Page 39 of The Widow’s Christmas Surprise

Once the maid had gone, Maria slowly unfolded the missive, dreading to discover the letter writer. Jane would have come to her if she had something to say, lord knows she had said quite enough already about the wretched events of this morning. Either Miss Granger or Lord or Lady Kersey could have written, to check on her welfare, but she somehow doubted it. No, most likely this letter in her hand was from either Mr. Granger or Lord Wetherby. A deep, sinking sensation flared in the pit of her stomach when she thought what each of them might have written to her. She stared at the paper, turned it over in her hands, then simply unfolded it and read the single sentence and signature.

Please meet me in the blue receiving room in half an hour.

Hugh Granger

Relief poured through her like melted snow, cooling her heightened senses. She slumped back onto the bed and pulled the covers around her, a smile stealing over her face. At last she might be able to explain to Mr. Granger both what had happened this morning and what her feelings were toward him. That both explanations were somewhat entwined might make the telling difficult, but she would make him see that she had to act as she had this morning because of her affection for him.

The mantel clock chimed four. Good heavens, he’d only given her half an hour to meet him. That was barely enough time to dress. “Hatley!”

Her maid reappeared and assisted with a hasty toilette. Inwardly, Maria bemoaned for the first time that she could not wear anything brighter than the lavender afternoon gown with gold medallions scattered over it she had now donned. Blue had always been her best color, but this would have to do for propriety’s sake. Admittedly, it was her most becoming ensemble, with matching silk slippers and gold locket.

Taking a moment to calm herself, Maria sent up a prayer that everything would come right with this meeting. If Mr. Granger accepted her explanation and her declaration, then they could hopefully move forward to an understanding that would be divulged to the world as soon as her mourning period had ended. Jane would be sorely disappointed that her cousin hadn’t made a better match, but Maria had decided she would not think about anyone’s wishes but her own. Jane could make decisions for her own life, not for Maria’s, especially since they apparently had very different ideas about love and marriage. In the end, Jane would wish her happy, and that was all that mattered.

Hurrying down the main staircase, Maria automatically scanned the area at the bottom for sight of Lord Wetherby. She fervently hoped that gentleman was firmly ensconced in his bed with a handkerchief tied over his wounded face. At any rate, he did not seem to be haunting this part of the house, so she continued down the corridor toward the front of the house. The blue receiving room was located immediately to the right of the entryway and used only for visitors. As no one was expected until Wednesday, the room would be perfect for their need for privacy in this interview.

The door was ajar. Maria put a tentative hand on the latch and pushed it lightly, then stuck her head around the dark paneled door. A fire burned brightly, casting a glow in the room where daylight was fading. Mr. Granger leaned against the mantelpiece, staring intently into the fire, every line of his lean figure a study in elegance. He’d changed into a dark gray jacket, cut excellently to accentuate his broad chest and narrow waist. At the creak of the door, he turned, his waistcoat, blue and gray striped, catching the light, brightening his blue eyes almost to azure. He straightened, his gaze riveted to her face.

Maria’s heart thumped loudly and her hands grew damp. She continued into the room, then closed the door all but about two inches. That should serve for propriety’s sake. With measured steps more sedate than usual, she headed toward him, thrilled to meet him alone for the first time in a week.

“Thank you for seeing me, my lady.” His voice sounded so pleasantly on the ear. Who would not wish to listen to him speak at every opportunity?

“I am very pleased to do so, Mr. Granger.” How to begin her confession? Unsure now that she was before him, she shifted from one foot to the other.

“Won’t you be seated, my lady?” He motioned to the small blue jacquard sofa in the center of the room.

“Of course.” Self-conscious of his scrutiny, she shuffled to the couch, unable to pick up her feet properly. This would never do. She lowered herself onto the cushion at one end, and put her hands in her lap.

“I trust you have recovered from your ordeal this morning?” He seated himself on the opposite end of the sofa.

An even tone, no touch of derision or smugness. That made her way easier. “Yes, I have, thank you. And I wanted to explain to you what actually happened, Mr. Granger. There were some things that were . . . left out of my story when we were in the woods.”

“I suspected as much at the time, my lady.” His gaze slipped to his hands, fisted in his lap. “I assume you wish to tell me now that there was no bird involved.”

“No, no bird of any kind.” A stupid story, but it had served in the spur of the moment. “I did prick my finger on a holly leaf. That much is true. Lord Wetherby gave me his handkerchief and helped wipe the blood from it.” The memory of his lips on her hand made her shudder.

A moment later his hand grasped hers. “What did he do, Maria?”

The use of her Christian name startled her, for she’d not given him permission to use it. Not that she objected at all. But was he trying to take advantage of her, or put her at ease? She’d not be easy about the situation until he knew everything. The tale must be finished, despite the consequences. “He kissed my finger, my palm, then my mouth.”

His grip on her hand tightened and his mouth grew taut. “And you allowed this advance?”

“Of course I didn’t allow it.” Appalled, she snatched her hand away. Did he truly think she had welcomed such liberties from Lord Wetherby? The numbskull. “I told him to stop, but in case you haven’t seen his lordship recently, he’s a big, strong man. I tried to push him away several times, but I might as well have been pushing away that wall for all the good it did me.”

“I beg your pardon, my lady.” Mr. Granger’s face had gone from pale white to red. “I do not mean to infer that you would do such a thing, unless you had some affection for Lord Wetherby, then I would assume—”

“Why would you even think that?” What did Mr. Granger think of her, after all? “If you remember, last week I was kissing you in your office.” She drew herself up, and peered at him. “Do you believe me to be a woman who goes around kissing men indiscriminately?”

“Good lord, no.” He scrubbed his hand down his face, drawing a deep breath. “I sincerely apologize, my lady. I just needed to make sure that Lord Wetherby wasn’t under the impression that you reciprocated his interest.”

Somewhat placated, Maria settled back on the sofa. “No, there was no chance he would have thought that.”

Mr. Granger nodded gravely, then cocked his head. “So how did you manage to escape him? Not a bird to the rescue, I believe.”

Shaking her head, Maria grinned at him. “No, I simply used his body against him.”

“I beg your pardon?” A frown instantly formed on Mr. Granger’s face.

“He had me bent over his arm so far that the only thing keeping us upright were my feet on the ground. So I lifted them up and down we went.” One of the few times in her life that her wits had served her so well, Maria was rather proud of her solution to the situation.