The Christmas Secret Read Online Free PDF Page A

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    First Pocket Books ebook edition November 2011
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    ISBN 978–1–4516–6934–3

Chapter One
     
    ENGLAND
CHRISTMAS SEASON, 1808
     
    As a boy growing up on the banks of the Hudson River in New York, Henry Bristol had dreamed of sailing the world on a merchant ship, or residing on a farm with packs of dogs and herds of horses to keep him company. As a man, he did indeed possess four fine hunting dogs and a herd of horses. But regrettably, on a voyage from America to England, he’d discovered, in the cruelest manner, that he would never be a sailor. He’d spent most of the monthlong voyage in his bunk, green as a toad and quite ill.
    Henry had never dreamed that he, of all men, would be struck by such a debilitating malady as seasickness. He’d been made strong and robust from the years spent working on his family’s vast farming operations while his brother, Thomas, had managed the family brickyard. Henry had liked his living and the physical work. But Henry had liked horses more, and at the age of twenty-six, there had arisen an opportunity for him to train under one of the premier horse breeders in all of Europe. He’d convinced his family that he was destined for horse breeding greatness, and on a sunny summer afternoon, he’d sailed from New York for England on the biggest ship he’d ever seen.
    The ship had scarcely cleared the harbor when Henry had felt the first sickening roil in his belly.
    There had been no end to the illness; he’d fought it for a full month of the voyage. He’d never been so grateful to the Almighty as he’d been when the ship reached England and he’d been on terra firma once more.
    With his legs firmly under him, Henry had made his way to London as had been prearranged, only to find a letter at his hotel: Declan O’Conner, the Earl of Donnelly, the unparalleled horse breeder who had agreed to tutor Henry, was in the midst of breeding a horse for a Danish count and could not commence his instruction for a month or more. That was quite all right with Henry; he proceeded to recover from his horrible passage by enjoying the fruits the vibrant town of London had to offer—which, frankly, were many when one had letters of introduction from families with footholds in both the New and the Old Worlds.
    The fact that Henry was an American, and therefore something of a curiosity, meant that he was soon besieged with invitations to fine salons, to hunts, to horse races with purses that astounded him. Henry was introduced to beautiful women and learned the steps to the most popular dances. He was just beginning to feel at home when he was informed that Lord Donnelly had rushed back to Ireland in advance of some scandal so astonishing that Donnelly’s retainer, a small man named Fish, could scarcely speak of it.
    “But I have paid handsomely for this opportunity,” Henry said with a bit of exasperation as a small curl of panic unfurled in his belly. “Does the earl intend to renege on our agreement?”
    “Certainly not,” Mr. Fish said, as if the suggestion had been ludicrous, even in light of this astonishing scandal that had forced the earl to flee to Ireland. “Nevertheless, it is not convenient for his lordship at this time.”
    Henry attempted to be cross and disappointed, but he could not manage it. As it happened, London was convenient for him, and he merrily joined his new friends in the gentlemen’s clubs that seemed to stand on every Mayfair corner. He became a rather