The Mistletoe Wager. Christine Merrill
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I, Harry Pennyngton, swear upon my honour that if I cannot succeed in making Nicholas Tremaine wish me a Merry Christmas in my home, by January the fifth of next year, I shall make every attempt to give my estranged wife, Elise Pennyngton, the divorce that she craves, and will do nothing to stand in the way of her marriage to Nicholas Tremaine or any other man.
It was signed ‘Anneslea’, in her husband’s finest hand, and dated yesterday.
She threw it to the floor at her feet. Damn Harry and his twisted sense of humour. The whole thing had been prepared before he’d even entered into the bet. He had gone to the club with the intent of trapping Nicholas into one of his stupid little jokes, and he had used her to bait the hook. How dared he make light of something that was so important? Turn the end of their marriage into some drawing room wager and, worse yet, make no mention of it to her? Without thinking, she reverted to her mother tongue and gave vent to her frustrations over marriage, divorce, men in general, and her husband in particular.
Nicholas cleared his throat. ‘Really, Elise, if you must go on so, please limit yourself to English. You know I have no understanding of German.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘It is a good thing that you do not. For you would take me to task for my language, and give me another tiresome lecture in what is or is not proper for a British lady. And, Nicholas, I am in no mood for it.’
‘Well, foul language is not proper for an English gentleman, either. Nor is that letter. If you understood the process, Elise…He is offering something that he cannot give. Only the courts can decide if you are granted a divorce, and the answer will often be no.’
‘We will not know until we have tried,’ she insisted.
‘But he has done nothing to harm you, has he?’ Nick’s face darkened for a moment. ‘For if he has treated you cruelly then it is an entirely different matter. I will call the man out and we will finish this quickly, once and for all, in a way that need not involve the courts.’
‘No. No. There is no reason to resort to violence,’ she said hurriedly. ‘He has not hurt me.’ She sighed. ‘Not physically.’
Nicholas expelled an irritated sigh in response. ‘Then not at all, in the eyes of the court. Hurt feelings are no reason to end a marriage.’
‘The marriage should not have taken place at all,’ she argued. ‘There were no feelings at all between us when we married. And as far as I can tell it has not changed in all these years.’ On his part, at least.
‘It is a natural thing for ardour to cool with time. But he must have felt something back then,’ Nicholas argued. ‘Or he would not have made the offer.’
Elise shook her head and tried not to show the pain that the statement brought her. For she had flattered herself into believing much the same thing when she had accepted Harry’s offer. ‘When he decided to take a wife it was no different for him than buying an estate, or a horse, or any other thing. He did not so much marry me as collect me. And now he has forgotten why he wanted me in the first place. I doubt he even notices that I am gone.’
Nicholas added, in an offhand manner, ‘He enquired after you, by the way. I told him you were well.’
‘Did you, now?’ Elise could feel the temper rising in her. If Harry cared at all for her welfare, he should enquire in person, not make her the subject of talk at his club. ‘Thank you so much for relaying the information.’
Nick looked alarmed as he realised that he had misgauged her response to his innocent comment. ‘I had to say something, Elise. It does not do to ignore the man if he wishes to be civil about this. If you truly want your freedom, is it not better that he is being co-operative?’
‘Co-operative? I am sure that is the last thing on his mind, no matter how this appears. He is up to something.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘And how did you respond to his invitation?’
Tremaine laughed. ‘I did not dignify it with a response. It is one thing, Elise, for us to pretend that there is nothing unusual between us when we meet by accident in the club. But I hardly think it’s proper for me to go to the man’s home for the holiday.’
She shook her head. ‘You do not seriously think that there was anything accidental in your meeting with my husband, Nicholas? He wished to let me know that he is celebrating in my absence. And to make me wonder who he has for hostess.’ She furrowed her brow. ‘Not his sister, certainly.’ She ran down a list in her head of women who might be eager to step into her place.
‘Harry has a sister?’ Nicholas asked, surprised.
‘A half-sister, in Shropshire. A vicar’s daughter. Far too proper to give herself over to merriment and run off to Anneslea Manor for a house party.’
Nicholas frowned. ‘You would be surprised what vicar’s daughters can get up to when allowed to roam free. Especially at Christmas.’
Elise shook her head. ‘I doubt it is her. More likely my husband is trying to make me jealous by sending the hint that he has replaced me.’ And it annoyed her to find that he was succeeding.
‘It matters not to me, in any case,’ Nicholas replied. ‘A tiresome sister is but one more reason for me to avoid Anneslea—the Manor and the man.’
If Nick refused the invitation then she would never know the truth. A lack of response, an unwillingness to play his silly game, would be proper punishment for Harry, and might dissuade him from tormenting her, but it would do nothing to settle her mind about her husband’s reason for the jest.
And then a thought occurred to her. ‘If we are doing nothing wrong, Nicholas, then there can be no harm in a visit, surely?’ Perhaps if she could persuade him to go she would discover what Harry really intended by extending the offer.
Nick was looking at her as though she were no more trustworthy than her husband. ‘I see no good in it, either. Harry is all “Hail fellow, well met,” when we meet in the club, darling. He is being excessively reasonable about the whole thing. Which is proof that he is not the least bit reasonable on the subject. He wants you to come home, and is trying to throw me out of countenance with his good humour. And he is succeeding. I would rather walk into a lion’s den than take myself off to his home for the holiday. God knows what will happen to me once he has me alone.’
‘Do not be ridiculous, darling. It is all decided between Harry and me. There was nothing for us to do but face the facts: we do not suit.’ She put on her bravest smile. ‘We are living separately now, and he is quite content with it. I suspect we will end as better friends apart than we were together. And, while I do not doubt that he has an ulterior motive, I am sure he means you no real harm by this offer.’
‘Ha!’ Tremaine’s laugh was of triumph, and he pointed to her. ‘You do it as well. No truly content couple would work so hard to show happiness over their separation. It is a façade, Elise. Nothing more. If I go to Harry’s little party in Lincolnshire, I suspect we will be at each other’s throats before the week is out. The situation is fraught with danger. One too many cups of wassail, and he will be marching me up a snowy hillside for pistols at dawn.’
‘Harry challenge you over me?’ She laughed at the idea. ‘That is utter nonsense, Nicholas, and you know it.’
‘I know no such thing.’
‘If Harry were the sort to issue challenges, then it is far more likely that I would be there still, celebrating at his side. But he has given no evidence of caring at all, Nicholas, over what I say or do.’ She tried to keep the pain from her voice, for she had promised herself to stop hurting over that subject long ago. ‘It is possible that his invitation was nothing more than it sounded. I know the man better than anyone alive, and I can find many defects in him, but I do not fault his generous spirit.’
He had certainly been generous enough to her. After a two-month separation he was still paying all her bills, no matter the size. If he truly cared he would be storming into her apartments, throwing her extravagances back in her face, and demanding that she remove