had kept searching, and it seemed his entire concentration was on getting married.

It had baffled Graham, for his father already had his heir and a beloved daughter. What use was marriage to the earl at this stage? Then he’d realized his father was lonely and wanted more than just the comfort of a mistress to warm his bed. The shock of that awareness had left Graham restless for weeks, and he had tried to spend more time with his father and ignored the pursuit of frivolities in Town. He’d been at his father’s side for the last several months learning estate management and helping him with his motions for the opening of Parliament. He’d recently taken over most of the duties of the earldom, leaving his father to live a more leisurely life and to be assured that when Graham inherited, all would be well.

But he had still sensed his father’s dissatisfaction with life. “I do not think you are a fool father…you are simply searching for something.” Something that I want you to find.

A singularly attractive smile crossed the earl’s face. “And I believe I have found it.”

“You have?”

His father’s features softened even more. “Yes! She is wonderful, and I am certain she is the one for me.”

Graham grimaced. “So you have said…at least twice before.”

His father flinched, and regret burned in Graham’s gut. Surging to his feet, he stepped toward him. “Father, that was tactless—”

His father held up a hand, cutting off his words. “No. This time…” the earl took a deep breath. “This time…it is like how it was with your mother. Maybe even deeper.”

Guilt and something unfathomable darkened his father’s blue eyes. Graham relaxed his fingers, which had tightened around his glass. Never had his father compared the women he’d courted to the great love he’d had for Graham’s mother. He was unsure how to feel about it. “I see.”

His father cleared his throat. “I would like you and Emma to spend time with Amelia…Lady Danby.”

Spend time with the viscountess? His father had never requested such a thing before. It flummoxed Graham for several moments. “Is our approval necessary, father?”

A sight frown creased the earl’s face. “No, but I would still like to hear my children’s valued opinions. If…if it works out, she will also be a part of your life and Emma’s.”

Graham nodded, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “And the note?”

His father hesitated before plucking it from his pocket and handing it to Graham. He scanned the letter asking for a clandestine meeting. An elegant flowing script scrawled the words, but it was not signed. Whoever it was, wanted his father to meet them in the conservatory in less than an hour. That hint of deception had anger curling through his gut. Why did it not similarly annoy his father?

Who are you?

“We are at a house party. I hardly think such subterfuge necessary,” he scoffed, rather irritated with the author. “Surely you must suspect their reason for wanting such a meeting.”

The earl seemed contemplative. “Someone…a skilled waif, slipped this note in my pocket! How alarmed and intrigued I was to find it. Except I…I am uncertain the author of this note is who I am dearly hoping it is!”


Tags: Stacy Reid Romance