Home for the Holidays Read Free Page A

decision to seduce her had been the easiest decision yet in his campaign against the Ascots. Ruin her for marriage, another blow against the family’s good name. That had been his thought when he had handed her his card. On reflection, though, he knew it was just an excuse, and a paltry one at that.
    It had been a long time since he had wanted something, really wanted something, for himself. He wanted her. Revenge gave him all the excuse he needed to have her, would ease his conscience—if he had one. He wasn’t sure if he had one or not. The lack of emotion in his life included guilt, so it was hard to tell.
    The next day he was in the entry hall to greet her when she arrived at his home. Her surprise was evident.
    “I thought the address you gave me would be for another property of yours that you let out, one that was presently vacant. If I had known you were offering the hospitality of your own home, I would have…”
    “Declined?” he supplied with interest when she failed to finish. “Would you really?”
    She blushed profusely. “I would have liked to.”
    “Ah.” He smiled at her. “But we can’t always do as we like.”
    No indeed, or he would carry her straight away to his bed. She was even more beautiful than he recalled, or perhaps it was merely the bright daylight in the hall that revealedmore of her perfection. Petite, narrow of waist, finely garbed in a fur-trimmed coat over mauve velvet skirts. A small, narrow nose. Dark gold brows, more a slash than an arch. Unblemished skin except for a small mole on the corner of her chin. Tiny earlobes with teardrop pearls hanging from them. She was every inch a lady, merely lacking a title that said so.
    The Ascots had not been poor, likely were still well off. They were gentry. There was even an earl somewhere in their ancestry. They were quite socially acceptable to the
ton,
even though George had gone into business, which was not so frowned upon these days as it used to be. Albert had tried to do the same …
    The only reason that Vincent had found it so easy to ruin Ascot’s financial reputation was that he was not in the country at the moment to put an end to the rumors that had spread about his dire straits. His prolonged absence had set his creditors to panic.
    She came with an entourage, two women in their late fifties who looked nearly identical, and a pile of blankets that his coachman had carried in for them.
    “We have bedding,” Vincent thought to point out.
    Larissa was still blushing over being there. Her blush brightened more as she explained, “That’s my brother, Thomas. He has a dreadful cold. He wanted to walk, but the illness has sapped his strength.”
    The blankets wiggled. The son was sick? Why had none of the reports he had on the family mentioned that? Vincent was pricked by his elusive conscience, but only for a moment. He nodded at his housekeeper, who had been apprised of the impending guests. She in turn nodded at the coachman to follow her. The two elderly servants did as well.
    They were alone for the moment, there in the wide entry hall. Vincent wasn’t sure how to proceed. He was used to dealing with women in a straightforward manner. His title and wealth had always opened more doors for him than not, and the “nots” simply weren’t worth the effort. So he had never actually resorted to a planned seduction before. And the few that had been planned against him all seemed to include food in the agenda for some reason beyond his comprehension, as if women naturally assumed that a man without a wife must be starving, when any man of his position would have a perfectly good cook on staff, which he did.
    However, the thought of food reminded him, “You are in time for luncheon.”
    “No, thank you, Lord Everett, I couldn’t possible intrude,” she replied.
    “Intrude on what?”
    “Your family.”
    “I have no family. I live alone here.”
    It was a simple statement of fact, not meant to elicitsympathy from her. Yet