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

by Anna Campbell

  “Yes. You were standing on the garden terrace. It was before Lady Monica began playing, and you were consoling a child. Lady Monica’s little sister, I believe it was.”

  “Lillith. She’d dropped her doll, and the porcelain head broke on the tiles. Poor dear was inconsolable.” Lauren frowned at the remembrance. “Lady Monica accused her of dropping the doll on purpose to gain attention. Said she was a baby for bringing the doll to a musicale in the first place. Then Lady Monica stomped her foot and stormed off, calling for a servant to clean up the mess while poor little Lillith stood there, bewildered and embarrassed.”

  “You hurried over to her, bent down, and spoke gently to her while picking up the pieces before a servant came. By the end, you had coaxed a smile from her and dried her tears. Then you didn’t even blink an eye when the girl insisted on sitting beside you with Lady Monica glaring at you the entire time she played her piece.”

  “You remember all of that?” Lauren leaned back, looking at him in surprise.

  “Of course, I do. I told you I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. It stands to reason I would remember every detail of the occasion. You wore a powder blue gown with white lace trim, and when we were introduced, I thought your eyes were the shade of moonstones. Grey and silver bright. You were the most gorgeous creature I’d ever laid eyes upon. Still are.”

  “I barely recall our meeting,” Lauren teased.

  “Liar,” Theodore breathed against her hair. “You could not hide your interest in me, either.”

  “It’s true. When you began your pursuit of me, I was so happy.” She hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry we wasted so much time apart. But never again.”

  Theodore pulled her up until she was sprawled across his chest and they were eye to eye. “Never again,” he agreed, burying his hands in her hair and cradling her face. “Nothing will keep us apart from this moment on. I plan on marrying you as quickly as possible to make sure that is a reality.”

  Chapter 19

  “We shall wed in the chapel at Hawthorne Greene,” Theodore told Lauren in the early morning hours as he delivered her safely to her room under the cover of darkness. “I’ll leave today for London, collect my mother and yours, provided she is well enough to travel, and secure a special license enabling us to wed. There are also a few legalities I must handle with my barrister and your own.”

  Lauren stood on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I still don’t understand why I can’t go with you.”

  Theodore grinned and tweaked her nose. “Reputations, love. I’m desperately trying to keep yours lily-white. Trust me on this.”

  “I do trust you, Theo, and I love you.”

  “Then be ready to say ‘I do’ when I see you in Kent.”

  That afternoon, Settleton was abuzz over the news the Earl of Hawthorne and Lady Lauren Kendall had renewed their engagement and would be married within days.

  “I’m so happy for you both, darling,” Penelope embraced Lauren, “and so happy you gave Hawthorne another chance.”

  Lady Emma hugged her tight next. “This is so exciting. Although we’ve only just become friends, I’m honored you extended an invitation to visit you and Lord Hawthorne after you are settled. It is a kindness I never expected.”

  “As was your kindness to me,” Lauren murmured.

  “Scandal is not a game one should play unwittingly.” Emma laughed. “I learned my lesson.”

  “As did I.” Lauren’s brow rose as Melanie approached the small group of women. The girl had taken the news quite sullenly. Even now, a distinct scowl marred her pretty face.

  “I heard something earlier, Lady Lauren, and I hope you forgive my curiosity, but several gentlemen were discussing your impending nuptials.”

  Lauren stiffened. “Oh? I can’t imagine they would find the subject to be very interesting.”

  “The need for haste is a peculiar development. But what is a Christmas house party without a bit of scandal attached?” Perching on the settee, Melanie fluffed her skirts. “It’s said Hawthorne will purchase that new cotton factory in Leeds now that he will have the benefit of your considerable inheritance. He’s had his eye on it for some time, but Lord Eastwood’s interest has grown recently as well. Perhaps they’ll enter a bidding war. Wouldn’t that be exciting?”

  “Do hush, Melanie.” Penelope frowned at her cousin-in-law. “You create needless gossip.”

  “But we all know how eagerly men spend new funds once it is within hand, Penelope. It’s no secret Hawthorne will now control her fortune. Much to many a man’s dismay.” Melanie tilted her head, narrowed eyes giving Lauren a thorough consideration. “You would have been quite popular this season, Lady Lauren. All the rage, but you’re now off the marriage mart, so to speak. Of course, you could have enjoyed a bit of independence, too.”

  “Hawthorne intends to set my monies aside,” Lauren replied stiffly. “It is to be used at my own discretion. He’ll not touch it.”

  Several of the ladies, noticeably uncomfortable in light of Melanie’s obvious jealousy, now appeared shocked by Lauren’s bold declaration. Even Penelope nervously tugged at Lauren’s elbow, but she was determined to defend her future husband.

  Melanie’s eyes widened before she began laughing. “Oh, my dear! How droll you are with your stories.” She smirked. “Surely, you don’t believe that. It is unheard of, you know.”

  Lauren’s chin rose stubbornly, although inwardly, her stomach clenched at the thought she’d fallen into a trap of her own making. Had she allowed love to blind her yet again? Or was she correct in placing all of her trust and love in Theodore? He mentioned the need to visit their barristers upon his arrival in London. To put in place the terms of the contract their fathers devised, perhaps. Or finalize the purchase of a cotton mill with newly obtained funds?

  Nausea rose in Lauren’s throat as she remembered their sweet kiss upon parting that very morning. He’d made no mention of his plans for her inheritance—not during the dark of night after making love to her, nor while they lay awake and whispered of their future together. She hadn’t asked him either, too caught up in the magic of being his to consider he might have used her.

  “Maybe I am naïve, but I’ve faith the earl will do as he says. I’ve no reason not to believe him.” Lauren’s tone was firm, but Melanie, sensing weakness, snatched that opportunity to press the point.

  “But you can’t be sure, and once you are wed, it’s unfortunately too late. Everything you have becomes his, including yourself.” Finally, heeding Penelope’s burning glare, Melanie shrugged and offered Lauren an insincere smile. “Despite all that, I do extend my felicitations. I’m sure Hawthorne is pleased with the way things turned out. It is to his benefit, after all. The mere suggestion a woman should have charge of her own funds is something men aren’t likely to ever embrace. It’s foolish, but a pleasant dream for some, I suppose.”

  Two days passed quickly, and the weather cooperated with bright sunshine, although it remained frigid enough that the snow stayed intact.

  Lauren alternated between very different emotions—dizzying happiness that she would soon become Theodore’s wife, and nagging despair she was possibly barreling headlong into the biggest mistake of her life.

  Anne spent the time bustling about, packing Lauren’s belongings with cheerful enthusiasm and sighing over the romanticism of the impending elopement. If she worried over her mistress’s change of heart regarding marriage in general, she kept those thoughts private.

  Lauren stood in the foyer and bid Penelope and George goodbye. Everyone had come down to see her off, and the well-wishes did much to lift her spirits. Even Lord Sanderson, who’d carefully avoided her, bowed over her hand and wished her and the earl much happiness. Of course, it did not escape notice that he just briefly touched her, and only because courtesy dictated it. No doubt, Theodore’s warning still echoed in the man’s ears.

  “Goodbye, dear cousin. Remind Hawthorne of our plans to visit you both before t
he Season begins.” George kissed Lauren on the cheek, and Penelope did the same.

  “Yes. Now that he will be relations, he should expect to see more of us. It shall make for merry holidays in the future. Especially once children begin appearing. Oh! Imagine the fun we shall have then!”

  Lauren blushed hotly. “Penelope! We’ve not even wed yet, and here you speak of children.”

  Penelope winked at her. “It’s never too early to speak of starting a family, dear cousin.” Her hand slid to her own stomach, and Lauren understood her meaning. “They bring so much magic to ordinary life.”

  Lauren hugged Penelope fiercely while George gave them a suspicious glance. “Take good care of yourself, and I will see you both soon. And you as well, Lady Emma.”

  Climbing into the coach with Ollie’s assistance, Lauren waved through the glass at everyone gathered to see her off while Anne settled the warming pot at their feet.

  “On to Hawthorne Green, my lady, and your new life as a countess,” Anne said excitedly.

  Lauren chewed her bottom lip as the coach lurched forward. From the train station, it was a relatively short trip to Kent where Theodore’s family estate was located.

  Their marriage would take place, and hopefully, a betrayal of her heart would not materialize.

  The afternoon was surprisingly warm, and the garden, although starkly bare, contained a few splashes of color from blooming winter roses. Lauren lifted her face to the sun, savoring the balminess.

  She’d left the Gold Parlor after taking tea with her mother and Lady Hawthorne. The two older ladies had only arrived together just the day before, and although it was a very sweet reunion, Lauren was bitterly disappointed Theodore was not with them.

  “Some business matter that needed attending, my dear,” his mother had said with a wave of her hand. “Theodore assured us he will arrive by tomorrow.”

  Lady Katherine Kendall had given her daughter a hug. “I’m grateful I felt well enough to travel. When Lord Hawthorne arrived to tell me the news, I was almost as excited as he.” Tucking a stray lock behind Lauren’s ear, her mother gave her a tender smile. “I cannot tell you how happy I am you renewed your relationship with the earl. Your happiness is of the utmost importance to him, Lauren, and to me.”

  Lady Hawthorne bustled in closer, fighting back a sniffle. “Oh, dear. Now, I believe that I may cry from sheer joy.”

  “No tears until the wedding, Louisa,” Katherine admonished gently. “Lauren is already nervous, and besides, I’m not sure she’s completely forgiven either of us for our subterfuge in bringing her and Hawthorne back together. Isn’t that right, darling?”

  “Of course, I’ve forgiven you. Theodore and I are in love, so our marriage is a logical conclusion,” Lauren replied, slipping an arm around the waist of both women. “Neither of us desire a longer engagement when there is little purpose for it. I hope Theodore concludes his business quickly and returns to us safely.”

  Remembering the conversation now, Lauren felt that odd pang in her chest again. She did not know what the business matter could be, but she suspected it involved the factory Theodore wished to purchase. Although it was just as likely to be the procurement of the special license enabling their hasty marriage.

  Oh, it will drive me mad thinking about it, so I must stop.

  “Yes, I will stop thinking about it,” she muttered aloud to the sky, eyes closed as a light breeze drifted over her face and a cloud darkened the sun’s rays for a brief moment.

  “What is it you will not think about, my love? Tell me, for I’ve thought of nothing but you for days and days, and the sun refused to shine until this moment.” Theodore brushed a soft kiss across her lips.

  Lauren’s eyes fluttered open to see him silhouetted against the brilliant blue sky.

  Her heart quivered wildly. Theodore was here. He came for her. To marry her and make her his. A small moan worked its way up her throat.

  “You’ve come,” she managed to say as he remained bent over, blocking the sun as his mouth hovering above hers.

  “Of course, I came. My entire world is waiting right here.” Theo rubbed his thumb over her lips then down to the hollow of her throat and the tiny patch of skin exposed by the cloak she wore against the occasional chilly breeze. “As beautiful and delicate as those winter roses and just as precious.” He tested the pulse beating erratically just below the surface of her skin and frowned. “Did you doubt my commitment?”

  “No, Theo. I only thought you would arrive sooner. I-I missed you.”

  He smiled down at her. “And I missed you. I stopped in the village and made arrangements with Reverend Hapstone. Our wedding will take place in the morning. Does this please you?” Taking her by the elbows, Theo pulled Lauren to her feet. “It was either that or wait until after Christmas. I cannot wait any longer, for you see, I’m horribly impatient.”

  “Yes,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. With her face pressed against his overcoat, she breathed in his scent. It was crafted of sandalwood and leather, a touch of juniper perhaps. Utterly delicious and tempting. The heat of his body leached through their clothes to warm her as he engulfed her in his embrace.

  “You are melancholy for some reason. What is it, darling?” Theodore whispered against her ear.

  Lauren sucked in a breath and held it. How could she tell him she worried he was getting his way with the use of her inheritance? How could she explain her insecurities when it came to such things? Especially when she had buried them so deep after witnessing her mother’s happiness and Lady Hawthorne’s excitement over the impending marriage. She would look a fool if she brought it up now.

  “It is nothing, Theo. Just nerves, I suppose. Do our mothers know you’ve arrived? They will be so happy knowing you are finally here.”

  Theodore pulled away, staring down at her with a tilt of his head. “We won’t start our marriage with a lie, Lauren. We’ve promised ourselves that, remember?” His eyes, the color of the brilliant blue sky, darkened. “Now, tell me what is the matter. Did something happen at your cousin’s? You were not insulted, I hope?”

  Lauren sank back down on the bench, and after a moment, Theodore sat beside her. The question she most wanted answered bubbled inside her to the time of Lady Melanie’s vengeful voice. While she wanted to shake her head to clear the doubts away, for they clung like spiderwebs, her pulse thumped furiously with apprehension to hear his answer.

  Truthfully? She did not want to know his answer. It would hurt too much.

  “Did you purchase a cotton factory while in London?” she abruptly blurted out.

  Theodore’s expression registered surprise before hardening into one of agitation. “I see the gossips could not help themselves.”

  Stomach roiling with sudden nausea, Lauren considered that answer.

  Because it was not a denial.

  “You did, and you used my inheritance.” Her voice came out soft and sad. Dizzy with realization, she shot to her feet. “How could you do this to me? How could you use me so callously after I gave you my heart? My… my soul.”

  Theodore yanked her back down to the bench, his chin clenched tight with annoyance. With the pressure of a steel trap, his fingers wrapped around her elbow and held her hostage. “You know I would not do that, Lauren. Not after what we’ve been through. Not after our fathers tried using us both to further their own agendas.”

  With his free hand, he rifled through his overcoat pockets, searching for something while still keeping his grip tight on her elbow.

  “Contrary to popular thought, I did not purchase a cotton factory. I did, however, enter into an agreement upon it with a contingency in place. It depends on whether you would like me to purchase it for you—with my funds. Not a shilling of yours would be used. Of course, today’s archaic laws being what they are, I must do things this way before placing the title in your name. But it’s a damn fine investment. Not to mention, it could be managed in a proper, humane way if someone honorable was in
charge of things.” His words came out in a growl. “I told you before, Lauren. I won’t ever use your inheritance for my own gain. It is yours. Yours alone. Our barristers drew up the proper documents yesterday, placing all your money in a separate account under your name upon our marriage.”

  He withdrew three folded sheets of vellum from an inner coat pocket, the gold seals gleaming in the sunlight as he handed them to her.

  One was the special license for their marriage, one was an agreement to purchase the cotton factory in Leeds with the title to be placed in her married name upon her approval of the transaction, and the third was a document placing all inheritance funds into a special account only she had access to.

  There was silence as Lauren gathered the documents in hand. She keenly felt Theodore’s disappointment. His indignation at his honor being questioned pricked at her heart, and shame for her reactions to another’s jealous gossip sent a hot flush of scarlet across her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, Theodore,” she said simply.

  Theodore’s eyes were still that dark indigo shade. A muscle in his jaw ticked, a sure indicator he was upset with her lack of faith.

  “I meant it to be a surprise,” he explained gruffly.” A sort of wedding gift, if you will.”

  There was nothing she could say, so she just nodded, drowning in misery that she’d upset him.

  After a few uncomfortable minutes of silence, Theodore released her arm. Rising from the bench, he stood gazing down at her, his face now an inscrutable mask.

  “I shall let our mothers know of my arrival and that the wedding shall occur in the morning. Place those documents somewhere safe.”

  With a quick pivot on his heel, Theodore left her there in the garden amongst the winter roses.

  The breeze fanning her cheeks seemed chillier than any she’d felt all winter.

  A repayment, perhaps, for her own betrayal.