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

by Anna Campbell

  “I’m sure I will. Good night, my lord.”

  “Yes, erm, goodnight.” The man hurriedly stepped back, practically fleeing down the hall.

  Lauren chewed her bottom lip as she quietly shut the door and relocked it. For a moment, she rested her head against the cool wood. How much harm would it cause her reputation if Sanderson bandied about that there was a man’s afternoon coat in her room? Perhaps she could bluff her way through it. Say it had been left there by mistake previously during a completely guiltless visit.

  “I warned you not to open that bloody door,” Theodore muttered into the curve of her neck. Arms wrapped around her tight, pulling her hard against his muscular body. His warm, broad chest burned her spine through their clothes, and Lauren fought the urge to sink into him.

  “I worried he might break it down,” she whispered back.

  “If he had, he’d find himself answering to a brace of my pistols at dawn.” He spun her around, cupping her jaw within the palm of his hand. “He saw my coat.”

  “He can’t possibly know that it is yours.”

  Theodore’s smile was indulgent. “Who else would dare enter your rooms?”

  Lauren had no answer for that. She gazed mutely up at him while he brushed her cheek with the knuckle of his forefinger.

  “You are so innocent in these matters, my dear,” he stated with an exasperated sigh. “If he hasn’t informed half of the guests by tomorrow morning, I would be very much surprised.”

  Leaving her slumped against the door, Theodore made his way over to the table holding the brandy. After pouring himself a hefty serving and downing it in one gulp, he took up his coat. Instead of shrugging into the garment, the garment was tossed over his arm. His intent was abundantly clear.

  “You are leaving?” Lauren rushed to his side, gripping his arm. “But why?”

  Theodore’s hand slid into her hair, fingers gently caressing the nape of her neck. Drawing her close, he pressed a kiss to her lips.

  Lauren tasted the brandy, sweet and heady, felt the warmth of his mouth, overwhelming and intoxicating, and she swayed against him.

  “You know very well why. Because I would take more.” His mouth brushed hers. “We both know you would not stop me. We cannot be trusted with each other, wouldn’t you agree? This is for the best, darling. Until you agree you will be my wife, it must be this way.” One more fleeting kiss and he was pulling away from her. “These are but tiny glimpses of heaven that whet our appetites, and because we are equally starved for each other, that is why I must go.”

  Chapter 14

  Theodore entered the library, heaving a deep breath of relief when he saw it was empty. On a sideboard in the corner sat a tray of liquor, and he poured himself a whiskey.

  Sinking into a deep chair, he rubbed a hand across his forehead.

  Lord, what an afternoon it had been. He still felt Lauren’s warm body as if he held her in his arms. But far worse, he could still taste her. Even through the burn of the whiskey, he tasted her.

  From his pocket, he withdrew a bit of the mistletoe he now carried everywhere. Twirling it between forefinger and thumb, he considered his plan. A frown spread across his face.

  It had proven more difficult than he’d thought, this winning of Lauren’s heart. Once on the verge of claiming the prize, morals now hijacked his goal. He still couldn’t quite understand what had happened or why it happened.

  He left her when she practically begged him to stay. Pushed her away while she pulled him closer. Ignored her lips when every nerve cell in his body shouted he should ravage her mouth.

  Only five days remained before the wager was officially over. He should call an end to things. Seduction may have been an unwise choice, especially now that his efforts had borne fruit.

  Maybe his greed, his pride, had gotten the best of him, turning him into someone like Sanderson. He’d stolen Lauren’s choices away. Made it all about what he wanted.

  Bloody hell if he’d hadn’t made an unholy mess of things.

  The door to the library creaked open, and Lord Settleton strolled in. He wore a smile, though there was a hardness in his eyes.

  “Ah, there you are, Hawthorne,” George said with a telling forced joviality. “I thought you had retired for the evening. At least, that’s what Sanderson said.”

  Theodore stiffened. Already running with the rumor. This will turn out badly. “What else did he say?” He slowly rotated the glass in his hand.

  “Very little.” There was a period of silence as George poured himself a drink. Taking a seat in the chair opposite of Theodore’s, his brow arched. “Why? Should he have said more?”

  “It is of no matter.” Theodore stared at the other man. A man he considered his friend. A man who also happened to be Lauren’s closest male relative.

  “It is the greatest of matters,” George returned calmly. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

  Tipping his head back, Theodore let out a frustrated sigh directed at the coffered ceiling. When next he met George’s calm gaze, his jaw ached from clenching, and his hands curled into fists. “Has he spread the tale any further than your ears?”

  “Not that I am aware. Only to myself, I think. I told Penelope, of course. She is with Lauren now, relaying the events. There were no promises from Sanderson that he would keep this confidential. He appeared ready to burst at the seams when relating what he saw.”

  “For all intents, Lauren and I are still engaged,” Theodore ground out. “It greatly dilutes any associated scandal.”

  “Many do not believe your engagement to be intact. That includes your betrothed, my friend.”

  Theodore scowled. “Damn Sanderson, anyway. The man is hell-bent on stealing her away for himself.”

  “Yes. It appears so.” George cocked his head. “What shall you do?”

  “I am inclined to silence the man permanently. But as I am currently enjoying your hospitality, and it is the holiday season, I shall restrain such murderous inclinations. Besides, other guests would probably not appreciate bloodshed during such a festive time.”

  Swallowing the remnants of the glass, Theodore rose to his feet. He smiled grimly at his soon to be cousin-in-law. “I shall try stifling Lord Sanderson, although ultimately this decision as to how Lauren and I proceed shall be hers to make. I’m a realist. I know our options, although she will most likely disagree with me.”

  “What choice shall she have?”

  Theodore’s heart twisted a bit because he wondered if Lauren would choose either scenario he planned to put forth. “A scandal before Christmas, or an elopement. Either way, we are bound to shock society.”

  “My mother?” Lauren stared at Penelope over the tea tray her cousin had personally delivered to her room. “She asked if you would invite Theodore, knowing you had already extended me an invitation? I don’t understand.”

  “Neither did I, at first. But then Lady Hawthorne requested the same, that I invite the earl if I was assured of your attendance.” Penelope squeezed Lauren’s hand. “I’m sorry, my dear. I swore I would not reveal the machinations which led to both of you being here, but at this point, I owe you the truth of the matter.”

  Lauren chewed her bottom lip, deep in thought. She actually was not surprised. Mother had asked several times if she had any intentions of forgiving Theodore. Lauren evaded giving an answer, knowing the fondness Mother held for the earl. It seemed she and Theodore’s mother had conspired together in the effort to bring Lauren and Theodore together once more.

  The question was, did it upset her as much as it should have? Was it the same as the scheming their fathers undertook?

  The truth of the matter was it didn’t feel the same. At least, not when Lauren carefully considered it. No, it rather seemed more a gesture of hopeless romanticism. Two mothers desperate for their children to fall back in love.

  “I think they mean well,” Penelope sighed.

  “Theo said something earlier. Perhaps he was trying to tell me,
but I paid no heed to his words.”

  “It is conflicting, isn’t it?” Her cousin laughed softly. “On one hand, it’s sweet. On the other, so very meddlesome. At least, Lord Hawthorne is prey to their interference along with you.”

  Lauren twirled the sash of the robe around her finger. It was a fresh garment, matching the new nightdress she wore beneath it. When Theodore departed earlier, she immediately changed clothes, hiding the ruined gown deep in her traveling chest. “I cannot blame him this time for the actions of our parents.”

  Penelope took a sip of tea. “What shall you do now?”

  “I must think upon it. If scandal would touch only myself, it would not concern me so much. But I’ve no wish for Mother or Lady Hawthorne to be impacted by our actions. I fought marriage based on the concept of being sold for my inheritance. This is different. I believe Theo truly loves me, and I—I love him. The principles for my breaking off the engagement haven’t changed, however. It was a betrayal of trust. I’m still overcoming that.”

  “It is a hard thing to forgive. But if ever a man deserved it, perhaps Lord Hawthorne is that man. His devotion to his family, to the care of his mother and his estates and those dependent upon him, is beyond reproach. He includes you in that circle, Lauren. Even after the death of your father, he has not stopped looking after you and your mother. George told me of Hawthorne’s oversight of your barrister. He was greatly concerned that your investments were handled properly, that your inheritance was secure. Even if you never saw him again, he would look after you because he promised your father he would.”

  Lauren’s eyes welled with tears. Theodore’s actions were so pure and struck her heart so deeply, they left her breathless. How selfish she had been in her anger. How stingy in her fury. The one person she could truly rely on for advice and comfort, and she’d rejected him. Cast him aside.

  “Penelope, I wonder if you would do something for me?”

  “Anything, my dear.”

  “Will you take me to Hawthorne’s rooms and grant me access? He and I have much to discuss before this night is over.”

  Penelope grinned. “That can be arranged. Anything else you might require?”

  Lauren thought about it for a moment before a wicked smile curved her lovely lips.

  “As a matter of fact, there is. Can you procure a bit of mistletoe for me?”

  Chapter 15

  Theodore found Lord Sanderson in the east parlor just before supper.

  The man was alone, a glass of whiskey in one hand, his brow scrunched into a frown. Visibly startled at seeing Theodore, he took a long gulp of the glass’s contents.

  Closing the pocket doors behind him with a soft click, Theodore advanced. There was no mistaking the sheen of sweat on the other man’s brow. Good. This might be easier to accomplish than previously thought. It certainly smoothed the path when one’s adversary was more than slightly intimidated.

  “A word, if you don’t mind, Sanderson.”

  “It—ah—it is near the time supper will be announced. We should not tarry, Hawthorne.”

  Theodore’s lips twisted slightly. “Our absence will not be remarked upon, least of all by our hosts.”

  Sanderson’s hands trembled, his gaze touching on Theodore’s black suit. “Is there something you wish to discuss?”

  Theodore poured himself a glass of whiskey as well, his eyes steady on the other man. Earlier, he had retired to his room, readying himself for supper by donning the required formal attire. “There are several matters, actually. But one rises above all others in terms of importance. You see, this particular subject is very dear to me. An extension of myself and one I will defend to my dying breath.”

  Sanderson swallowed. “I understand your meaning, sir.”

  With a tilt of his head, Theodore stalked closer. “Do you? Perhaps that is true.” He finally stood almost toe-to-toe with Sanderson, calmly regarding him as a trickle of sweat eased a path down the other man’s temple. “I prefer there to be no mistake when it comes to my expectations, so I will clearly state my purpose and the consequences if I am disappointed in any way.” Theodore’s stare flickered. “Another?”

  “P-Pardon?” Sanderson stuttered.

  “Another whiskey?” Theodore gestured at his empty glass.

  “No.”

  “Good. Now I can get right to the point.” Taking another sip of his whiskey, Theodore pinned the man with a dangerous glare. “Whatever you saw, or believe you saw in Lady Lauren’s rooms, dies a death this very instant. It will not be spoken of nor bandied about for the rumor mills to feast upon, and it most certainly will not serve as kindling for revenge after she rejected you. I am saying this in the clearest way possible, so there is no misunderstanding. Lady Lauren is my fiancée, soon to be my wife. Insulting her is an insult to me. You, or any man foolish enough to test the depths of my devotion, will face my wrath.”

  Sanderson had grown pale while Theodore spoke and, very carefully, he set his empty glass down on an elaborately carved occasional table.

  “I’ve told no one—”

  “Ah, that’s not entirely true, is it?” Theodore murmured.

  “I mentioned it to Lord Settleton just in case there was any confusion.”

  “I will not allow scandal to touch Lady Lauren. Whatever you believe you saw will not be spoken of from this moment on. Should word reach my ears that this warning has been ignored, I shall be left with no choice, Lord Sanderson. I will handle matters in the deadliest of fashions. With my bare hands, if necessary, and odds are I will enjoy it beyond the realms of decency. I would do this for the honor of the woman I love and for that of my family.” Theodore’s voice dropped to a husky, threatening growl. His eyes glittered with an icy blue blood lust that made the other man shudder with trepidation. “Do we understand one another?”

  “Perfectly, Lord Hawthorne. Perfectly.”

  Theodore’s teeth flashed in a satisfied, predatory grin. “Then let us drink to wise decisions and a long life. I, for one, am relieved I don’t have to kill you.”

  Theodore calmly sat through dinner, amused by Sanderson’s attempts at diverting attention away from the fact they entered the dining room together. The man stuttered and fumbled, but not once did he mention Lauren’s name, not even when Lord Jenkins pointedly asked if he’d had any luck during the afternoon games.

  Lady Emma was seated beside him, something he had not expected. She gave him a friendly smile while pointedly ignoring Lady Melanie’s angry glares and Lord Jenkins’ hungry glances.

  Penelope, seated at one end of the long table, merely nodded when Theodore caught her eye. Aware she’d spoken with Lauren, he wondered if she was vexed with him following their private conversation and curious what may have been divulged.

  “Lord Hawthorne, may I confide something?” Lady Emma hesitantly touched his sleeve as the first course of consommé was served.

  Theodore turned his attention to the petite brunette. “Of course.”

  “You were correct in your assessment regarding the dangers of playing certain games.” She blushed, her hand immediately returning to her lap.

  “What do you mean, Lady Emma?” Theodore took a sip of his sherry, noting Emma’s flush deepened even as her eyes sparked with anger.

  “I chose my hiding place today very carefully. So carefully, I was able to go undetected. Because of that, I overheard one of my pursuers describe to another gentleman of his acquaintance his intentions once he found me.” Her fists clenched in her lap. “At first, I was furious as they were obviously not following the rules of the game as explained to the rest of us. It seemed the men were hunting in pairs, assisting each other until a lady was located. I realize how naïve I was to ignore your warning. You were trying to help, and I foolishly dismissed your advice.”

  Theodore’s gut tightened. Had the games gone too far? Would the holiday be darkened by selfish lust and a belief this was only a bit of harmless fun? “What happened? Were you hurt?”

  “No,
no. I stayed in place until they moved away. I then decided I would return to my room until it was time to come down for dinner.”

  Relief trickled through Theodore. He smiled at her. “Given the opportunity to bet, I would have still wagered on you to win it all.”

  Emma grinned back, her dark eyes dancing. “I would have, too.” Glancing around the table, she located Lord Sanderson. “I’ve noticed Lord Sanderson is very careful not to mention Lady Lauren’s name, and she is not here for dinner. I hope she is well… that she… that she did not suffer some manner of upset.”

  Theodore sank back in his chair, considering this turn of events. Although he had efficiently muzzled Sanderson, others might mention Lauren’s absence during the course of the game. Especially since Sanderson had disappeared as well. It would insinuate something scandalous in nature had taken place, and that would not be abided.

  “Lady Lauren was in perfectly good health when last I saw her,” he said softly.

  Emma’s head tilted. “Yes. We had similar ideas when it came to hiding spots. I’m not sure what drove her out of hers, but together we quickly decided we would return to our rooms. Nothing seemed amiss when we parted ways, but perhaps something occurred after.”

  “You left the game together?” Theodore did not bother hiding his surprise.

  Emma intently considered him for a long moment. “Of course, we did. You understand, don’t you?”

  He knew full well Lauren had gone straight to her rooms. Because she followed his directive, she had not taken part in any aspect of the game.

  Emma was providing herself and Lauren a means of protecting their reputations.

  “Of course,” he nodded. “That was very kind of you.”

  Emma took a sip of sherry before returning to the business of eating her soup. “The kindness extended on behalf of Lady Lauren was my honor, I assure you. Should you see her before I do, will you give her my thanks?”