Winter Wishes: A Regency Christmas Anthology

by Cheryl Bolen

  How had Caroline seen beyond his behavior to the man beneath? No matter, Louisa reminded herself. She wanted a husband she could depend upon from the start. Not one who’d cause her to doubt his every word and action.

  “She should arrive at any moment.” Annabelle perused the guests. “There she is.”

  Louisa followed Annabelle’s gaze to see Caroline beside her betrothed as they greeted the hosts. Her happiness glowed within her, making her even more beautiful. She and Aberland shared a tender look so filled with love that Louisa sighed.

  “I know,” Annabelle said softly. “I’m so happy for them but envious at the same time. Love is grand, isn’t it?”

  Louisa smiled as she watched Caroline and Aberland draw near. “They are well suited. But I think I’d prefer a calmer match.”

  Something in her tone must’ve given her away. “Has something occurred?” The concern in her cousin’s tone tempted Louisa, but how could she share anything about her predicament without betraying her mother?

  “A bump in the road. ’Tis nothing of consequence.” At least she hoped not. She turned away to search for her mother and found her safe for the moment, visiting with friends.

  “Lady Louisa. Miss Annabelle,” Aberland’s deep voice began, and Louisa turned to greet him, only to see a man all too familiar standing next to him. “May I introduce a friend of mine, Benjamin Wright, the Earl of Granger?”

  Louisa’s world narrowed to Granger, unable to utter a word as she stared at the man who held her and her mother’s futures in his hands. His practiced eye swept her over from head to toe, reminding her all too well of his previous close perusal.

  Her stomach dropped. Would he reveal all and cause her family’s ruin this very evening?

  Chapter 3

  Benjamin could hardly believe the odds of meeting his midnight visitor during his first evening out since arriving in London. He’d watched her from across the room, amazed at how different she looked compared to when he last saw her. Yet he had no doubt of her identity.

  Her gown was the height of fashion, the neckline offering a small sample of her creamy skin. Honey-colored curls lay along her forehead and temples to frame her face with the rest of the tresses drawn into a knot of ringlets at the back of her head. A bandeau of pearls formed a crown of sorts then twisted artfully around the ringlets. The blue of her bodice made her eyes all the more striking. A single pearl drop necklace drew his gaze to the hint of her breasts.

  Quite different and much more demure than the woman disguised in lad’s clothing who’d acted so boldly. Which was the true person?

  He’d been pleased to watch her from a distance, but when his long-time friend, Richard Walker, the Earl of Aberland, offered to introduce him, he hadn’t been able to resist. She’d held court in his thoughts for the past two days despite reminders that he didn’t need the trouble such a woman would inevitably cause.

  From the bits of gossip he’d overheard this evening, her mother, the Marchioness of Whirlenhall, tended to act brazenly. No doubt her daughter was following in her footsteps based on what he’d witnessed. Though the old Benjamin would’ve been tempted to see just how far she’d venture down that path, the new Benjamin couldn’t risk it. He sighed with regret.

  “Lady Louisa. Miss Annabelle.” He bowed as the two attractive women curtsied. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

  Lady Louisa. He appreciated having her name.

  “I’m terribly sorry to hear of your recent loss,” Miss Annabelle said, unaware of Louisa’s shock at seeing him. “How tragic to have lost all of your family at once.”

  Benjamin replied with what he hoped was an appropriate response. His full attention was on Louisa. By the flare of her nostrils, she was quite upset to see him. The thought made him smile.

  “Forgive me, my lady, but you look familiar.” Benjamin couldn’t resist teasing her. Obviously, he needed to work harder on his self-control.

  “Oh?” She raised a brow, her cheeks once again a delicate rose that heightened her beauty. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced before this evening.”

  Damn if he didn’t appreciate the fire in her eyes, as if she dared him to tell the truth.

  “Hmm,” he murmured. “I’m certain the reason will come to me. I have an excellent memory.”

  Her expression, including her deliciously full lips, twisted into a scowl briefly before smoothing out, as if she’d donned a mask to smother her genuine reaction. She offered a polite smile then shifted her attention to Aberland and his betrothed, Miss Gold.

  “I thought you might leave London for the country over the holiday,” Lady Louisa said.

  “Caroline doesn’t want her father to travel as he’s not in the best of health, so we are spending Christmas in the city.”

  “You’ll remain in the city as well, won’t you?” Miss Gold asked Lady Louisa. Benjamin held his breath, hoping she’d agree.

  “Yes. Mother prefers to spend Christmas in London. The country house reminds her too much of Father, and my cousin, who inherited the title resides there.”

  The conversation continued with him adding very little, mostly because he had difficulty thinking of anything other than Louisa. Watching her proved a delightful pastime.

  After the guests had mingled for a time, supper was served. Benjamin found himself seated not far from Louisa—too far away for conversation but not so far that he couldn’t observe. She intrigued him. Was it only because he’d found her breaking into his library? Surely there was more to it than that. Beauty, elegance, and wit all wrapped into a charming and courageous package. Or was she merely foolhardy?

  Either way, he was in serious trouble.

  Why had fate placed such a woman in his path? To test his resolve of reforming? The bigger question was what to do about it. How could he consider her as a potential wife when she took it upon herself to act in a risky fashion? He had no intention of breaking his vow to put his roguish ways behind him.

  Which left him where?

  He clenched his jaw and turned to the lady who sat on the opposite side of him, determined to put the lovely Lady Louisa from his mind. Aberland’s influence was the only reason he’d been invited to the dinner party. His behavior this evening needed to be above reproach and set the tone for his new life.

  But within a few minutes, his gaze returned to Louisa. He was quite certain she had yet to look at him. The realization annoyed him.

  The meal dragged on overlong, at least for Benjamin. At last, the ladies rose to leave the men. Unfortunately, having Louisa out of his line of sight didn’t keep him from thinking of her.

  Benjamin forced himself to concentrate on the conversation, which centered on the shifting political map of Europe. Aberland, who sat a short distance away, acted as though he paid little notice to the comments from the other men, but Benjamin knew he listened carefully. The earl was a far better spy than Benjamin had ever been. Of course, he’d been at it much longer. Benjamin doubted any of the other men at the table realized Aberland’s role in the cat-and-mouse game of political intrigue.

  Many of those in France had fled to England at the start of the war, but their loyalty remained across the Channel. That made it difficult to know who to trust. Was Aberland as weary as Benjamin of the life and death stakes spying held?

  After several decanters of port had been emptied, the men rose to join the ladies. He wished he had the fortitude to leave before they did so. Instead, he followed the men to the drawing room, further annoyed with himself. He was no better than a moth lured by a pretty yet dangerous candle flame.

  They entered the room where the marquess’s daughter played the pianoforte with determination if not talent, and he found the lady who threatened his peace of mind. Louisa sat conversing with her two cousins. He paused near the doorway, debating whether to remain.

  “Granger, terribly sorry about your recent loss.” The Marquess of Delham studied him for a long moment with a guarded expression.

  “Quite a s
hock.” Benjamin turned his back on Louisa, wanting to make the most of this conversation. Delham was an influential member of the ton as well as the House of Lords and respected by many. Aberland had warned Benjamin that many members of Society had not liked his uncle. The previous Earl of Granger and his countess had received fewer and fewer invitations each year, though no one had snubbed them outright.

  Benjamin knew Delham wasn’t the only one who watched him with assessing eyes this evening. He expected that would be the pattern at each function he attended now that he’d inherited. He needed to prove he wasn’t anything like his uncle. His own previous indiscretions could be blamed on sowing the oats of his youth. But if he wanted to be treated seriously and live a meaningful life, this moment could be a good beginning.

  “I understand you’ve been abroad the past few years.” Delham’s eyes narrowed as if he thought this suspicious. No doubt he wondered why Benjamin hadn’t bought a commission and fought in the war.

  “Indeed.” He couldn’t share the reason for his travels, nor even hint at it. Yet the idea of travelling when his country was at war seemed frivolous. How could he discuss his ventures without sounding like an uncaring scoundrel? “I appreciated the opportunity to travel beyond the boundaries of Europe. The insight exploration provides is a priceless experience.”

  Delham’s furrowed brow suggested he hadn’t yet been convinced.

  “I hope to use my perspective in the House of Lords. Viewing the issues we’re encountering with the objectivity global travel offers is something for which I am grateful.”

  Aberland gave a subtle nod from a short distance away. At least Benjamin had his approval.

  To his relief, Delham’s concern eased, and he nodded with understanding. “I look forward to hearing more about your view on how we can navigate the challenges England now faces.”

  Benjamin hoped the marquess’s interest continued. Proving he was different from his late father and uncle would take time, but if he acted above reproach, surely others would begin to take him seriously as well.

  Delham introduced him to several other lords, and he did his best to hold his own in conversations without revealing the truth of how he’d spent the last two years. He declined the offer of another drink for the sake of his reputation and because he found the discussions stimulation enough.

  Though he managed to keep his distance from Lady Louisa, his gaze sought her out again and again. Viscount Stanich had spoken to her at length. The younger lord irritated Benjamin with the pomposity he’d displayed in the dining room. The man considered himself an expert on all topics. Apparently, Louisa thought Stanich fascinating based on the way he held her attention.

  She ignored Benjamin completely. Did that mean she’d given up on obtaining the letters? No doubt that was for the best. The evening had been a success, and he didn’t want anything to cast his behavior into question. Perhaps he should take his leave before he did something to jeopardize it.

  “I couldn’t help but notice your attention on Lady Louisa,” Delham said as he stepped closer. “Her mother, the Marchioness of Whirlenhall, always seems to be on the verge of scandal.”

  “Oh?”

  “As they say, blood will tell.” Delham’s gaze grew calculating. “Take my marchioness, for instance. She is the epitome of decorum, a trait clearly evident in our daughter. One has to wonder if Lady Louisa is cut from the same cloth as her mother.”

  Though he’d wondered as well, Benjamin preferred to make his own decisions about people. That included Delham’s daughter. He nodded but changed the topic, pleased when the marquess moved away to speak with someone else.

  “Did you find them?”

  He stilled at the feminine whisper then slowly turned to see Louisa next to him, partially facing away. Apparently, she didn’t want anyone to know they were speaking. “Yes.”

  Her shoulders stiffened as if he’d told her terrible news. Why hadn’t her mother approached him to retrieve the letters since she was the one who’d written them?

  “I’d be pleased to return them to you,” he said.

  His offer had her turning to face him. She smiled politely, but desperate hope shone in her eyes. “Truly?”

  “For a small price.” The words had passed his lips before he could halt them. He should’ve told her he’d send a servant with them. But he didn’t. Couldn’t.

  “Those are personal letters and not your property. You should do the right thing and return them.” The fire in her eyes pleased him more than it should have.

  “Don’t you want to know the price?” he asked even as he wondered to where his resolve had disappeared.

  “Whatever it is, I don’t wish to pay it.”

  “One kiss.” His heart hammered at his demand. What was he thinking?

  Her lips parted as those blue eyes widened in surprise.

  “Midnight tomorrow evening. My library. I believe you know the address.”

  “I’d be mad to take such a risk.”

  He decided against reminding her that she already had. “Do you want the letters?”

  Her angry gaze made her look much more like the passionate woman he’d discovered in his library, rather than the proper lady she’d been most of the evening.

  “I look forward to your visit,” he said with a smile and a bow. Then he took his leave, promising himself to work on his self-restraint as soon as he gave her the damn letters.

  Late the following afternoon, Louisa paced her bedchamber, filled with indecision. She shouldn’t go. She should’ve refused. What had she been thinking? Surely he wouldn’t do anything untoward with the letters.

  But what if he did?

  Worst of all, she couldn’t deny that part of her looked forward to the meeting. The part she’d been trying so hard to smother.

  The previous evening had been painful. She’d spoken to Viscount Stanich, a perfectly nice man who was attractive and intelligent. He seemed interested in her. So what if he was a bit arrogant? Most men of her acquaintance were. He’d told her about the horse he was considering buying. She liked horses. But when he’d gone on and on about it, she’d barely been able to keep her attention on what he said.

  Granger was to blame for that. His watchful gaze had unsettled her, prickling her flesh with awareness. With...anticipation. Even now, her breasts tightened at the thought of being alone with him again. Why did she have this primal response to him? As if her body intended to overrule her mind and seek him out.

  With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the thought. Ridiculous. Becoming involved with a man like him would only lead to trouble. He reeked of it. That sort of risk wasn’t worth taking. She’d be better off with Viscount— Her thoughts whirled as she realized she’d forgotten his name. Stannish. No. Stanich. That was it.

  She stopped pacing and closed her eyes. Those letters were all that mattered. She would meet Granger, take the letters, and return home before half an hour passed. She couldn’t focus on her own future with those in Granger’s hands. Those warm hands with long, strong fingers that had been kissed by the sun...

  “Look at these, my lady,” Beth said as she entered the drawing room, holding a large bouquet of yellow roses. “Aren’t they beautiful? A package arrived for you as well.”

  Louisa smiled, welcoming the distraction. She took the thin package wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. No note was visible. Setting it aside, she reached for the roses and breathed in their sweet scent. “How lovely.”

  She placed the vase on a side table and reached for the card. “Viscount Stanich. How kind of him,” she said as she studied the simple note. Surely she could find a few qualities she admired about him.

  “Louisa?” Her mother stood in the doorway. “Will you offer your opinion? I can’t decide which gown to wear this evening.”

  Louisa’s mind went blank. “This evening?” Had her mother somehow learned of her meeting with Granger?

  “The Thompson’s dinner party, remember?”

  �
�Oh yes, of course.”

  “What lovely flowers. Who sent them?” Her mother drew closer to touch one of the delicate petals.

  “Viscount Stanich. You met him last evening.”

  Her mother frowned for a moment. “Stanich. Yes. A nice enough young man.”

  “Nice enough?”

  “I only spoke with him briefly but, yes. He seemed...nice.” Her mother turned away only to turn back. “Though he’s not the sort of young man I’d select for you.”

  “What’s wrong with nice?”

  “Nothing. Though nice is boring.” Her mother patted her arm. “Come help me select a gown.”

  Time crawled by as she assisted her mother then dressed for the dinner party. Of course, she wasn’t disappointed to realize that Granger wasn’t in attendance. Nor was Viscount Stanich. Why was she relieved at that?

  When her mother suggested they return home early, Louisa was thrilled.

  “You hardly said a word this evening,” her mother said in the carriage on the way home. “Are you unwell?”

  “Not at all. The conversation was rather dull.”

  Her mother chuckled. “You’re just like me. Excitement is far more entertaining and uplifting, don’t you think? Good for one’s soul.”

  Louisa didn’t respond. Wasn’t that her secret fear? That she wouldn’t be content without some thrills in her life? She bid her mother good night and went to her bedchamber to change for the midnight rendezvous, unable to ignore the excitement that filled her.

  The danger added to her anticipation. Was this how her mother felt? That she wasn’t fully alive without the stimulation forbidden adventure could bring? Empathy speared through her. Perhaps she should be more understanding from now on when her mother acted impulsively.