His Blessed Epiphany (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 9)

by Marly Mathews

  “My cousin has had everything handed to him. I suppose you could say the same to about me. I haven’t worked a day in my life, Felix.”

  “But you are a woman.”

  “And that makes a difference?”

  He swallowed thickly. “Aye,” he whispered, flinching as she gasped loudly.

  “I didn’t think you thought like that. Didn’t your mother work?”

  “She had to…she had no other choice. It was that or we starved, and we came pretty damn close to starvation during some of the winters I remember. I know our children will never have to go to bed with hungry bellies. Nor will I have to watch you decide not to eat so our child can.”

  “Your mother did that?” she asked softly.

  “Aye,” he said gruffly. “My Ma took good care of me. We had pease pudding to eat a lot, and to this day, I can’t bear to look at the ruddy stuff, much less eat it. She raised me the only way she knew how. She didn’t have the learning that you do, so she was limited to what she could do to make money, and most times we didn’t have enough for everything we needed.”

  “Elysium Hall is a beautiful estate, it would be a paradise for us. A love nest, if you will.”

  “But it is someone else’s home,” he pointed out stiffly. “I don’t want to feel like the conquering hero—I don’t want to cast people out of their nice warm beds. I might be an arsehole but I am no cad.”

  She sighed. “Then, I suppose we could go and live at Heaven Hall. It’s a nice little estate.”

  “I don’t even want to see what you call little. I heard what your father described as little, and it made me feel a little sick.”

  She laughed, and punched him lightly on the arm. It felt like a bee sting. He laughed, and turned to touch her, and then, drew away before his fingers touched her body. If he touched her, he might not be able to stop. He just might scoop her up into his arms and take her up the steps and tell her to direct him to her bedchamber. No. It was best if he kept his distance. It would be best not just for him—but for her as well.

  “Is there something wrong? Did I do something wrong?” she asked, in a small voice.

  “No. I…I daren’t touch you, Fanny.”

  “Why?” she asked, her eyebrows raising.

  “Because if I do…I might not be able to keep myself away from you.”

  “And that would be a bad thing, how?” she asked softly.

  Damnation.

  This woman was going to be the bloody end of him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Felix let out a shattering sigh. “You wouldn’t understand, Fanny.”

  “I think I would,” she said. “I am no simpleton, Felix. I know what happens between a man and his wife.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes,” she said, her cheeks turning almost as red as her dress. “My mother was quite forthcoming on the subject. I know more than some young ladies do when they marry.”

  He groaned. “Somehow, I don’t think I want to hear you regaling me with what you do know.”

  She sighed. “I thank you, because I do not think I want to tell you.”

  “I should go to my chambers, and dress for dinner. Have you reconsidered coming down to dinner?”

  Sighing, she shook her head. “I am supposed to be mad at you, aren’t I? Mrs. Davies had to return to her duty and I know I was keeping Kelly, so I decided to come back down here and see if you could keep me awake. I feel rather sleepy for this time of the day. And, I suppose the fact that I was mad at you slipped my mind.”

  “I don’t even remember what you were mad at me about. I do so many damn things a day that could someone could get mad at me for that I would have to keep a list of offenses in order to keep track of it all. My ability to put my foot in my mouth has gotten me into a lot of bloody mischief. Care to refresh my memory on what I did do to make you so irked at me?”

  “You intimated that I was a load of mischief.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  She flared her nostrils the way she did whenever she was perturbed. He had a feeling he would see her doing that quite a lot in the future.

  “I…” she stared at him with her eyes wide, and mouth open, closing it, she took a moment to compose herself. “No one ever speaks to me the way you do.”

  “I show you respect.”

  “Yes, but you also give me honesty. Blunt to the extreme, and yet, I think I like it. At least I don’t have to worry about you lying to me.”

  “I don’t have the brain for it. I would lose track of my lies, and end up betraying myself. I have a hard enough time keeping track of the truth.”

  She laughed. “Oh, Felix. I don’t think there is another man like you out there.”

  “Some would say that would be a scary thought. Two of me. My mother would faint. One was enough trouble for her to keep up with.”

  She laughed again. “Our lives will be filled with laughter, won’t they?”

  “Probably. I seem to do enough stupid things during the day to make me a bloody court jester.”

  “You are not stupid, Felix. You, sir, are my hero.”

  God. How could he be anyone’s hero, let alone hers?

  She was talking sweet to him again. He was going to lose control. Come what may, he couldn’t go as far as he wanted to go with her tonight. Her health was more important than his pleasure.

  “You’re clouding my thoughts, again, Fanny. You’re making me want to take you upstairs, and…”

  “I am not stopping you. Go ahead,” she said, closing her eyes, and waiting for him to do what? Pick her up in his arms? She looked like a tempting, willing sacrifice and he had to shake the naughty thoughts out of his head. He had to be a good boy, but damn, he wanted so badly to be bad.

  “You should make me pursue you a bit more,” he teased.

  She fluttered her eyelids open. “Is that what other ladies do?”

  “I haven’t an inkling,” he muttered. “I haven’t the faintest idea how all of this works. I don’t know how to be a husband, Fanny. I’ve never been one before.”

  “Surely you know more about women than I do.”

  “I don’t think so. They are mysteries to me. I do know how to…” He stopped himself. He almost told her that he knew how to hire one to have his pleasure with. That would be far too blunt, and rather crude for her innocent ears. “I never intended to get married in the first place. And then, your father sought me out in London, and I was pulled back into your glittering, brightly lit world, and he told me…he reminded me of the debt I owed him….and…”

  “The debt you owed him?” she said, looking at him in surprise. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut. Like he had just spoken out of turn, and now…now, he would have to deal with the consequences. Hadn’t she said that she knew everything? Surely that meant she knew about the debt.

  Good God, what if she didn’t? The Colonel had said he didn’t want her to know, and now he had stepped in it, and he didn’t know how the hell to get out of it without doing more damage. He was such a bloody clodhopper.

  “I…I think I might have, well, I think I might have said something I shouldn’t have. I did it again. I opened my mouth, without thinking and let the words spill out that were on the tip of my tongue. I am sorry, Fanny, I didn’t want to hurt you. You weren’t to know.”

  Her eyes swirled with fury, sadness and betrayal. “So let me get all of this straight. Am I right in assuming that you married me not because you wanted to, but because you had to? My father made you?” her voice had lowered. He had never heard it at this tone before. Why did it make him just a wee bit scared? She…she sounded too much like her father at the moment.

  “He didn’t make me. He…only reminded me of it, and I…well, I did what was right, didn’t I?”

  “You did, did you?” she asked, her voice still as hard as granite. “I should have known. No man that looked like you would ever want to settle down to a boring life in the country. Why, you probably had scads of beautiful women
fawning all over you in London, and I am quite certain you had more than one Bird of Paradise on your arm. Oh, aye, they were probably falling at your feet, scantily clad begging you to take them to the heights of pleasure.”

  His face reddened. “You shouldn’t know about any of that. You are an innocent, Fanny.”

  “Yes, I am. But I am not an ignorant little chit. This head,” she said, tapping her temple. “This head has a brain in it. Not cotton. I saw the camp followers back when we were with Papa during the Wars. My mother tried to shield me as did my father, but I saw it all. I saw what I shouldn’t have seen, and I gained an understanding of how the real world works.” She let out a shuddering sigh. “I think…this is all a mistake, isn’t it? I cared for you. I thought you felt the same. I deluded myself. No one like you would ever want to leg-shackle yourself. You wouldn’t want to tie yourself down. Not when you had a life of freedom. I fell madly in love with you as a young girl, and I thought you felt the same way. Oh, I feel such a fool.” She stood up. He stood as well.

  “Let me explain,” he said, reaching for her hand. She yanked her hand away from him.

  “No. Save me the sob story that you think will redeem me in your eyes. I am not mad at you, why should I be mad at you, Felix? You didn’t ask for any of this. I did. You were merely repaying a debt,” her voice broke, and a few tears slid down her cheeks. “I never should have thought that my dear Papa could get me everything that I wanted. It was too much to expect. I am a spoiled little brat. I am wretched. You must think that I am the stupidest lady in the ton, for thinking I could pick out my own husband the way I did.” He had never felt so loathsome before in his entire life. “I think I am going to return to my bedchamber now.”

  “Not looking like that you aren’t,” he said.

  “You don’t have a say in it, Felix. This marriage is based on a marriage contract. I am sure that my father told you exactly what he expected of you. You even added our name to ours. You did everything he wanted, like the good little soldier you are. I should have known he had something hanging over your head, and owing him your life…well, I knew that, didn’t I? God, I am a simkin.”

  “No, no, you aren’t.”

  “Yes, I am. I thought you were in love with me. I thought you had come back to claim me because you were finally in a position to do so. I was a romantic little ninny, and now, now I must regard this marriage the way that it really is. We shall have a marriage in name only, sir.”

  “To hell we will,” he growled.

  Her eyes widened. “You aren’t the sort to make me do my wifely duties, Felix. So…don’t say things you cannot enforce.”

  “I think you would be very surprised at how persuasive I can be, my dear. I could have you whenever I wanted, and I certainly wouldn’t be forcing you into it.”

  “I doubt that. I dare you to try, sir!” she said, squaring her shoulders, as she boldly challenged him.

  She whirled around on her heel, and marched toward the Library doors.

  Did she just dare him? Yes, yes, she did. All of his friends knew that they never dared him, without having to pay the piper. She knew him pretty well as well. She knew him… A naughty thought overwhelmed all of the other ones. He knew what he had to do.

  He grinned, and followed her.

  *****

  Fanny could hear footsteps behind her, and she didn’t have to guess at who they belonged to. By the sound of the footfalls they had to be belong to Felix. She quickened her pace, and dashed up the steps, hearing him closing the distance behind her. What should she do? She had dared him. Should she face the music, or attempt to wiggle out of the spot she had put herself into? She could make for her father’s bedchamber. She would find safe haven with him, and yet—she didn’t want to. She wanted to be with Felix. After all, he couldn’t very well take her up on her dare, not when they had to dress for dinner.

  Even he couldn’t be that reckless, could he?

  “Oi, you slow down, you cheeky little missus,” Felix called. Why should she slow down? He had longer legs. He could catch up with her if he wanted to. He was dragging it out on purpose to build the suspense, and that drove her mad.

  Halting suddenly, she turned back to look at him. Her hair was a mess, and she felt hot.

  So much had happened today. It had definitely been a Boxing Day to remember, and came with a gift she could never return.

  “I cannot help it if you are getting too old to catch me,” she said tauntingly. Turning away from him, she raced for her bedchamber, hearing him grumble beneath his breath. It sounded as if she had raised his passions again.

  She could hear him saying, “Did you just call me old? I will show you how this old man behaves.”

  It seemed she had raised his hackles sufficiently, as he had cornered her by the time she reached her bedchamber door. His arm slammed against the door above her. She felt a little like a trapped bird.

  How could she proceed now?

  She could feel him behind her. Too close. It wasn’t seemly the way he was in such close proximity to her, and oh, how she liked it.

  “This isn’t proper,” she said quickly.

  “That is merely a matter of perspective, Fanny. You are now my wife, so most would think it is proper. I can take whatever liberties I wish now.”

  A titillating rush swept through her. It felt a little dangerous. She knew she was playing with fire—and she was about to be burned. Somehow, it didn’t sound as frightening as it should. The fire he would awaken within her would burn through her whole body, and bestow upon her pleasures the likes of which she couldn’t fathom at the moment.

  She flattened her lips together, and bit them. Somehow, she had to slip out of his grasp without falling into it. Turning around slowly, she found herself looking up at him. Their bodies were pressed together, and she could feel his body heat warming her. The scent of whisky was on his breath, and the rest of him. Oh, God. He smelled divine. He smelled of lavender, lemon, orange, rosemary and bergamot. “Do you wear the same cologne that Lord Evesham wears?” she asked softly.

  “I didn’t think you would notice,” he said uncomfortably. “Most women don’t.”

  “I did. I have a rather discerning nose. It is a most beguiling scent, and even mixed with the scent of whisky it is still quite appealing. You certainly smell better than Peter.”

  “Peter isn’t going to smell very good for a little while,” he chuckled. “Clarence said the ladies would like it, but you are the first one to take notice of it. He said that Boney the Bastard used to wear it. I guess he’s not wearing it anymore.”

  “I guess not.” How could she talk him out of taking her up on her dare? “I would like to go into my bedchamber now.”

  “Oh, well, be my guest,” he said, reaching past her, and opening the bedchamber door for her. She stumbled backward over the threshold, and he reached out to steady her, and pulled her swiftly against him with just one of his arms. Goodness, he was strong. Breathless, she stared up into his indigo blue eyes. They crackled with passion. He wasn’t to be deterred. He wasn’t going to leave her. Dash it all, she had just cooked her own goose.

  She shook her head, and took hold of her senses. “Pray, leave this chamber immediately, sir. I must dress for dinner.”

  “You look fine to me just as you are,” he said huskily, his eyes greedily sweeping over every inch of her body. She almost felt as if she should cover her breasts with her hands. Dressing for dinner was the least of her worries. The gown she wore would do, she was only trying to put some distance between them. She wanted him and yet, she didn’t. If she allowed him into her life like this, there would be no going back. She wouldn’t be able to sponge out their time together sharing intimacies.

  “I thank you, but I would still like you to leave me alone.”

  “That isn’t how you felt when you dared me,” he pointed out, gazing at her in such a way that she wished she had a fan. She felt considerably hot. His eyes could set her world on fire.

&nb
sp; Something was different about her bedchamber. She stared over at the one object that didn’t belong.

  “That…where the bloody hell did that come from?” she asked incredulously.

  He looked to where she pointed, and a boyish grin spread across his features.

  “That’s my trunk. I wager I have found my bedchamber.”

  “You are not staying here.”

  “That trunk weaves another story,” he said.

  “Trunks can be moved, as can bodies.”

  “You sound like you are going to murder me. You’re spunkier than I remembered. But that’s perfectly fine. I like my women corky.”

  “Hardly,” she said, sighing. “You under a misapprehension. You will not be sharing my bed tonight.”

  “I could sleep on the floor.”

  “The floor?” she actually considered it for a moment, and then rationale again took hold of her senses. She couldn’t help taking leave of her senses when he was about. He confounded her to no end. “You shall do no such thing.”

  “Then, I will sleep in bed with you,” he countered silkily. His tongue was weaving a spell over here. She almost agreed to it. God, he could probably talk her into doing anything. If he told her to take her clothes off, she might be inclined to do so. He was befogging her. She had to somehow take control of herself.

  “No,” she said, marching back toward him, and poking him on the chest. “You will leave this instant. Now, depart,” she imperiously ordered, gesturing to her door.

  His eyes were dancing. “You are not my commanding officer, lassie,” he said.

  “I never said I was. I am your wife.”

  “Well, that’s a start. So, shall we share the same bed tonight? I warrant they just put my trunks in here because they had no other room for me.”

  “They have the room that this room connects to,” she gasped, and slapped her hand over her mouth. She had to keep her hand right where it was. He made her say such appalling things! She was becoming like him. The thought appeared in her head, and poof it came out of her mouth!

  “Are you telling me there is a bedchamber off that door? I thought maybe it was a Music Room or something like that.”