Alice's Arranged Marriage (Home for Christmas Book 1) Read online

  This is for your own good, she told herself, over and over, trying to force herself to believe it. This is for your own good.

  But as much as she tried to make herself believe those words, Alice could feel nothing but doubts settle into her very soul. This was meant to be a wonderful opportunity for her, she knew, and no doubt her father had worked very hard to make it so—but try as she might, Alice could feel nothing but worry and anxiety that she would make as much of a fool of herself in England as she did here in America.

  Everything could go wrong.

  2

  “It is because of you that I have to do this!”

  Charles, the Earl of Allerton, glared angrily at his younger brother, Lord Prestwick, who lounged languidly in a chair in front of the roaring fire.

  “You have nothing to say for yourself?” Charles demanded, aware that his anger was as hot as the blaze in the grate. “You have no explanation as to why you did such things?”

  Lord Prestwick sighed heavily and turned his head back toward Charles, his expression set in one of utter boredom. “I gambled because I wanted to,” he said with a slight shrug. “That is all I can tell you.”

  Charles closed his eyes and let out a slow breath, fearing that he would lose his temper completely if he did not force himself to regain some of his composure. His brother was one of the most arrogant, ignorant fools he had ever met in his life and it was beyond embarrassing that he had to endure such idiocy from him. “I have had to put out a great deal of money to ensure that your welfare was guaranteed,” he said slowly, choosing his words with great care. “But I shall do so no longer.”

  Lord Prestwick frowned and turned lazy eyes back toward Charles. “What do you mean, brother?” he asked in a warning voice. “You will no longer support me?”

  “You are old enough to support yourself!” Charles exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “You are nothing but lazy, Prestwick. You have chosen to gamble because you believe that, should you lose, should you manage to get yourself into difficulties, I will do whatever I can to help you.” His hands drew to his sides, his lips pulled into a tight line for a moment. “Well, no longer.” Letting out his breath slowly, he saw his brother frown. “No longer, Prestwick. I have paid your debts for the last time. You must look to your own fortunes now.”

  Turning away and ignoring the exclamation from his brother, Charles told himself repeatedly that he was doing the right thing, even though it felt as though he were behaving in a most cruel fashion. His brother was just as Charles had said. He was arrogant, selfish, and careless, thinking nothing of his future nor of his own estate. Charles had given a great deal to ensure that his brother had been well taken care of, had given away more money that he ought to have, simply to make sure that Lord Prestwick was not as close to ruin as he imagined him to be—but Charles knew, deep down, he could do so no longer. If Lord Prestwick wanted to ruin himself and run his estate into the ground, then so be it. Charles could give nothing more of himself or of his own fortune in order to save his brother. He was already in dire straits and were it not for the arrival of his wealthy bride, then he did not know what he would have done. Everyone in the beau monde knew of Lord Prestwick’s improper behavior and, of course, the ton made no attempt to hide their lack of regard for him. This, in turn, affected Charles’ own reputation and as such, the many young ladies who had once been eager to catch his eye were now few and far between. Gentlemen kept their daughters away from him, no doubt fully aware of what had occurred with Lord Prestwick and Charles’ decision to pay for his brother’s debts thereafter. They would fear that he was less than solvent, given that his brother’s debts were very weighty indeed, and Charles had to admit that such a decision was wise. Unless he could marry someone with a good deal of affluence, it would take him years to recover his wealth.

  Which was why he had been so very glad to receive the letter from his friend, informing him of this young lady and her vast fortune. She was from New York, yes, which meant that she was not of English descent, but Charles was in no position to be choosy. If she was willing to come to England, willing to marry him and willing to remain here, then he had no reason to refuse her. Besides which, he had told himself, this young lady sounded, from his friend’s letter, to be quite amiable indeed. He had to hope that her character was as pleasant as his friend had made her out to be.

  “You are a selfish oaf, Allerton!”

  Charles spun around just as his brother threw himself out of his chair, his eyes blazing and one long finger pointed out toward his brother.

  “You think of no one but yourself!”

  Charles bit his lip hard, refusing to allow the quick, angry retort to leave his lips. His brother was upset and, as such, Charles knew it was best not to speak in anger.

  “You say that you will do nothing more for me, you say that you will never again come to my aid—what sort of brother do you consider yourself to be, Allerton? What sort of gentleman refuses to help those in need?”

  “There is a difference between those who need aid due to circumstances beyond their control, and those who willingly walk into such situations,” Charles answered evenly. “There is nothing you can say or do that will encourage me to change my mind.”

  His brother glared at him, his light blue eyes narrowing all the more. “You are just like our father.”

  Charles, who did not consider this to be an insult, said nothing. Instead, he looked back at his younger brother and wished that he had found some way to express to him the difficulties of his current situation. Not that Prestwick would listen, for he was always much too wrapped up in his own present situation.

  “I have had to make a great many sacrifices,” he said eventually, wondering if sharing some of the truth would make his brother realize just how foolish he had been. “I have given you so much of my fortune that there is very little left.” A flicker of embarrassment touched his cheeks, but Charles continued regardless, refusing to allow himself to be so ashamed of his circumstances that he would not speak of them. “The estate had a poor summer, as well you know. I have very little left—to the point that I must now marry.”

  Lord Prestwick’s eyes flared in surprise.

  “My bride arrives very soon,” Charles went on before his brother could say anything. “I know very little of her, save for the fact that she has a good fortune which will bring me some relief from my circumstances. Circumstances which have, in fact, arisen from my willingness to help you out of your foolishness.” A touch of anger hit his words. “And that is why I shall do so no longer.”

  Lord Prestwick said nothing for some moments. Then, he shook his head, rolled his eyes, and pointed one finger out toward Charles. “You lie,” he said harshly. “You pretend these ‘circumstances’ for the sole purpose of refusing me any further help. My debts were not as great as you pretend them to be, Allerton.” He strode toward the door, flinging it open with such force that it hit hard against the wall. “This is not the end of the matter!”

  “Oh, but it is,” Charles replied firmly, looking at his brother as he stood, framed in the doorway. “Hereafter, there shall be no more financial aid from me. Look to your estate, look to your own profits instead of squandering everything on your own pleasures. That is the only advice I can give you.”

  His brother sneered at him, his eyes filled with hate. “You forget, brother, that I do not want your sage advice, in much the same way that you do not want my company. Good day.” Before Charles could say another word, Lord Prestwick strode from the room, his footsteps echoing back toward Charles. Sighing and frustrated with how things had gone, Charles went to pour himself a glass of brandy before sitting back down again heavily. He had meant to have a discussion of sorts with his brother but instead it had turned into an argument. His brother did not seem to understand just how difficult things were at present, and to accuse Charles of lying was more than a little insulting.

  “I hear Lord Prestwick will not be joining us for a drink.
”

  Charles looked up at once to see his friend, the Duke of Sussex, standing framed in the doorway. The duke was grinning at him, one eyebrow lifted in question, but Charles could only groan.

  “Brandy?” the duke asked, eyeing Charles’ glass. “The conversation did not go well, then?”

  “No,” Charles muttered darkly, as the duke poured himself a glass and then came to sit down opposite him, spreading out one hand toward the blazing fire. “It did not go well at all.”

  The duke shivered, as one does when one comes in from the cold, and then lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I do not think that matters,” he answered quickly. “Your brother will have to learn that certain matters cannot just be thrown aside in the way that he has become accustomed to.” Seeing Charles open his mouth to protest, the duke held up one hand, a rueful smile on his face. “It is not that I lay the blame at your feet, Allerton. You and I are both well aware of the laziness that has always been a part of your brother’s character.”

  Charles sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. “That is because he was always my mother’s favorite child,” he murmured, thinking fondly of his lately departed mother. “She gave him almost everything he asked for without hesitation. I think if I had not stepped in and prevented her from giving him almost all the coffers she had, then he would have taken it all without hesitation.”

  The duke looked rather shocked at this statement, but Charles did not say anything further, feeling the cold truth of the matter wash over him again. His mother had been quite lovely, with a generous spirit and a kind word for everyone. Her concern for her son, however, had turned into a very upsetting situation, where she had been desperate to give Prestwick everything he asked for and Charles had been forced to prevent her from doing so. The only way he had been able to resolve the matter was to promise that he would be the one to give his brother what was required. At least his mother had gone from this world in peace, believing that Charles would always look after his brother in the way she expected.

  It could not be so any longer, however. Lord Prestwick was selfish and lazy and it was time that Charles stopped following in his mother’s footsteps. Why he had been so overly generous toward his brother, Charles was not quite certain, but he was sure that some of it stemmed from guilt. Guilt that he had been born first and, as such, had been given a good deal more than his brother. Guilt that he had prevented his mother from helping Prestwick in the way that she had wanted, and guilt over the fact that he had not found a way to help his brother become the gentleman Charles knew he ought to be.

  “Now,” the duke said, his tone brisk. “What other news do you have for me? Have you found yourself a wealthy bride as yet?” His expression became serious. “Although you know that you need only ask and I would be glad to aid you in whatever way you require. I know how generous you have been toward your brother and I can assure you that the very same generosity would be displayed toward you.”

  Charles shook his head fervently, feeling the same sense of pride rise up within him. “You have always been very kind, Duke,” he answered, knowing full well that his very dear friend would give him anything he asked for, should he become entirely desperate. There was a camaraderie between them that had come from years of friendship and Charles was truly grateful for his friend’s consideration. “I cannot accept anything from you—although if I am truly in dire straits, then I would set aside my pride and come to you at once.” He chuckled, seeing the duke frown. “But it is not as bad as you fear. I am to be married.”

  The duke’s brows rose at once, although this astonishment soon gave way to delight. “Indeed?” he asked with a broad smile. “And what is the name of the lady?”

  “A Miss Jones,” Charles replied, a trifle embarrassed that the lady had no title. As an earl, he was expected to make an excellent match, but the difficulties with his brother and the embarrassment he had brought to the family name made things a good deal more difficult in that regard. “She hails from America. I expect her very soon.”

  The duke blinked in surprise but said nothing. Charles’ stomach knotted uncomfortably, fearing that his friend thought him either ridiculous or foolish.

  “An acquaintance met the family when he was traveling,” he stammered, trying to explain himself. “The daughter has a great fortune, although the wealth was acquired when her father became successful in industry some years ago. They were plucked out of a very poor situation, I understand, and have been moving about in society thereafter.” He gave the duke a weary smile, sitting back in his chair and waving a hand about. “You know very well that as much as I might have wished to marry a delicate English rose, they would not so much as look at me given the rumors that I am close to poverty myself.”

  The duke nodded, his expression telling Charles that he was carefully considering everything that had been said.

  “I have had no other choice,” Charles finished, still feeling as though he was required to give an explanation. “I need a good fortune in order to lift me out of my difficulties. Had the estate not done badly, I might have been able to choose someone from within the beau monde here in London, but as things stand—”

  “You have no need to justify yourself to me, Allerton,” the duke interrupted with a small smile. “I think you have chosen very wisely indeed.”

  Charles blinked in surprise as a weight rolled off his shoulders, allowing him to breathe a little more easily.

  “If she brings a fortune with her, then you have made the correct decision,” the duke continued, getting up to pour himself another brandy. “I just hope that she is amiable enough to content you.”

  With a glimmer of a smile and feeling as though the duke had put his finger right upon the concerns that currently troubled his heart, Charles let out a long, slow breath. “I will be greatly satisfied if she is as portrayed in the various letters I received on the subject,” he answered, knowing very well that a short introduction to the lady and a detailed description of her character from none other than her father was not a promise that she would suit him by any means.

  “And is she beautiful?”

  Charles shrugged. “I know she has dark hair and green eyes, with a pleasing figure and gentle complexion, but aside from that, I could not say,” he answered, trying to tell himself that her appearance did not concern him in the least. “If she is as plain as a nun, then I shall be more than contented, for what she brings with her will pull me from my difficulties immediately.”

  The duke nodded, then sat back down with a contented sigh. “She will be the talk of all of London,” he stated with a knowing look in Charles’ direction. “As will you be.”

  “I am aware of that,” Charles sighed, wishing that it were not so, but fully aware that the ton would dig their sharp claws into the lady almost at once. “But it is to be expected. In time, I am sure they will forget all about her.” He almost convinced himself in saying such things aloud, knowing all too well that the ton might talk of his new bride for the entirety of the Little Season. It could not be helped, he knew, but already he was beginning to dread it. “She will stay with my aunt for a month or so, simply so that we might become accustomed to one another and, thereafter, we shall wed.” He shrugged. “Late December, I should think.”

  “I see,” the duke murmured, one eyebrow lifting just a little. “And this time beforehand is to allow you to become acquainted with each other, as you have said. Is it also to make certain that you will suit?” His eyebrow lifted all the higher. “There is no intention of ending the engagement, I think.”

  “No, indeed not,” Charles agreed firmly. “Regardless of whether or not she is amiable, plain, or disagreeable, the marriage will go ahead.” He lifted his glass to his lips and drained the rest of his brandy, knowing that he had no choice in the matter. “It must.”

  The duke said nothing for a few minutes, leaving them to sit in silence in front of the crackling fire. Charles let his mind fill with questions about his bride-to-
be, who he knew had already set off from America some weeks ago and would be with him very shortly. There was so much unknown, so much that he did not have answers to, and yet he knew very well that whether or not he liked the lady, they must marry. He had no other choice, for without her fortune, he was quite certain to slip toward ruin.

  “Then let us hope she is agreeable and genteel,” the duke said, raising his glass in a small toast. “To your marriage, Lord Allerton. May it be a happy and joyful one.”

  “Indeed,” Charles muttered, sighing heavily before leaning his head back and closing his eyes. These next few weeks would change everything.

  3

  The butler cleared his throat, extending a hand toward the rather large lady who sat in a chair by the fire, her back straight and her grey curls pinned back, holding a delicate lace cap on top. She was dressed in a dark red gown which gave Alice an almost regal impression. “And this is Lady Fossett.”