A Yuletide Invitation. Christine Merrill

she could slap her foolish brother for causing his wife to worry, when he could have solved so many problems by telling her the whole truth.

      ‘And when I told him, in pique, that I quite preferred Nicholas to him, for he at least had the sense to know that I was capable of reading a newspaper, Harry smiled and told me that I was probably right. For Nick had finally come into his inheritance. And at that moment, he had the deeper pockets. But Harry said he could still afford to buy me earrings to go with the new necklace if I wished them. So I left him and went to London. And he bought me a whole new wardrobe.’ The last words came out in a sob, and she stared at Rosalind, her eyes red and watery. ‘Is that the behaviour of a sane man?’

      Rosalind had to admit it was not. It made no sense to open his purse when a few simple words of apology would have brought his wife running home. ‘He was trying to get on your good side, Elise. He has always been slow to speak of his troubles, and even slower to admit fault. It is just his way.’

      ‘Then his way has succeeded in driving me away from him. Perhaps that was what he was trying to do all along.

      He certainly made no effort to keep me. I said to him that perhaps I was more suited to Nicholas, and that our marriage had been a mistake from the start.’

      ‘And what did he say to that?’

      ‘That he had found our marriage most satisfactory, but that there was little he could do to control how I felt in the matter.’

      ‘There. See? He was happy enough,’ said Rosalind. She picked up the ornament from the floor and offered it back to Elise, thinking that the metaphor of grasping straws was an apt one if this was all the ammunition she could find to defend her idiot brother.

      Elise sniffed and tossed the straw into the fire, then took a sheet of paper and absently snipped and folded until it became a star. ‘He said it was satisfactory. That is hardly praise, Rosalind. And the way he smiled as he said it. It was almost as if he was daring me to disagree.’

      ‘Or he could have been smiling because he was happy.’

      ‘Or not. He always smiles, Rosalind. It means nothing to me any more.’

      ‘He does not smile nearly so much as he used to, Elise. Not when you are not here to see. Harry feels your absence, and he is putting on a brave front for you. I am sure of it.’ There was truth in that, at least.

      ‘Then he has but to ask me to return to him and I shall,’ she said. ‘Or I shall consider it,’ she amended, trying to appear stubborn as she busied herself with the basket of ornaments, putting the little candles into their holders.

      But it was obvious that, despite initial appearances, Elise would come running back to Harry in an instant, if given any hope at all. And Harry was longing for a way to get her back.

      Rosalind considered. While neither wished to be the first to make an overture, it might take only the slightest push from a third party to make the reconciliation happen.

      And so she began to plan.

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      HARRY watched Tremaine retreating to the library. Merry Christmas, indeed. Apparently the miserable pest had seen through the trap and was trying to wriggle out of it, like the worm he was. But his hasty departure would solve nothing, and his forestalling of the bet would anger Elise to the point that there was no telling what she might do. If she got it into her head that she was being rejected by both the men in her life, she might never recover from the hurt of it.

      Thank the Lord for fortuitous weather and stuck wagons. It would buy him enough time to sort things again, before they got too far out of hand. And if it gave him an opportunity to deal out some of the misery that Tremaine deserved? All the better.

      ‘Harry.’ Rosalind came bustling out of the drawing room and stopped her brother before he could escape. ‘What is really going on here?’

      ‘Going on?’ He made sure his face showed nothing but innocence, along with a sense of injury that she should accuse him of anything. ‘Nothing at all, Rosalind. I only wished to entertain some members of my set for the holiday, and I thought …’

      His little sister set her hands upon her hips and stared at him in disgust. ‘Your wife is here with another man. And you do not seem the least bit surprised. As a matter of fact you welcomed her new lover as though he were an honoured guest.’

      ‘In a sense he is. He is the object of a bet I have made with the other gentlemen. I guaranteed them that I could make Tremaine wish me a Merry Christmas.’

      ‘Why on earth would you do that?’

      He grinned. ‘Perhaps my common sense was temporarily overcome with seasonal spirit.’

      Rosalind frowned at him. ‘Or perhaps not. Perhaps you have some plan afoot that involves ending the separation with your wife. Or did you bet on her as well? And what prevailed upon the odious Mr Tremaine to accept your challenge? I do not understand it at all.’

      ‘Then let me explain it to you. I told Tremaine that I would facilitate the divorce Elise is so eager for, if he would come down to the country and play my little game. I knew he would take the information straight to Elise, and that she would insist they attend—if only for the opportunity to come back here and tell me to my face what she thought of the idea. I expect she is furious.’

      ‘And you think by angering her that you will bring her closer to you? Harry, you do not understand women at all, if that is your grand plan.’

      ‘But I know Elise.’ He smiled. ‘And so far it is going just as I expected it to.’

      ‘If you know her so well, then you should have been able to prevent her from leaving in the first place. Do you understand what you have done to her to make her so angry with you?’

      He was honestly puzzled as he answered, ‘Absolutely nothing. As you can see from the house, her wardrobe, her jewels, she can live in luxury. And if this was not enough I would go to any lengths necessary to give her more. I treat her with the utmost respect. I do not strike her. I do not berate her in public or in private. I am faithful. Although I have never denied her her admirers, I have no mistress, nor have ever considered a lover. I want no one but her, and I am willing to give her her own way in all things.’ He gestured in the direction of the library. ‘I even tolerate Tremaine. What more can she ask of me? There is little more that I can think to give her.’

      Rosalind paused in thought for a moment. ‘You spoil her, then. But you must cut her off if she means to belittle you so. If she has a taste for luxury, deny her. Tell her that you are very angry with her over this foolishness and that there will be no more gifts. Tell her that you wish for her to come home immediately. That will bring her to heel.’

      ‘Do not speak that way of her.’ He said it simply for he did not mean to reprove his sister, since she got enough of that at home. ‘Elise is not some animal that can be punished into obedience and will still lick the hand of its master. She is a proud woman. And she is my wife.’

      ‘It seems she does not wish to be.’

      ‘Perhaps not. But it is something that must be settled between the two of us, and not by others. And perhaps if you had lived her life …’

      Rosalind laughed. ‘I would gladly trade her life for mine. You will not convince me that it is such a tragedy to be married to an earl. Even in separation, she lives better than most ladies of the ton.’

      He shook his head. ‘You should understand well enough what her life was like before, Rosalind, and show some sympathy. For her parents were every bit as strict to her as your father has been to you. I met her father, of course, when I offered for her. Her mother as well. It would not have been easy for her if she had been forced to return home after the disaster with Tremaine. The man betrayed her, and so she broke it off with him. It was the only reason she was willing to consider my offer.’

      Rosalind bit her lip, as though the situation was unusually distressing