The Hotelier's Bride (The Balfour Hotel Book 2) Read online

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  The Hotelier’s Bride

  The Balfour Hotel Book 2

  Amanda Davis

  Contents

  Join our Family

  Story Description

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Finding Home

  Enjoy A Free Sneak Peek…

  Chapter 1

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  Can a plan to produce an heir, combined with a plan of deception and betrayal, lead to true love?

  Xavier Balfour has an ugly envy simmering in his soul.

  Each day, it grows like a weed wrapping its vines around the decency in his heart.

  As Xavier watches his legacy fall into the hands of his sister’s new husband,

  He concocts a plan to produce an heir.

  Entrusting his mother to play matchmaker,

  It matters little to Xavy whom he weds.

  The last thing he expects is to fall for Lady Elizabeth the moment he sets eyes upon her.

  Elizabeth knows she cannot allow herself to indulge in feelings for her betrothed.

  She and her mother, the Dutchess of Holden, have a plan of their own.

  A plan that includes deception and, ultimately, betrayal.

  A plan that does not include falling head over heels for the handsome Xavy Balfour.

  Prologue

  It was unbecoming, the ugly envy that seemed to be simmering inside Xavier’s soul. Each day, it grew like a weed, suffocating, wrapping its vines around the decency in his heart and reducing him to a glowering shadow of his former self.

  Xavier was aware of it, of course. It was difficult to ignore, after all, yet there was little he could do to sate it.

  It is nearly impossible with Emmeline bringing that outsider into our family affairs.

  He longed to be happy for her, the new life his sister had brought into the hotel casting a ray of light over his dismal thoughts. But, even with the new arrival of his niece, Xavier Balfour could not suppress the overwhelming disappointment at the turn of events that had led his legacy to fall into the hands of Elias Compton.

  You are being ridiculous, he chided himself. Elias is your brother-in-law now.

  Nothing seemed to stifle the mounting resentment inside him and, as the days passed, January faded into early February, but the promise of spring was still long off.

  Xavier grew increasingly restless.

  He was a tall man, Xavier. Strangely so, considering the height of his father and mother, but it did distinguish him from others in his presence. With a sweeping mane of blond hair and emerald eyes, he was oft the center of talk among the ladies who vied for his attention. That day was no different as he glided swiftly through the lobby, nodding amiably despite the anger burning in his chest.

  “Good morrow, Mr. Balfour,” Matthew called from the concierge desk.

  “Is my father present?” Xavier asked, rudely ignoring Matthew’s greeting. But Matthew seemed accustomed to the brusqueness and nodded pleasantly.

  “Indeed, sir. Shall I announce you?”

  “You need not bother. I will do it myself.”

  Without giving Matthew an opportunity to react, he entered his father’s office, sans indication of his arrival.

  Charlton Balfour scowled from behind his massive desk.

  “You of all should know better than to interrupt a man when he is working.”

  “I see you are alone,” Xavier commented without addressing his father’s annoyance. “Where is Elias?”

  “I sent him off to spend time with Emmy and the baby.”

  Xavier grunted obtusely and narrowed his eyes.

  “Women have been bearing children for centuries,” he reminded his father. “It is the man’s task to work.”

  “Xavier, is there a matter that you came to discuss, or are you merely here to recount your displeasure that Elias is now part owner of the hotel?”

  Xavier’s jaw locked defiantly.

  He dismisses me now that Elias is here. As if that peasant could possibly provide better for the hotel that bears my family’s name than I.

  At that moment, Xavier realized what it was that had been troubling him, the elusive point he had been unable to identify.

  Elias has replaced you in Father’s eyes.

  “Xavier!” Charlton snapped, his patience wearing thin. “What is the matter? Out with it, please. I have much work to attend to today.”

  Xavier lifted his head, his eyes meshing with the older man’s.

  “I have decided to marry,” he announced, and Charlton’s brow shot up in bemused surprise.

  “Marriage? You?” he chortled. “Who is the unsuspecting wench?”

  Xavier bristled at the crass language.

  “Do you think so poorly of me that you think I would wed beneath our status?” he demanded.

  “My son, I do not claim to know the first thing about what you would do in this situation,” Charlton chuckled. “I do believe this is the first time I have ever heard you use the word ‘marriage’ without cringing.”

  “A man can change, Father,” Xavier insisted. “Perhaps I am inspired by what Emmeline has found in Elias.”

  “Inspired or envious, Xavy?”

  Xavier tensed but willed himself to remain composed.

  “Father, we must regain control of the Balfour Hotel—the Balfours, not some outsider.”

  “I have control of the hotel,” Charlton reminded him, but Xavier did not miss the shadow that fell over his father’s face.

  He did not feel confident in selling to Elias, either, but what choice did he have?

  “They already have one child,” Xavier murmured softly. “We are fortunate it is a girl, but what if Emmy births sons?”

  “It does not change the fact that we still own the majority of the hotel,” Charlton reminded him. “What can we do about it if they birth a litter of boys?”

  “Boys become men, and men become greedy,” Xavier hissed. “Look at how Elias has stepped—”

  Charlton raised a hand to silence his son.

  “I must admit, I am growing weary listening to the same tired argument, Xavier. What is it you wish from me?”

  “I want for you to arrange a match for me.”

  Charlton scoffed and eyed Xavier with mild contempt.

  “This might be a task better suited to your mother, Xavier,” he muttered, and it was Xavier’s turn to be dubious.

  “Mother?” he echoed. �
��Father, I do not think—”

  “Xavier, I have a business to attend to. I cannot submit to your whimsy because you are in competition with Elias. From all I have gleaned, he is a good man with pure intentions.”

  A good man who has blinded both my sister and my father while taking what is rightfully ours.

  Xavier did not speak the words aloud. After all, they would not have been in such a position if Charlton had not put the family at such risk.

  “Speak to your mother if you are sincere in your desire to find a wife,” Charlton told him dismissively. “It will do her good to focus on something other than…”

  He did not finish his thought, but he did not need to complete his statement—Xavier knew what it was that plagued his mother, Anne.

  “Is there another matter, Xavy?”

  The question was a dismissal, but Xavier did not move.

  “Father?” he asked, and Charlton grunted quietly.

  “Yes?”

  “Does Elias’s presence here not trouble you in the least?”

  Charlton raised his eyes to meet his son’s, his lips tightening.

  “Until he gives me cause for concern, I have little say in the matter,” Charlton replied, but it told Xavier much in so few words.

  He is no happier about Elias than I am. We must find a way to see him out of his shares and reclaim the family legacy back into our hands.

  “Xavier, if there is nothing else…”

  “I will speak to Mother,” Xavier replied, nodding curtly. “Good day.”

  Charlton did not bother to respond, and the younger Balfour shifted toward the door to leave the proprietor in peace.

  Father may be passive in this intrusion to our family, but I will not stand by and permit it to happen. It is on my shoulders to save this family.

  As he hurried from the office toward the broad, winding staircase, Xavier paused, guilt flooding him instantly.

  His sister slowly descended, a bundle of blankets in her arms as her handmaiden fluttered nearby awkwardly.

  At her side, Elias took her arm, and for a moment, Xavier felt as though he was staring at a painting, rather than his family.

  “Good morrow, Xavier!” Emmeline breathed, her face still pale from the experience of childbearing, but there was most certainly a happy glow about her, which had not been there before the birth.

  “Good morrow, Emmy,” he murmured, slipping forward to steal a glance at the baby in her arms. He all but ignored Elias, who had yet to speak.

  “How is our princess faring?” Xavier asked.

  “She is perfect,” Emmeline sighed, her eyes twinkling. “Would you care to hold her?”

  Xavier shook his head and laughed, stepping back.

  “I would not know how,” he chuckled.

  “Mrs. Compton, I am pleased to take her,” Cora muttered, looking uncomfortable that her mistress held the baby at all.

  “As I have told you several times already, Cora, I am quite capable of holding my own child.”

  Cora balked and lowered her eyes, wringing her hands against the crisp white of her apron.

  “You should rest,” Elias told his wife tenderly, reaching for baby Catherine. With shocked eyes, Xavier watched his sister hand the bundle of white blankets to her husband.

  The nanny stands at their side! What will the guests think if they see him handling the baby?

  It was merely one more reason for Xavier to think poorly of his new brother-in-law.

  He does not know his place. He thinks he is still a shop owner in Peterborough, not the proprietor of a luxurious hotel. Elias will drag down our prestige with his uncouth ways.

  “I have done little else than rest for a fortnight!” Emmeline complained. “I want to be up again, working in the hotel.”

  The words sent a small sliver of apprehension through Xavier. When Emmeline resumed her duties, Elias certainly would also.

  And it will be that much more difficult to hide my intentions.

  “I believe you should listen to your husband,” Xavier said crisply. “Father and I have matters under control while you take the time you require to recover fully. You would not want to fall ill.”

  “Xavier is correct, Emmeline. There is nothing that your brother and I cannot handle with your father.”

  Xavier’s jaw locked, and he glanced furtively at Elias, but the man’s eyes were fixed on the face of his infant daughter.

  A now-familiar stone formed in the base of Xavier’s chest as he stared balefully at Elias.

  He has everything that I deserve, he realized, the hot jealousy sweeping through him again. The hotel, my father’s appreciation, a wife and a child.

  It was stunning to the dashing and charming Xavier that such a wave of envy could consume him when he watched Elias, yet he knew it was precisely what he felt.

  Not for long, he vowed. Soon I will be better off than Elias.

  “Are you well, Xavy?” Emmeline asked with concern. “You seem positively enraged.”

  Quickly, he forced a smile and shook his head.

  “Not in the least,” he replied. “I must go, however. I must speak with Mother.”

  Emmeline’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Mother?” she echoed. “What about?”

  Xavier’s smile widened, more sincerity piping through the curve of his mouth.

  “It is a secret,” he replied in a staged whisper, his eyes glittering mischievously, and Emmeline giggled.

  “Why does that cause my heart to race with concern?” she asked while he beamed at her. “Your secrets are infamously worrisome.”

  “The news is good,” he promised her, his smile fading slightly as he considered, for the first time, what his plan might do to his sister.

  She is still a Balfour, Xavier reminded himself. She does not need Elias when she has us.

  “I must go,” Xavier continued, nodding at her and again ignoring Elias.

  “Good luck with Mother,” Emmeline whispered, her dark-lashed eyes darting about to ensure she had not been overheard.

  Good luck, indeed, Xavier thought grimly, climbing the stairs toward Anne’s bedchambers. I am putting my future into the hands of a drunk, after all.

  Yet it did not stop Xavier from making his way to her suite and knocking gently on the door to announce himself.

  I would rather be matched by Mother’s inebriated hand than watch the Balfour Hotel fall into Elias Compton’s.

  Xavier’s only hope was that he would not lose his beloved sister when Elias was forced to leave.

  Chapter One

  The glass about the conservatory panes had frosted, making a look outside impossible.

  Lise was quite certain her mother had arranged the setting purposely, knowing that there would be no way for her daughter to see who was approaching. It was a sound move on the part of the duchess, but Lady Elizabeth Burnaby was a near wreck of nerves as she sat shivering in the glass house.

  Most of the greenery had perished in the frigid winter temperature, but one strong vine had survived, and Lise found herself staring at it for inspiration to guide her through the next moments.

  What is the meaning of this secrecy? Why could we not attend this interview inside the manor?

  They were questions she could only ask her mother, but the Duchess of Holden had been conspicuously absent all morning, leaving Lise to follow the housekeeper through the icy fields into the conservatory.

  Bernadette stood by quietly, but even in her steadfast stoicism, Lise could feel the servant’s eyes upon her.

  “What is the hour, Bernadette?” Lise asked, trying to keep the words from trembling in her speech.

  “Just before eleven, Lady Elizabeth.”

  “What is keeping her?” Lise snapped with a great deal more irritability than she had intended. “I have been here for a quarter hour already!”

  “Shall I fetch you a cup of tea, Lady Elizabeth?”

  Instinctively, Lise wrapped her cloak about her shoulders and wrenched her ey
es away from the thriving plant to stare almost angrily at Bernadette as though she was somehow to blame for the situation.

  “I would rather that you fetch the duchess,” Lise replied shortly. She barely had a moment to process the flash of uncertainty in Bernadette’s eyes when the door opened and Duchess Holden entered in a sweeping air of grace and poise.

  Lise’s mother stopped to gape at her daughter in surprise.

  “It is quite cold in here!” Duchess Holden announced, and Lise’s brow raised in shock.

  “Is that stunning, Mother?” she demanded. “It is the month of February, and we have not a hearth in here.”

  “Bernadette, fetch a pot of tea at once. Our guest will be arriving shortly, and these accommodations will not do!”

  Lise was almost grateful that they would, at the minimum, be returning indoors, but to her chagrin, the Duchess only moved further into the structure as Bernadette curtsied and scurried away to oblige her request.

  “Mother, what is the meaning of this?” Lise asked in exasperation. “Why must we meet here?”

  Duchess Holden did not reply and instead glided toward the cast iron table set where she gently perched upon a small chair.

  “You need not be dramatic, my dear,” her mother replied as she adjusted her gloves uncomfortably. It was plain to see that she was as cold as Lise, but her face did not betray an iota of what she was thinking.

  “I am cold, Mother.”

  Duchess Holden scowled.

  “Use your patience, Lise. Why do you think I have chosen such a discrete meeting place?”

  A shiver coursed through Lise, but it had little to do with the temperature.

  “Mother, what have you done?” Lise whispered, her slate-gray eyes darting toward the door, lest Bernadette return.