Free His Christmas Pleasure by Cathy Maxwell

father said. “This is a serious subject.”
    “We are being serious,” her mother answered.
    “Catherine, we discussed this last night,” her father said. “You agreed that if I could find a man willing to marry Abigail for her money, there was a risk he’d forget her as soon as he had it in hand.” He looked to Abby. “Those sorts of men are philanderers, gamblers, scoundrels. I want much more for my only daughter. I want security for you.”
    “I want the same, Father. Can you not trust me to make my own choice?”
    “No.”
    His answer stunned her.
    “I’ve spent years watching you moon over Freddie Sherwin,” he said. “And while you were thinking him so heroic and marvelous, I was thinking him a proper idiot. He can’t make up his mind about anything. A real man sets his sights on a goal and goes after it with the intensity of a dog after a bone.”
    “Are you comparing me to a bone, Father?” Abby asked, knowing such a deliberate misunderstanding would annoy him, and it did.
    “None of your games, Missy. I’m well aware that you’ve a shrewd mind …
    although why you dream of Sherwin is a mystery to me. I’m protecting you for your own sake—and your mother agrees.”
    Abby rounded on her, wanting the truth of it from her.
    Her mother’s lips parted, as if she’d been caught in surprise before she admitted, “I did agree. We want you well taken care of.”
    “And did you marry Father for security, Mother?”
    “It was a different day and age,” her mother hedged. “Everything now is so push, push, push. I know what the poets say, but the truth is, Abby, falling in love is a ticklish prospect. As we’ve said to you before, your father and I were most fortunate. And I do think Freddie loves you. But he’s not courageous. Your father was, and perhaps that is the big difference between them. Love calls for courage.”
    “There must be someone else,” Abby insisted. “I can’t sleep in the same bed with Lord Villier. I won’t.”
    Both of her parents were rather reserved. Her words brought color to her mother’s cheeks.
    However, her father surprised her. He muttered something under his breath and then said with steely resolution, “You might not have to put up with him very often. He has enough children as it is. But if it comes to that, daughter, and it must, because a marriage has to be consummated to be valid, then I expect you to carry on smartly. Let him do his diddling while you think on other things. I can’t imagine it will take a man like him more than a minute or two.”
    Now it was Abby’s turn for her cheeks to burn.

    Her father continued, pressing his case. “Lynsted is a bastard for jilting you, but we can salvage this. Villier is considered a catch by many—”
    “None of them under forty, I’d wager,” Abby murmured.
    Her frankness earned an amused light in her father’s eye. “It’s a wager I’d not take,” he conceded. He looked to her mother. “This is what happens when I teach my daughter to speak her mind and value her intellect. And I’m not sorry for it, except for times like these, when I must act for your own best interests, Abigail.”
    Everything inside Abby wanted to rebel … but there was the small fear he might well be right.
    Her father crossed over to her. “You may never understand this until you are much, much older, Abby, my girl, but I am acting in your best interests. I will accept Villier’s offer if he makes one.” He placed a kiss on her forehead and left the room.
    A moment later, the front door shut. He was gone, back to his banks, to his investments, his other life.
    Her mother broke the silence. “He really does want what is best for you.”
    “Thirteen children.” That’s all Abby had to say.
    Her mother nodded, understanding.
    From down the hall, someone rang the front bell. They had a caller, and Abby thought that both she and her mother were thankful for the intrusion.
    Abby had to believe things would be better.