'Twas the Night After Christmas Read Online Free PDF

ill-considered actions.”
    “They were not ill-considered! And I’ll tell him so myself, if it comes down to it.”
    Lady Devonmont flashed her an impatient glance. “You will do nothing of the kind. You have your boy to think of.” She mused a moment, a sudden look of calculation on her face. “But since Pierce didn’t mention that you were the one to write him, perhaps he’s not so very angry about it, after all. So we’ll leave it alone, make no more mention of it.” She paced before the fire. “Yes, that’s how to handle it. And if he tries to dismiss you, I’ll hire you myself, using my pin money. He gives me enough for that.”
    Guilt attacked Camilla with a vengeance. “My lady, I don’t want—”
    “Nonsense, that’s the only thing to do.” Lady Devonmont pressed her hand to her forehead. “I have a bit of a headache, so I think I shall lie down for a while before dinner.”
    Camilla sighed. That was one thing about Lady Devonmont; she always made it perfectly clear when she wanted to end a discussion. “Of course. I’d be happy to read to you, if you like.”
    “No need for that.” She glanced at Camilla. “Though if you don’t mind telling Mrs. Beasley about his lordship wanting a tray in his room . . . ”
    “Certainly.” She was being sent off. Miraculously, her ladyship had overlooked her impertinence.
    Unfortunately, his lordship probably wouldn’t. And despite everything she’d said to Lady Devonmont, the woman was right. Camilla had risked much with her deception. She deserved to lose her position over it.
    But she hadn’t dreamed he would have such a visceral reaction after the way he’d been behaving, never answering his mother’s letters, never coming to see her. Camilla had expected him to flit in, say a few words to his mother, pretend to be relieved that she was well, and flit out. And if seeing his mother coaxed him into staying for a bit, all the better.
    Not in a million years had Camilla expected him to be alarmed at the possibility of his mother dying. And then angry that he’d been deceived.
    Indeed, the more Camilla thought about that as she headed for the kitchen, the angrier she became. What could Lady Devonmont possibly have done to deserve such behavior? How could any man resent a woman of such grace and kindness? It was unfathomable.
    Her ladyship thought she should leave it alone, but she just couldn’t. If not for the countess, Camilla might be working for some condescending matron who insisted that Jasper be left at his uncle’s. So as long as Lady Devonmont was on her side, she would fight for the woman, even against the earl. Her ladyship was the closest thing to a family that Camilla had ever had.
    She entered the kitchen, where Mrs. Beasley was whipping the servants into a frenzy with preparations for dinner.
    “Is Mr. Fowler going to be here for dinner, too?” Cook asked the housekeeper as she basted a pork loin. “He don’t like pork, y’know.”
    “I don’t think he’s coming,” Mrs. Beasley said. “I hope not, anyway. With his lordship here, he’s sure to put on airs.”
    “I doubt that,” Camilla interjected. “Mr. Fowler never puts on airs.”
    Mrs. Beasley eyed her askance. “That’s only because he’s sweet on you.”
    “Oh, please, not that again,” Camilla murmured. “Mr. Fowler is nearly old enough to be my father.”
    “That don’t mean nothing,” said Cook, who saw romance blooming everywhere she looked. “And he’s always asking how you’re getting on with her ladyship, always wanting to know what you two are up to. He’s got his eye on you—I’m sure of it.”
    Camilla did think he had his eye on someone, but not her. Of course, if her suspicions were correct and he was sweet on the countess, she could never tell the servants such a thing. They would be appalled.
    It was fruitless anyway—Lady Devonmont always said she didn’t mean to marry again, and in any case, the social gulf between Mr. Fowler and