A Hero for Christmas

Meriweather is your friend, and you should want him to be happy, an annoying little voice whispered from the back of his brain. And you have nothing to offer Cat other than a lie.

Even so, he was unable to meet his friend’s eyes as he took the cup Cat held out to him. He took a sip. It was delicious, but it could not warm the cold at his core when he thought of her hand in Meriweather’s.

Lord, give me the strength to do what is right for Meriweather and Cat. They deserve a better friend than I have been. It is bad enough that I am a fake hero. Do not let me become a false friend, too.

“You will have to come back in the summer,” Meriweather said, still grinning. “It should be a bit warmer for bathing in the sea then.”

“Actually the North Sea stays cold all year.” Cat sat as gracefully as she had risen.

“Then maybe your dip in the sea wasn’t so want-witted, after all.” Meriweather chuckled.

The familiar fury rushed through Jonathan. For once, it was not aimed at himself. If Meriweather thought to belittle him in front of Cat, then he was not the friend Jonathan had thought him to be.

“What would you have me do?” he fired back. “Stand there trying to decide whether I should help or not while a child was drowning?”

He realized his voice had been too heated and his words poorly chosen when color drained from Meriweather’s face and Cat gasped. Meriweather put his cup on a nearby table. Pushing past Jonathan, he walked out of the room. The door slammed in his wake.

“Oh, my!” Cat whispered. Her face was as pale as Meriweather’s had been.

Jonathan strode toward the door but halted when Cat called out to him. He turned. Distress dimmed her eyes as she slowly rose again.

“How could you say that?” she asked, each word lashing him. “How could you make a joke about his inability to make a decision?”

He almost snapped back that she had not come to his defense when Meriweather was jesting about him. Then he recalled that neither Meriweather nor Cat understood how Meriweather’s humor sliced into him. They had no idea that he was a fake hero who needed to prove his worth.

He sighed. Upsetting everyone was not his intention. It was his fault that he had been such a beef-head earlier. It was also his own fault that he had been foolish now. How could he foist his blame on his friend?

“I meant him no insult,” Jonathan said, wondering if Cat would believe him.

“You don’t need to explain that to me.” Her voice was strained. “You need to tell my cousin that.”

“Miss Catherine, I trust that you know that I meant him no insult. He is one of my dearest friends.”

She walked to where he stood and tilted her head back to meet his eyes. “Of course I do, and, deep in his heart, Cousin Edmund knows, too. He is frustrated at how the war changed him.”

He tried to comprehend her words, but it was difficult when her face was at the perfect angle for him to lean down and brush her lips with his. He shoved that thought away. Already he had wounded his good friend. He did not need to hurt her, as well.

“At least you have a few good memories of what you experienced,” she went on when he did not answer.

“Very few.” He thought of the camaraderie he had enjoyed during the war.

“You can always recall that you saved Charles’s life. My cousin doesn’t have that to comfort him.” She looked past him to the door. Her amazing eyes were the color of the hot chocolate and just as warm when they focused on him again. “I hope when we go to London, it is not too much for him. He plans to take his seat in Parliament, and the other lords will expect him to vote on issues brought before them.”

“While you enjoy all the events of the Season.” He managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“I don’t know about all the events, but I am excited about going to London.”

“I am sure you are.” He bowed his head toward her. “If you will excuse me, Miss Catherine, I need to make my amends to Meriweather.”

If she replied, he did not hear her, as he rushed from the room before he gave in to the temptation to grasp her by the shoulders and try to instill some good sense into her. He despised the idea of charming, innocent Catherine Meriweather changing as his siblings had to meet the expectations of the ton.

Maybe he could talk her out of going. He had no idea how, but he must try before Cat’s life became an illusion just as his sisters’ lives had.

Just as his was.

Chapter Four

“Catherine?” Meriweather grumbled under his breath and loosened his cravat to begin tying it again in front of the glass in his grand bedchamber. “Of course I like her. She is my cousin.”

Jonathan sat and watched. He doubted his friend would ever get the complicated arrangement of his cravat to his satisfaction. He could help, but that was not the reason he had come to speak with him at such an early hour.

Meriweather’s valet stood to one side, eager to offer his assistance. The short, pudgy man clasped his hands behind his back only to suddenly reach out to assist his lord, but then drew his hands back and clasped them again.

“Lane, that will be all,” Meriweather said without glancing at his valet.

Lane bowed his head before leaving.

“The servants are too loyal here,” Meriweather said. “They listen at doors in hopes of serving us better.”

“Or to have some tidbit of gossip to share in the kitchen.”

Meriweather chuckled, then grew somber as he drew on his waistcoat and began buttoning it. “You know, I never had a manservant before. I was quite capable of dressing myself, but I have come to depend on Lane to lay out my clothing and assist me.”

“As you should, now that you hold the title of Lord Meriweather.” Jonathan pretended not to hear his friend’s frustration. Meriweather was more distressed about not being able to decide which clothing to wear each day than having a man to brush the lint from his coat.

“You aren’t here to discuss how I’ve become accustomed to the life of quality. You didn’t bring the papers with you, so you are not here to have me sign them.”

“If you are ready to review the lease, I can get the paperwork now.” Jonathan started to rise. He wondered why he had not put the facts together before he had arrived at Meriweather Hall. He should have guessed when Meriweather arranged to lease a house on a fashionable square in London that he intended to fire off his cousin into Society.

“Not now.” He motioned for Jonathan to sit again. “What is bothering you, Bradby?”

“Your cousin.”

“I usually would say you must be more specific, but I have eyes, and I have noticed how often yours are on my cousin Catherine.” He buttoned up his dark blue waistcoat. “Not that I can blame you, for she is charming and lovely. I assume you find her that and more.”

Jonathan considered his words with care. He knew the power of words from his law work. “Odd that you should say that after what I witnessed.”

“Witnessed? Speak plainly, man!”

“I saw you holding her hand.”

“Me? I never—” His eyes widened. “Of course. In the small parlor the other day. She asked my advice and was distressed by what I told her. What you saw was familial affection. Nothing more.” He turned from the mirror and grinned. “Do you have another type of affection for my younger cousin?”

“I barely know her, and she barely knows me.”

“She appears to know more about you than you suspect.”

That shook Jonathan. He had been certain that his secret was so well hidden that nobody would perceive it. His friends had not, because they thoroughly believed the lie that he was a brave hero. How had he betrayed the truth to Cat?