An Icy Christmas Engagement (Christmas Matches of Worth #1)

Chapter Eleven

“Lord Colenhurst.” Linton’s voice sounded on the other end of Cedric’s office door. Cedric didn’t respond, knowing that his secretary would simply enter the room if he did not receive a verbal response.

Just as he’d expected, the door opened and he stuck his head in, looking around before coming in fully.

“You have a visitor, my lord,” he announced, his voice uncertain. Cedric couldn’t blame him. Standing by the window with his hands clasped behind him like an imposing statue was bound to strike fear into Linton’s heart.

“Who is it?” Cedric asked, turning slightly to look at him. “Mr. Thatcher?”

“No, my lord. A Mr. Ambrose Sinclair.”

Cedric’s heart sank. It has been days since he’d last seen Ambrose and he was the last person on earth he wanted to speak to right now. Not when his mind was in such turmoil.

But there must be a reason Ambrose came to see him at his office. Cedric only hoped that it had nothing to do with that insane proposal to marry his daughter.

“Show him in,” he told Linton, who nodded and left immediately to do just that.

Cedric stayed by the window, staring out at the unusually empty Bond Street. It was a particularly cold day, which he could only assume was the reason there weren’t many people out and about. Which of course brought his mind back to Lady Winterbourne and their odd first encounter. Not to mention when he’d seen her yesterday.

He was thinking of the fact that he’d gone to Gunter’s in the hopes that he would stop thinking about her and he’d run into her instead. Between that and his run in with Simon and Isabella, Cedric had been in no mood to do any more work. He’d gotten his ice—which did very little to cheer him up—and headed home to sleep off the rest of the day .

Which meant that he had to put in twice the work today. If only that persistent hazel-eyed lady would leave his thoughts alone.

Thankfully, he was distracted from them by Ambrose’s entrance. The portly man swaggered in with his arms clasped behind him, looking around the room with a scrutinous eye.

“Ambrose,” Cedric greeted, heading over to him. “It has been a while.”

“Yes, that is true.” Ambrose accepted Cedric’s hand. “I wondered if I might have scared you away after our last conversation.”

“Certainly not,” Cedric told him, though he didn’t like how close to the truth Ambrose was. “I simply had a number of matters on my plate to deal with.”

“Yes, so I have come to realise.” As if he could no longer manage standing, he flopped into a nearby armchair. “I hear that one of your shipments has gone missing.”

Cedric’s blood ran cold. The last thing he’d wanted was for news about what happened to reach others in the business. Not only was it bad publicity but he was certain that others would do whatever they could to take advantage of the vulnerability.

“How did you hear that?” Cedric asked slowly, knowing better than to deny it.

“I have many ears and eyes in the industry, Cedric,” Ambrose stated offhandedly. “It was only a matter of time before it got back to me. I must say though, I am disappointed that you were not the one to tell me. I thought we had developed an understanding with each other.”

Cedric knew better than to believe those words. But he also knew how to play the game.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I had hoped to take care of the matter on my own.”

“With a missing shipment, I do not think it is a matter you are capable of taking care of on your own. You’re going to need my help.”

“What help can you offer me?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Ambrose didn’t respond right away. His eyes fell on the sideboard instead. “Is that a bottle of port I spy? ”

Sensing what he was asking for, Cedric made his way over to the sideboard to fetch the port and two glasses. He had no intention of drinking however, despite the fact that he poured himself one.

He watched as Ambrose swished and tasted the wine on his tongue, swallowing loudly. Cedric tried to hold on to the last vestiges of his patience.

“Lovely port,” he commended. “Yes, quite lovely.” Then he set it down and cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I do think I would be able to help you.”

“In what way?”

“I could provide you with two of my ships to make up for the loss you incurred and then some money as a small grant to allow you to staff it.”

Cedric waited for the rest of it. When it was clear that no more would be coming, he frowned. “You would give me two ships and enough money to find crews for them without anything in return?”

Ambrose sipped his wine. “Now I didn’t say anything about that.”

Cedric tensed. He didn’t bother to say anything, just waited.

“I’m sure you recall our last conversation,” Ambrose went on, eyes boring into Cedric. “Regarding my daughter.”

It took every ounce of Cedric’s strength to keep from groaning aloud. “I do.”

“This is all contingent upon the fact that we become a family, of course. I would not do such a generous thing for anyone else. But last time, I received no certain answer on what you thought of my idea to join families.”

Even though Cedric originally had no intention of drinking the wine, he couldn’t help downing half the glass now as he racked his brain for something to say.

Still at a loss, he set the cup down and made a show of topping up Ambrose’s wine, knowing that the other man was watching him carefully.

At last, he said, “I do think it would only make sense to be so kind to one you intend to make family. ”

“So we are on agreement on this matter?” Ambrose asked with a raised brow.

Cedric wasn’t about to fall for that. “I think I have much evaluating to do, especially considering the fact that the loss within my business may have become public knowledge.”

Ambrose drained his glass and got to a stand. “Understandable,” he said. “If I were in your position, I would be jumping at any opportunity I get to scrape myself out of this mess. But then again, I would never be in such a position.”

Cedric nearly let his sneer go free. “Of course. And because of my position, I am unfortunately not able to host you for much longer.”

“Get right to work then, Cedric. It would be such a shame to see this legacy come to an end.”

Ambrose chuckled to himself and Cedric had to resist the urge to grab the man by his lapels and throw him out the door. He escorted him there instead, managing only to keep his face still even though he knew he should offer a polite smile. That was what Harrison would have wanted him to do, after all.

Cedric let the facade fall the moment Ambrose was out the room. He sighed, thinking back on Ambrose’ offer.

It was tempting. Very tempting. Even though Cedric did not like taking hand-outs, he knew better than to put his pride over his business. He wasn’t the only one at stake here after all. The livelihood of his employees depended on getting himself out of this situation.

And Cedric was beginning to think that he was incapable of doing so on his own.

***

Caroline kept her portfolio tucked securely within her coat as she hurried through the foggy streets of London. It would be much harder to see Mr. Holloway’s publishing house with her limited vision, so she relied heavily on her natural sense of direction.

She had a pep in her step today, simply because she had written so much since her last meeting with the publisher that she was beginning to think that she would make the deadline. Not to mention the fact that she had been so inspired lately that much of her writing was borderline perfect, though she knew that Mr. Holloway was bound to find some fault or other.

She found the heavy knocker in the dense fog and knocked eagerly. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal the gruff Mr. Holloway.

Caroline slipped into the warm space without waiting, pulling her portfolio out. “I have made much headway,” she told him happily as she made her way over to the fireplace. “I’m sure you’re going to enjoy it.”

“You should not make it a habit of entering someone’s establishment without invitation,” he grumbled as he approached from behind.

“You say that every time,” Caroline pointed out.

“Because you continue to do it.” He took the portfolio she held out to him and paused, eyebrows raising slightly. “This is markedly thicker than the last time.”

“That is because I have done nothing but write since you last saw me,” she said with a broad grin. She leaned towards the fire, warming her fingers. “Pray, indulge yourself in the reading of it, and share your thoughts with me thereafter.”

Mr. Holloway sank into the other chair by the fire and began to read. Caroline paid more attention to the fire than she did him, even though his silence put her on edge. She had a lot of confidence in what she had written but that didn’t mean it was objectively good. And it didn’t mean it was publishable.

It didn’t help that Mr. Holloway’s face never gave anything away. The long silence that ensued the moment he began reading only lessened Caroline’s confidence and increased her anxiousness.

“It’s good.”

She gasped dramatically, a smile stretching across her face. “Do you truly think so?”

Mr. Holloway smiled somehow without moving his lips. “Far better than the last time, I must admit. And at the rate you’re writing, you just may meet the deadline. I must say, I didn’t have much faith in you.”

“Don’t speak too soon,” she said quickly. “Though I am confident that I will meet your deadline. ”

“You don’t sound confident,” he pointed out. He handed her the portfolio. “The tone in your writing sounds far more passionate than before. What changed?”

“I simply came across some inspirations, that’s all.” She had many people to credit to that. Her time at the orphanage with the children, her scenic morning walk through Hyde Park with Lord Sotheby. Not to mention the man who had inspired her male protagonist in the first place.

“Continue like this and we just might make it then. However,” Mr. Holloway got to his feet and made his way over to his desk, “that isn’t to say there aren’t any revisions to be made.”

Caroline watched as he reached for his quill and began scribbling over what she’d written. She didn’t mind half as much. It was markedly less corrections than previous occasions after all.

She turned her attention back to the warm, crackling fire, a soft smile on her lips. It was possible, she realized. She hadn’t wanted to give in to the negative thoughts and doubts before but now they had completely vanished, leaving nothing but anticipation. For the conclusion of her book, for this new publication, everything.

At last, Mr. Holloway was done with his revision and handed back her unfinished manuscript with a grunt of farewell. Caroline didn’t mind it at all and left his office with that pep still in her step. Even though she plunged right into a fog so thick she could hardly see two paces before her, it did nothing to dampen her mood.

The street was eerily quiet. Caroline didn’t notice it until she was well on her way. She pulled her coat closer, a chill of unease running down her spine.

It was quiet and it felt as if someone was watching her.

She glanced over her shoulder, a useless feat considering the fact that she could hardly see anything. But the sensation didn’t abate. She kept away from the street, her head down and her eyes strained for any movement. Her heart began to pound as she thought of a pair of large hands reaching out to grab her in the midst of the fog.

You’re simply overthinking , she told herself as she hurried along. Your mind is far too active as of late .

Between daydreaming about the Earl of Colenhurst and thinking about how to progress in her book, Caroline’s mind was never at rest. She wouldn’t be surprised if that was the cause of her apprehension.

Still, she didn’t relax until she saw the steps of Louisa’s townhouse come into view. She quickened her pace, keeping her head down but her eyes alert as she hurried up to the front door. Caroline didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until she was safely within.

“There you are!”

That relief disappeared the moment her mother’s shrill voice echoed throughout the foyer. Caroline immediately tensed. Why did she always happen to return just as her mother was passing by?

Elizabeth flew down the staircase, lodging herself to Caroline’s side in excitement. “At this rate, I will begin to think that you do not enjoy spending your mornings with your mother. You are always gone by the time I come down for breakfast and it is already midday. We’ve wasted so much time already.”

Caroline’s heart sank. She didn’t fight it when Elizabeth began to steer her towards the drawing room. “Where is Louisa?” she asked.

“Oh, I think she may be in the gardens doing that infernal digging of hers. I cannot ever understand it.”

Caroline didn’t fight her on the comment, especially since she agreed to an extent. Gardening during the summer sounded like a splendid pastime. Fighting with the cold hard ground in the bitter wintery months sounded like torture.

But she would much rather that fate than to endure whatever scheme her mother had conjured up now. And she knew she had. The twinkle in Elizabeth’s eyes was unmistakable.

“Don’t get too settled in,” Elizabeth told her as she sat down. “We will be heading back out shortly.”

“For what purpose?” Caroline asked warily.

Elizabeth blinked innocently. “Did I not say? How odd.”

Caroline didn’t find it odd at all, but she neglected to say anything.

“Well, I will be having a dinner party this evening. Just a simple affair, of course, given our…circumstances.” She waved her ha nd as if to gesture to their surroundings. “But it will be quite festive and in celebration of the season. I think it would be best if we got you a new dress to match the occasion.”

Caroline sighed heavily. “I have no need for another dress, Mother. I have more than enough. Ones that I have never worn either.”

“I will have to be the judge of that. They may be terribly outdated and I do not want to risk anything that might chase Lord Sotheby away.” Elizabeth paused. “Did I mention that he will be in attendance? Well, I do not need to since that fact is a given.”

“I sincerely doubt Lord Sotheby cares about today’s fashion, Mother,” Caroline said wearily.

“That is not a risk I am willing to take.” Elizabeth paused, tilting her head to the side. “You do not look very excited.”

“Well, I had been hoping to have a quiet evening but it seems those plans will not come to fruition.”

“Oh, I know how much you enjoy your quiet evenings,” Elizabeth said. “I could leave you alone for the entire day as long as you had your books and you were so determined to read no matter how hard I tried to get you interested in other things.”

“I’m sure you will be saddened to know that that habit has not died,” Caroline mumbled but Elizabteh shook her head.

“Not saddened. It is who you are.” She reached forward, taking Caroline’s hand. “You do understand that I am only doing this for your own good, right?”

Caroline squeezed her mother’s hand, softening. “But I do not need this.”

“Yes, you do,” Elizabeth insisted. “Everyone needs someone they can lean on.”

“I have you. And Louisa.”

“And we can only offer so much. There are things that a husband will be able to offer that a friend and mother would not be able to.”

Caroline saw no more reason to protest. Her mother would not be dissuaded and it certainly didn't help that she wasn’t wrong. There were things only a husband would be able to provide. But Caroline didn't have much faith that she would receive those things if she married. She was much better off alone with her freedom .

Unbidden, Lord Colenhurst appeared in her mind. She thought of the way she’d felt dancing in his arms, the world around her disappearing to nothing. Caroline let her mind wander to what it would be like to be the earl’s wife. Would he scowl at the world and save a smile for her? Would he give her secret kisses and rub her back as they read together in the library?

A pang of longing hit her chest so hard that Caroline blinked in surprise. It had been a while since she’d yearned for love. She’d given up very quickly, realizing that a lady of her stature could not afford it.

Thus, she was bound to continue experiencing love only through the words she wrote.