The Rogue’s Christmas Gift (Wicked Widows League #24)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

LONDON, DECEMBER 1821

A fter a taxing evening of trying to convince the woman he loved to marry him—again—the last thing Harrison Montlake, the Earl of Hendershot, wanted to do was to speak with his mother. However, he still strode toward his mother’s sitting room in the old townhouse filled with century-old heirlooms. The place had always been more like a prison than a home to Harrison.

He could’ve ignored the demand that his butler had timidly delivered, but one thing he knew about the Countess of Hendershot was that she would not take kindly to being ignored. Especially by her son.

Two days...

He repeated to himself, counting down the days until he would finally be free of his own mother. Soon, she would go to his sister Josephine’s country estate in Essex to spend time with her and her children. Harrison loved his mother, but she’d become increasingly difficult in her old age. Especially with her spending habits.

Walking through his home, he tried not to categorize what he could sell for funds. The family coffers were low. The money from the tenants and crops from the ancestral home in Somerset was not yielding enough for its general upkeep. Nor could they survive his mother and sister’s spending habits. His older sister had abandoned her husband, a mere country doctor, for a more exciting life in London Society. All of her expenses and those of her children fell to Harrison.

Harrison’s father had been nothing but a second cousin to an earl with no hope of ever inheriting, or so he’d thought. With an entire family in the line of succession, one would have never imagined that Harrison’s family would have gained the earldom. But sickness and war have a way of elevating forgotten family members.

When his father had inherited, Harrison had barely been a man of eighteen. Suddenly, his life had changed forever. Not only had he become heir, but he’d had to leave the only girl he would ever love.

Reaching the large, faded door of his mother’s favorite room, he blew out a harsh breath, preparing himself for battle. Before Harrison could raise his hand, his mother’s deep voice penetrated the thick wood.

“I know you’re out there. I heard your footsteps, Harrison,” she called from beyond the door.

Wrapping his hand around the knob, Harrison let himself in, walking deeper into the dark blue sitting room where his mother, Fiona Montlake, the Countess of Hendershot, sat. Dressed in a green dinner gown, his mother relaxed by the fire on a satin chaise lounge, her fiery red hair the exact shade as his own.

“Mother, I am weary. Is there a reason you wanted to see me so urgently?” He flung himself down in the matching armchair like he’d done as a boy.

His weary body immediately relaxed, desperately in need of sleep—an impossible feat in a moving carriage. The ride from Pleasure House to Grosvenor Square was a short one, but it did not stop his mind from wandering back to that fateful day eight years earlier.

It had been the middle of the night when his father had whisked him away from Nottingham and Kat. The memory was as fresh as fallen snow, even after ten long years.

His father, Montgomery Montlake, had forbidden him to ever see the girl he had loved again. It didn’t matter to him she was possibly carrying Harrison’s child. The only thing his father had cared about was the earldom and preserving the family’s new status.

After years of hard work to keep his family out of poverty by starting a textile business with his friend and partner, Daniel Smith, Harrison’s father had chosen to turn his back on all that he had built. As soon as he became the next Earl of Hendershot, Montgomery Montlake had abandoned every part of his old life and had expected his son to do the same.

But Harrison could not. He never would.

“I don’t care that you are weary. We desperately need funds,” his mother snapped, sitting up to prove the gravity of their situation.

“I’m aware, and I will rectify the problem.” He ran his hands through his disheveled red hair.

He had done everything he could. But his late father’s, mother’s, and sister’s spending habits and expensive taste had tested the depleted coffers. His sister’s children’s educations had taken another chunk. Josephine had abandoned her husband, depending solely on Harrison to provide for her and her children. Finally, the upkeep of their homes pushed the scales of the struggling Earldom past the point of financial viability.

“How do you plan to rectify the problem?” She tapped one silk-encased foot. “Surely not by spending all your time at that abominable gentlemen’s club.”

His mother came from a noble Scottish family and was used to the privileges of a certain lifestyle. A lifestyle that had never altered because of her marriage to a wealthy businessman. Once the family had elevated in station, that had given his mother the title and connections in society she’d always craved.

He ignored her comment. As a grown man, he did not have to answer to his mother on where he spent his time or with whom. “Don’t worry, mother. You will not have to sell your precious jewels.” He stood, walking over to the sideboard, desperately in need of a drink if she insisted on questioning him like a Bow Street Runner.

“That is exactly what I am worried about.” She flung her hands up in the air. “It is time you end your boyish dreams of being with that girl and marry a respectable woman?—”

“Kat is respectable.” He slammed down the glass he was holding.

Kat had always been respectable, until that swine seduced her when she was most vulnerable, or so Harrison believed. Why else would she have fallen into the arms of another mere months after Harrison had departed Nottingham?

They had never spoken of the past. His conversations with the ever-enchanting Kat—Madame Kitty Delcour — had Harrison confessing his undying love and begging her to marry him. A sentiment in which her response had always been ‘ If I were to marry again, it would be to you .’

A statement that he’d never had an answer for. Harrison had spent the last two years of his life pining over the girl he’d lost all those years ago. There was no sign of Katherine Smith in Madame Delcour.

Perhaps it was time to forget the past.

“If owning a brothel is respectable, then I am the Queen of England,” his mother spat out.

Deciding that he did not need a drink after all, Harrison turned to face her. His mother was still beautiful, with her green eyes and red hair. Though she no longer had the same figure she had in his youth, she wasn’t a large woman at all. He’d been sure she would remarry after his father’s death, but she had remained unattached despite her many suitors.

“Your majesty.” Harrison bowed to her, hiding the hint of satisfaction that ran through him at the sight of the annoyed look on her face.

“I am glad this is amusing to you. We can barely afford to pay the servants, let alone purchase new wardrobes for myself and your sister for the upcoming season.” She stood, her much shorter height still intimidating to him even to a man grown. “I have written to Lady Davenport. She is one of my closest friends; therefore, it makes perfectly good sense that our children should marry?—”

“Have you gone absolutely mad? I won’t marry Lady Selena Davenport just because you need a new wardrobe for the season,” he shouted, striding over to her.

Once he had hoped to forget Kat with Lady Selena’s serene smile and flirtatious manner, but he’d soon realized how giving Lady Selena was with her affections to multiple gentlemen. That was the real reason Lady Selena Davenport, beauty with a sizeable dowry, found herself still unwed after a fourth season.

“She was appealing to you once. I had actually hoped you would offer for her, but you did not. Then your obsession with that woman began all over again.” She shook her head as if his affection for Kat was absurd. “Your father would be furious to learn that all his hard work separating you from her meant nothing at all.” His mother slashed her hands in front of her body.

Since he’d been a child, it had always been a sign of her anger and frustration with the family. They all knew to do her bidding whenever she made that move.

Opening and closing one hand, Harrison tilted his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was no longer a boy willing to follow his mother’s every command, and Harrison would be damned if he married Lady Selena Davenport. “I don’t care about a dead man’s opinion.”

She was correct, however—it was time that he married, but the only woman he wanted never wanted to marry again.

“Well, you should care about the future of this family. The Davenports are in town for the special session of Parliament. I suggest you speak to Lady Selena while I’m at your sister’s.” She gave him a pointed look. “I expect an announcement when I return. Perhaps you will even be married by then.”

Having heard enough of her delusions, Harrison turned away from her. “Good night, Mother,” he said, before he walked out of the lavish sitting room, desperately in need of sleep.

Rubbing at his chest, he tried to ignore the pain piercing his heart, or rather the nausea forming in his abdomen. Usually, he was in a joyous mood this time of year. There was something about Christmas that always made him happy.

When he was younger, his family had always celebrated the season with Kat’s family. They’d begin on Stir-up Sunday, stirring up the Christmas pudding. On St. Nichol’s Day, they’d received small gifts. Harrison had always loved when the women had gone Thomasing on St. Thomas Day. Decorating both Kat’s home and his own with evergreen boughs on Christmas Eve had been one of his favorite activities. Although Harrison hadn’t loved going to church on Christmas Day, he’d enjoyed the Christmas goose from their local baker. His second favorite day of the Christmas season had always been Boxing Day. Harrison had always loved the hearty meals their cooks had provided for the two families.

Christmas held a special place in Harrison’s heart. It was the night where all his firsts with Kat had happened. One year, it was the first time she had allowed him to hold her hand. Another, she had placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. The last Christmas they’d spent together had changed his life. For as long as he could remember, he had only loved one woman, and now he was in fear of losing her forever.