Yuletide Treasure by Andrea Kane

maid, much less your paramour. She suggested that I wait until I matured, then cast my eye on your coachman, or any one of your hundred other male servants—excluding, of course, your valet and butler, who would shudder at my lack of breeding.” Even after all these years, memories of Liza’s cold tirade brought tears of humiliation to Brigitte’s eyes. “I remember my stunned disenchantment—where was that fairy-tale princess I’d envied for so long? Then, Liza’s words sank in, and I realized that, cruel as her intentions might be, her assertions were correct. We’re all equal in the eyes of the Lord, but not in the eyes of others. Therefore, regardless of how good and honorable I was, I had no place in your life.
    â€œKeeping that in mind, I heard your sister out, then gathered up the skirts of my less-than-acceptable gown and marched off. I held my chin high, not because I felt defiant, but because I refused to cry in Liza’s presence. Nor did I—until I reached my home and my bed. There, I wept and wept until my tears and my dream had washed away.”
    â€œBrigitte …” It wasn’t until Eric said her name that Brigitte realized he was holding her face, his thumbs capturing her tears.
    â€œThat confrontation didn’t change anything, you know,” she whispered. “Not really. Liza destroyed my hope, but not my love. I never stopped loving you, Eric. I never will.Especially since that afternoon in your chambers.” Brigitte smiled softly. “Regardless of how little our physical joining meant to you—to me, it meant everything.”
    Squeezing his eyes shut, Eric groaned, stark emotion slashing his features. Then, he enfolded Brigitte against him, pressing her cheek to his heart. For long moments he said nothing, just held her, stroking her hair with a shaking hand.
    At last he spoke.
    â€œEverything you’ve said about Liza is true. With one exception. Who she was, what she became— was my fault. I was the one who molded her character. I catered to her every whim, purchased the world for her in order to compensate for our parents’ deaths, devoted my entire life to her happiness.”
    â€œWhat about your life?” Brigitte asked the question that had plagued her for years. “Friends? Acquaintances?” A pause. “Women?”
    â€œI was thirteen when my mother and father died. In truth, I never missed them; most likely because I scarcely knew them. I was raised by a governess and sent off to school the instant I could read. Even during holidays, my parents weren’t home. They were far too restless to remain at Farrington; they were always dashing off on one adventure or another. I thought Liza’s birth would encourage them to settle down. It didn’t. When she was four months old, they sailed on an expedition to India. There was a horrible storm. Their ship sank. Suddenly, I was the Earl of Farrington—overseer of a neglected estate, faltering businesses, and a newborn babe. My childhood—whatever there was of it—came to an abrupt end. Thus, to answer your question, I had no time for diversions, no time for anything but work and Liza. Acquaintances? I had scores of them through my business dealings. Friends? I had none. Women?” Roughly, Eric cleared his throat. “When I needed one, I sought one out.”
    If Brigitte loved her husband before, she loved him all the more now—now that she understood the magnitude of his sacrifice. “So Liza was unused to sharing you with anyone.”
    â€œIndeed. She was also unused to sharing my money.” Ericinhaled sharply. “Shall I tell you why she ran off?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Because I lost my fortune. It was that simple. When Liza was sixteen, I made one immense, unwise investment, and suddenly my wealth vanished. I waited until I had no choice but to tell her—although, fool that I was, I