Have Yourself a Merry Little Scandal: a Christmas collection of Historical Romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 1)

by Anna Campbell

  “You well know why I have not wed. Now that the time is upon me, I shall endeavor to make a success of it.” Cleburne blew out a breath. “I will not lead my family to misery.”

  “I have your word?” Thorne asked.

  “As a gentleman,” Cleburne vowed.

  Thorne nodded, then stood. “Very well, let us join the ladies so we can make the announcement before more damage can be wrought.”

  Cleburne sat his cup aside, then rose and followed Thorne from the library.

  Marriage to Juliet would not be such a burden. Indeed, if Thorne and Olivia valued the lady, Giles would come to as well, for he trusted their judgment. Leastwise, she was pleasant to look at, and he knew from their brief assignation that the two of them shared passion.

  Regardless of what the future held, he could be assured that his bed would never be cold, and he would always have something beautiful to gaze upon. There were worst fates, he supposed.

  He could be stuck with Kitty for a wife. Lord perish the thought.

  Perhaps this was fate, and all would end well. Giles would do all in his power to make sure the two of them had a happy future. If the lady met him even partway, there’s would be a successful union.

  By the time he and Thorne entered the office, Giles had convinced himself of the merits of taking Lady Juliet to wife. Rather than feeling as if he were being marched to his execution, he had hope for the future.

  Juliet and Olivia were sipping wine near the fire. Both stood when Giles and Thorne stepped into the room. So the last required a bit of her own fortification. Finding himself quite amused, he gave a devilish grin as he once more wished for a tumbler full of brandy.

  His gaze found Lady Juliet’s.

  She blushed, her cheeks blossoming with rose pink as she met his gaze.

  Giles strode over to her and reached for her hand. “Lady Juliet Gale, will you do me the honor of becoming my duchess?” There was no need for a proper proposal. Certainly not given their situation. Still, he wanted her to have one.

  She worried her bottom lip as he spoke. Then drank the wine that remained in her glass before replying, “It seems I must.”

  He wished she could muster some semblance of enthusiasm. He was a duke, after all. But given his reputation and the nature of their acquaintance, he could not blame her.

  Giles released her hand and proffered his arm. “Let us go and share the joyous news.”

  Her chin quivered slightly, but she held her head high as she accepted his arm. The lady was not only beautiful, but she was also brave. Cleburne could scarcely help but be pleased.

  Juliet would make him a wonderful duchess.

  Once he earned her respect.

  And dare he hope—her love?

  Chapter 6

  The lords and ladies crowding the ballroom went silent when Cleburne led Juliet through the doors. Everyone stared at them as the quartet’s music faded on a final note. Had someone told Juliet her night would wind up like this, she would have laughed.

  She certainly would not have believed them. She was not even sure she believed it herself, and she was living the experience. Pray, do not let this turn into a nightmare.

  The couples that had been dancing a moment before now strode from the polished dance floor, their gazes all curiously pinned on Juliet, Cleburne, Olivia, and Thorne.

  Juliet nearly groaned aloud. What she would give for the floor to open up right this minute and swallow her whole, transporting her to a better world.

  But that was the stuff of fiction, and this most certainly was not play-acting. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and willed her frantic pulse to slow as she cast her glance around the crowded room.

  Her gaze found Lady Lambert, and the woman had the audacity to smile at her. Juliet’s skin prickled. Anger replaced her heartache and anxiety. The lady was venomous, and Juliet prayed she’d someday receive her comeuppance.

  Perhaps she was receiving it this very moment, for Juliet suspected Lady Lambert had come to the library for a tryst with the duke of Cleburne. Maybe she had even meant to trap the duke into marriage with herself, and that was why she had made such a scene. Jealousy could be a wicked beast.

  Regardless, Lady Lambert’s actions—the scene she had created—were no doubt out of spite. Juliet took a measure of glee in the thought, then angled her head toward the dance floor, indicating to Thorne and Olivia that she was ready.

  Cleburne patted her hand as they walked across the room beside their friends. He brought her to stand beside Olivia and Thorne in the center of the dance floor, his hand still covering hers. Juliet plastered the best smile she could muster on her face as she looked out at the glittering room. For better or worse, they were about to announce their betrothal, and would soon be husband and wife.

  Thorne cleared his throat, drawing their guest’s attention to him. “It is my great honor to announce the betrothal of our dearest friends His Grace, the Duke of Cleburne, and Lady Juliet Gale.” He turned to them and smiled before offering a bow. “You have my most heartfelt congratulations.”

  Juliet curtsied and mustered the strength to say, “thank you.”

  Cleburne bowed back to him and offered his thanks too.

  Cheers and clapping filled the room as Thorne turned to the quartet and ordered them to play a waltz.

  Juliet felt like one of the animals on display at the tower as Cleburne swept her into his arms with the entire ton staring at them. She focused on keeping her smile in place as he led her through the scandalous dance steps.

  To her shame, her pulse sped, and the longing she’d experienced when he had been kissing her flooded through her once more.

  “I am sorry,” he said as he pressed his hand to the small of her back. “It was never my intention to ruin you, but now that I have, I swear to stand by your side. You have my word that I will care for and protect you from this moment forward.”

  Juliet said nothing, for what could she say? Think nothing of it? The dratted man had ruined her dreams. He’d altered the course of her life. She could not simply forgive him. Could she?

  What’s more, he did not vow fidelity or promise to love her. But then, how could he? He did not know her enough to love her, and it was not in his nature to be faithful to one woman.

  Pushing the thoughts away, she focused on the dance steps and kept her practiced smile firmly in place. It would not due for others to realize her unease.

  Not in the least, for what was done, was done. Now Juliet had to make the best of their engagement, and in the process, convince as many of their peers as possible that theirs was a genuine match rather than a forced union borne of scandal.

  Perhaps that meant she had to forgive him. That she had to trust him and try to make their union a success.

  If only he were not such a rogue. If she could trust him, she may well fall in love with him. But what good would come of loving a man who could not be faithful? No, Juliet had to forgo her dream of a love match. For if she gave her heart to Cleburne, her foolishness in doing so would only lead to it being broken.

  She cast her glance around the room. Good Heavens, she wished everyone would stop staring at them. Between the curious looks assessing them and Cleburne’s touch, she could scarcely focus. Her nerves were on edge, and she feared she’d have a misstep—or worse, cast up her accounts.

  This night could not end soon enough. She sought a friendly set of eyes and met Olivia’s gaze. Olivia smiled, encouragement radiating from her. Juliet moved her eyes from Olivia to the dance floor and back again, hoping to convey her wish to her friend.

  A moment later, Thorne swept Olivia on to the dance floor, and Juliet relaxed a small measure. Soon others would join too, then the focus would shift from her and Cleburne. Leastwise, she hoped it would.

  As it happened, her hope was unfounded. The moment the music stopped, lords and ladies swarmed in to offer felicitations and well wishes. Everyone, save for the two matrons who’d caught them and Lady Lambert, wished to spe
ak to her and Cleburne.

  As for the other three, Lady Lambert continued to watch them with a satisfied smirk while the matron’s cast disapproving glances in their direction every time they drew near.

  Juliet did her best to keep smiling as Cleburne led her from one group to the next. After a couple of hours, her cheeks were stinging from all the forced smiles, and she desperately wanted a drink to soothe her dry throat. She turned her gaze toward the refreshments and wondered how much longer it would be before they reached of the lemonade.

  Juliet breathed a sigh of relief when Thorne’s sisters approached. Louisa curtsied to Cleburne, unfurling a bright smile before she slipped her arm through Juliet’s. “I simply must steal her away. You don’t mind, do you?” She said, her tone cheery.

  “Not at all,” Cleburne met Juliet’s gaze, “Save the final dance for me.”

  “As you wish, Your Grace,” she gave a tight smile and curtsied to her betrothed.

  Luisa led Juliet toward the far wall, then paused at a wooden panel. At the same time, Catherine glanced over her shoulder before pushing it open. All three ladies darted through the hidden door into the adjoining parlor.

  Louisa twirled about, her hands clasped together. “This is so romantic! You must tell us everything,” she gushed.

  Catherine scowled, her brows drawing together. “Romantic my foot! You heard the gossip the same as me.” She sighed as she sat in a high-back chair. “It’s outrageous. I’m sorry, this has happened to you, Juliet.”

  “I am the one who is sorry. My actions have turned your ball into a spectacle.” Juliet sank onto a nearby sofa. “The night is supposed to be about the two of you, and now everyone has shifted their focus to Cleburne and me. I never meant to distract from you.”

  “Nonsense,” Louisa waved a dismissive hand as she came to sit beside Juliet. “The ball will be on everyone’s tongues. Surely our popularity shall only grow as a result.”

  “Louisa! Do hush. Think of the cost to Juliet, you ninny,” Catherine chastised her sister. “She’s ruined and being forced to marry!”

  Louisa angled herself toward Juliet as she replied, “I am thinking of her. She is to be a duchess now, and I have always found His Grace rather dashing. This could end very well for her.” She clasped her hands in front of her chest and sighed. “You could even fall in love.”

  Of all Juliet’s friends, Louisa was most like her. The girl always found the silver lining. If she and Juliet could trade slippers, Juliet would likely say the same things to her. Perhaps a bit of optimism was precisely what she needed, for nothing was to be gained by wallowing in self-pity and negative what if’s.

  “His reputation precedes him.” Juliet blew out a slow breath. “He is rather dashing, but I fear he will not make a good husband. Most assuredly not a faithful one. And if I feel in love with him only to discover him giving his attentions to others… My heart would shatter.”

  “Your fears are justified.” Catherine nodded, her tight curls bouncing with the movement. “You have every reason to doubt him. He is a hardened rogue.”

  “I hear rogue’s make the best spouses and lovers.” Louisa winked. “You could reform him, you know.”

  “Louisa!” Juliet and Catherine exclaimed at the same time. It did not surprise Juliet that the younger girl knew of such things, but innocent young ladies did not speak so freely. Leastwise, they should not.

  Louisa had the excellent sense to blush, but her green eyes held amusement in their depths.

  “How do you know of such things?” Catherine asked her sister.

  “People talk all the time, I cannot help what I overhear.” Louisa gave a nonchalant shrug. “And do not act so proper, Catherine. You well knew what I referred to, or you would not have been so shocked.”

  “Knowing and saying are two very different things, sister. Furthermore, I assure you, it is nonsense. The last thing any of us wishes for in a husband is a rogue.” She turned regret-filled eyes on Juliet. “Still, he is a close friend of my brothers. Surely there is something to recommend him. I have always found him pleasant company.”

  “And Olivia is fond of him as well,” Louisa added. “He is a frequent guest at our house. I have never thought his behaviors to be off-putting. On the contrary, he is helpful and kind.”

  Juliet brushed a curl from her forehead. “That is something to recommend him, indeed, for Olivia and Thorne would not keep company with a complete reprobate. Nor would they expose you two and Elizabeth to him if they did not trust him.”

  “Certainly not,” Olivia said as she entered the parlor from the hall. “I saw your skirt disappear through the panel. I slipped in form the ballroom to join you as soon as I could.” She came to sit in the chair beside Catherine. “How are you, dear?” She asked Juliet.

  “I am not quite sure,” Juliet answered honestly. A small part of her was furious. At the same time, the prospect of her marriage excited a tiny fraction of her, though she could not say why. Most of her felt numb, dumbfounded, flummoxed, confused. She did not know what to think or how to feel. “I just wish…” She blew out a breath, not at all sure what she wished. “This is all so unexpected.”

  Olivia reached out and clasped Juliet’s hand in hers. “I remember when I was facing a similar situation, and you helped me through it. I wanted nothing to do with my arranged marriage, but you saw all the positives and pointed them out to me.”

  Juliet shook her head. “Not that it helped. As I recall, you still fought the match.”

  Olivia laughed. “Very true, I did. But your positive outlook gave me something to think about and lessened my nerves. Furthermore, you were right.” She squeezed Juliet’s hand in a reassuring gesture. “Allow me to do the same for you.”

  “I was trying to do that very thing when you came in,” Louisa grinned. “I was assuring her of Cleburne’s merits and encouraging her to give the duke a chance.”

  Olivia turned her smile on Louisa. “That was good of you, dearest.”

  Juliet sighed, brining Olivia’s attention back to her. “Tell me one thing?” she asked.

  “I will tell you anything you wish to know. You need only ask,” Olivia said, her amber eyes filled with warmth.

  Juliet swallowed before saying, “Is he a good man?”

  “Indeed, he is. There is much to recommend him, and I believe he will make you a good husband.” Olivia said. “Pay little heed to the rumors. I will not deny the fact that he is a rogue, but I firmly believe he has his reasons and that he will forgo such behaviors now that he is to wed you.”

  Juliet would not forgive him easily, but if Olivia recommended him, she would at least allow the duke a chance to win her. She gave her first genuine smile since the incident. “Then I know all I need to.” She stood and said, “Let us return to the ball.”

  Chapter 7

  The Duke and Duchess of Thorne’s London home

  December 12, 1811

  Giles sat on a velvet settee in the Duke of Thorne’s red and gold drawing-room as he waited for Juliet to join him. He could not help but think that the room’s colors would complement her fair hair, bold blue eyes, and creamy complexion.

  As it turned out—he was correct.

  Juliet strolled into the room a few minutes later, her beauty stealing his breath. The red and gold made the perfect backdrop for her coloring and brought her into stark relief. Her hair appeared shinier, and her eyes a more profound, brighter blue. He determined on the spot to have one of his rooms redone with the same color palate.

  Perhaps the receiving room or family parlor. Maybe he would wait until he discovered which room she preferred to spend the bulk of her time in. As she entered, he stood and gave her a bow.

  He secretly wished she was not so beautiful. His mother had been a beauty according to most, but her inner self was anything but. He’d had the same experience with other beautiful women, too. He was confident of one thing—outer beauty did not equal inner beauty.

  God willing, that would not be t
he case where his intended was concerned. Giles could not bear it if Juliet turned out to be a nasty bit of fluff. He had no wish to spend the rest of his life as his parents had.

  In fact, he had always planned to wed a plain woman. One with a beautiful disposition, but not the sort that would capture every gentleman’s attention by merely being present in the space they occupied.

  He had even less of a wish to subject his, their future children to a childhood such as his had been. No child should grow up in the middle of a war waged between parents.

  It was not to be born!

  Giles would do all in his power to win Juliet’s affection and make their marriage one based on mutual respect and friendship, if not love. Anything else would be unacceptable to him, and he hopped her as well.

  To that end, he had spent the morning preparing for this afternoon’s visit.

  He went to her and offered a smile before capturing her hand in his and dropping a kiss to her knuckles. “How do you fare this afternoon?” He asked with genuine interest.

  The ball had gone far into the night, ending only a few hours before dawn. He knew her feet had ached, and she’d been bone wary, for she’d told him as much. Furthermore, she’d had an emotional evening that he speculated had not ended with the ball.

  It certainly had not for him. He had been awake struggling with their fate for hours after he returned home. Then he’d spent several more hours in fitful sleep. Dreams of the past haunted him as well as nightmares of what the future might hold. Giles awoke feeling no more rested than he had when he’d fallen asleep.

  “I am well,” she said. “Do join me by the fire. Tea will arrive henceforth.”

  Giles nodded, then followed her over to the sofa and chairs situated around the hearth. She sat on the end of the sofa, and he took the opportunity to sit beside her. He did not miss the slight stiffening of her shoulders. But neither did he regret encroaching on her space.

  He wanted her to grow used to his company—to welcome it, even.