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Merry Misrule

Page 2

by St. Clair, Ellie


  He nodded.

  But he didn’t agree. For he had a new Christmas wish.

  To win over Joanna Merryton.

  Chapter 2

  Joanna paced her bedchamber, inwardly fuming but unable to do anything about it. After all, this was Lord Elijah’s home — not hers.

  She could be as angry as she wanted to be, as hurt as she wanted to be, but at the end of it all, it didn’t really matter. She had chosen to come here, and, for these two weeks, was living off of the generosity of the Kentmore family.

  Besides, her own protestations were silly. So she had lost a pocket watch years ago — even though it had been one of the few tokens she had left to remember the woman who had raised her, it was still just a token. Elijah had risked his life at war. She should be happy he was home.

  In fact, she had always found it rather difficult over the past few years to reconcile the boy she had known with a man who would put himself in danger for his country. Perhaps he hadn’t had any idea what he was getting himself into. Perhaps he only did it for the reputation and the valor that came along with it. She couldn’t see any other reason.

  She stopped when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the small, simple vanity, and she walked over, placing her hands on the glossy wood surface before her. Squinting slightly to properly see, she ran her eyes over the heightened color in her cheeks, her hair standing on end, her dress bunched where the ties had come loose.

  And she was reminded of another woman — one not much more than a girl, really. One had nothing but a job as a seamstress, the smallest of shared spaces in London to call home, a few women she was lucky enough to call her good friends, and the memory of a grandmother who had loved her. She used to live for the days she could come visit with her closest friend, Caroline — until her friend’s brother had ruined everything for her.

  For the worst of it was that Eli had always been so bright, so handsome, so stunning, that there wasn’t a woman who met him that didn’t want him for herself. And for just a moment, five years ago, Joanna had been amazed that he had chosen her — pudgy, plain her — even if it was for just one kiss beneath the mistletoe.

  And then he’d lifted the pug to her face instead.

  The memory of it — and of the laughter that had echoed around her when she had sprung back in horror — was as clear in her mind as tonight’s encounter.

  She couldn’t stay. Not with him here.

  Thank goodness Caroline and Lord Alexander had been there to comfort her. Lord Elijah had tried to blame his brother for all of it, but that had all been a lie. Just like Lord Elijah’s trickery.

  Joanna pushed away from the plain mahogany vanity, rounding the corner of the tall bed, its soft white canopies brushing against her face, either taunting her or tempering her, she wasn’t entirely sure which. She crossed over to the wardrobe, pulling it open to be greeted by the forlorn few dresses that seemed to long for company in the barren space.

  At the bottom, she found what she was looking for — her worn, frayed valise. She tossed it on the bed, opening it up before she returned to the wardrobe and began to pull down the few dresses that had accompanied her. She had done her very best to mend them to a desirable state, and had altered the dresses that Caroline had insisted upon giving her. Joanna could but hope that no one would recognize them and realize that she had become such a charity.

  And then there was the final dress. Joanna pulled it out reverently. She was only in possession of it because the woman who had commissioned it decided she no longer wanted it. Joanna had spent hours on it, and while she was out a considerable amount of time, when Caroline had invited her to the house party over Christmas, Joanna had decided to allow herself this small luxury and had asked for permission to borrow it.

  The owner of her small shop had allowed it, for a deduction of her pay, but Joanna had thought it would be worth it, for at least she would look something like the other women this Christmas.

  She had been wrong.

  She would spend Christmas in London, alone once again.

  Joanna was startled when a knock sounded on the door, and she crossed over to it, expecting Caroline.

  She found someone else entirely.

  “Lord Elijah,” she said, not so much in greeting but in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “I live here.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, not prepared for his teasing — even if, this time, it was meant in humor.

  “What are you doing in my bedchamber?”

  She opened her eyes as she spoke, but instantly regretted doing so. For then his chocolate eyes were boring into hers, warming her from deep inside.

  She hated that he could so affect her with just one look.

  “I am here to apologize,” he said, slightly bowing toward her, and her eyes widened.

  “For…?”

  “For many things,” he said, sweeping an arm out in front of him, and she couldn’t help but notice how fine he looked in his red jacket, grey waistcoat, and buff breeches, displaying with much definition just how much he had grown into a man over his years away. “For attempting to kiss you when you had no desire for my touch. For everything I did to you years ago, which Caroline describes as horrible, horrible acts. And for forgetting you.”

  He lifted a hand as though he was going to brush it against her face, but when she flinched slightly, he let it fall back to his side.

  “Forgive me — again. I’m afraid I am not used to many women rejecting my interest and it has been some time since I have been within society.”

  Joanna lifted an eyebrow. It was quite the admission, and yet, a few words could not erase all that he had done in the past. Anyone could apologize. But his very actions tonight had proven that he hadn’t much changed since she had known him years ago.

  “I was one of those women once, who fell for your charms,” she said, pulling herself up to her full height, which was still a good head shorter than he. “But that proved to be a mistake and I have since learned my lesson when it comes to you.”

  “So Caroline shared with me,” he said, dipping his head. “I was an immature lad who thought I was making some great joke.”

  “At my expense.”

  “Yes, at your expense,” he admitted with a nod. “I have come to offer you my regrets and to invite you back to the party. I did not mean to scare you away.”

  “I can look after myself just fine,” she said smartly. “Your actions do not affect me.” A lie, but a necessary one.

  He seemed relieved. “Glad to hear it. I— what are you doing?”

  “Freshening up.” Another lie.

  “No.” He pushed past her and stepped farther into the room. “Your bag is out. As are your clothes. Are you going somewhere?”

  “No.”

  Yes.

  “And would you please get out of my room?” she continued. “This isn’t at all seemly.”

  He waved a hand. “No one particularly cares. They’re all downstairs making merry.”

  He turned around suddenly, his commanding presence so close to the bed overwhelming her. She wished he would just leave.

  “Please go,” she said, as though her intentions had not been clear before, but he leaned forward and scrutinized her more closely.

  “You are leaving.”

  “I…” releasing a frustrated sigh, she gave up arguing, “yes. I am leaving. I have decided to return to London in the morning.”

  “I should hope not on my account.”

  Yes, on his account. And if she hadn’t wanted to leave before, as she’d been packing, she had glimpsed through her window Cecily Cummings, or whatever her name was now, alighting from a carriage and entering the manor. Now Briercrest held both of the people she most never wanted to see again.

  While she said nothing, he must have gathered her thoughts from the expression on her face.

  “Please,” he said, and Joanna’s eyes widened when she realized that he was practically begging
her. “Please don’t go. Caroline would have my hide. She was quite looking forward to your visit. I promise you that I shall be on my best behavior. We shall pretend nothing ever happened in the past, and I shall stay as far from you as you choose. Is that fair?”

  Joanna sighed. She had been looking forward to spending time with Caroline as well. Her friend had remained here in the country since the summer, and as Joanna now lived in London, she had little opportunity to see her. If Eli was willing to keep his distance…

  “Very well,” she finally gave in, “but I will decide so for Caroline, not for you.”

  “Splendid,” he said, beaming, “she shall be extraordinarily pleased.”

  His face softened for a moment, and she wondered whether he was actually showing some vulnerability or if this was all an act.

  “I am sorry, Miss Merryton, truly I am. I’m not used to polite company, having spent so long away, and even before then—”

  “You were not much one for the entire politeness aspect?” she said wryly, and he chuckled.

  “I suppose not.”

  Joanna nearly laughed herself, but then she remembered who he was and that he always knew exactly what to do and say to keep himself from trouble — trouble which she had no time or energy for. She had been provided a brief respite from her work, but after this time away, it would be back to hours bent over her needlework once more, for this was the one holiday she would receive this year. This time had been hard worked for and should not be taken for granted.

  “I am sorry.”

  “You have said that a few times,” she said, finished with it all and no longer caring if anything she said to him was offensive in the least. “But are you truly sorry about what you said, or are you merely sorry because now I have become a woman you wouldn’t mind kissing under the mistletoe?”

  And with her nose in the air, she brushed by him and out into the corridor, quite proud of herself and her retort.

  She knew it wasn’t entirely true. She would never be as beautiful a woman as Cecily — Lady Danvers now — or Caroline, but, from the change in attention from young men she encountered, she was aware that she no longer blended into the wallpaper and the furniture as she once did.

  She only hoped she had made him think, so that the next poor soul he tried to capture under the Christmas canoodling bough wouldn’t go through what she did.

  For one thing was certain — no matter how handsome, how charming, how apologetic he was, that woman most certainly would never again be her.

  Chapter 3

  Elijah was captivated.

  He’d like to say it was because no other woman had ever spurned him so. No other woman had been uninterested in his advances. No other woman had ever spoken to him with such forthrightness, so unapologetic in her words toward him.

  But it was more than that.

  There was something about Miss Joanna Merryton. She was beautiful, in a fresh, unique way. Her green eyes reminded him of emeralds, but they were a bit too shrewd and just a bit too far apart from one another. They also had a bit of a cross-eyed look when she squinted that made him wonder whether her lack of spectacles was a choice.

  Her hair was a mix between gold and chestnut, sleek and fine, but also seemingly as straight as could be from what he could tell. The ringlet that seemed to be attempting to surround her face when he’d first sought her out had been nearly straight by the time he had left her room. Her cheekbones were high, and a dimple emerged every now and then when her mouth curled into a smile, even if it was a wry one — as it seemed to be whenever she looked at him.

  Maybe it was the way she held her nose in the air when she glanced his way, as though she was trying to convince herself that she was better than he and his rash behavior. He wasn’t sure, but, try as he might, he couldn’t stop looking at her throughout the entire dinner that evening.

  And this was but the first day of the Christmas party to be held at Briercrest.

  A Christmas party he had never expected.

  While he had been on the front lines, suffering from rations and lack of cheer, somehow he had assumed that everyone at home would be of an equally low morale.

  He had been entirely wrong. His family seemed in as good of spirits as ever. He had been as astonished as they when he had knocked on the door, only to find them preparing for a house full of guests.

  As a matter of fact, they had to rearrange his bedroom for him once more, as the maids had been in the process of preparing it for one of the couples who were to join them.

  They had assumed that he would be overjoyed by the party — for Elijah had always been known to love company. Little did they know that he had been looking forward to some peace and quiet.

  That, however, did not seem to be part of his near future. At least, not until after Christmas. A Christmas that would hopefully pass quickly.

  When he returned to the party, it was nearly time for dinner, and he wanted nothing more than to approach Miss Merryton to lead her in and to reacquaint himself with her. He cursed his memory, which, no matter how hard he wished it, was never going to be the same again. It had been annoying, but up to this point, he hadn’t much cared. Now, though, he had something to care about, for it seemed he had lost full memories of Joanna Merryton. Memories which, according to his sister and Miss Merryton, were not particularly good ones to begin with.

  He retook his seat across the drawing room, his eyes half shuttered as he watched her speak with Caroline, who was likely apologizing for his behavior yet again. He was so intent in his study that he nearly didn’t notice Cecily and her husband approach.

  “Elijah! How wonderful to see you! We are such old friends we can dispense with formalities, can we not?” she gushed. Cecily always gushed, as though every time she spoke to someone it was the height of excitement. He supposed it wasn’t the worst trait a person could possess, but it did become rather annoying after a time — especially when he knew that she was just as likely to turn around and gossip about everything she had just learned after one of her conversations. “I’m not sure if you have even met Robert before, have you? Or, should I say, Lord Danvers?”

  “Ah—” Elijah couldn’t entirely remember, but fortunately Danvers solved the problem for him.

  “Of course, Kentmore and I go back to our school days at Eton. How are you, old chap? Heard you had gone off to war. Wasn’t sure if we’d be seeing you here, after hearing the tales of your injury. That was a bad bit of luck. Good to see you’re in fine health.”

  Eli was somewhat taken aback that the story of his misfortune had already circulated through England. But, then, news of other’s misery seemed to travel faster than anything more pleasant.

  “All is fine,” Elijah said with what he hoped was an easy smile. “A small injury, and I was ready to come home as it was.”

  “Oh, yes!” Cecily exclaimed, bringing her hands together in front of her as she looked down at him with a benevolent smile. “I could hardly believe it when I heard you had been hurt. You always seemed to be… untouchable.”

  Elijah pressed his lips tightly together, hoping his expression wasn’t a grimace. As he looked around to see if dinner was going to be served anytime soon, he noticed that Joanna had drifted closer toward him, and he wondered if she could hear their conversation — and if she would even care about it if she did.

  She was speaking to Admiral Cuthbert at the moment, however, and he knew from experience that it was difficult to hear anything else when the admiral was in close proximity. He was a man Elijah could never forget, as the admiral had been such a close friend of his father for many years now.

  He could practically hear the admiral bellowing in Miss Merryton’s ear, but then, the admiral bellowed so much that one became used to the sound. Eli was just preparing to rise and save her — although he doubted she would see it as such — when his younger brother, Alexander, appeared beside her, offering his arm, no doubt to lead her in to supper.

  Elijah fell back into his chai
r, feeling sorry for himself, even though any cause for discord between him and Miss Merryton was entirely of his own doing.

  If only he were more like Alex. Alex, who always seemed to do the right thing, even when he was participating in Elijah’s schemes, or encouraging him into it.

  It would even be an improvement to be like Baxter, he supposed, looking across the room at his eldest brother, who was currently entertaining a circle of guests before leading them into the dining room. Baxter was just like their father — a touch obnoxious and prone to drink, but also a responsible, careful host, the perfect lord in every way.

  Thank goodness Baxter — Lord Baxter — already had two sons, now that the new baby had arrived, meaning the line would never fall into Elijah’s own unfortunate hands. As Cecily and her husband wandered off, Elijah supposed that he’d best take himself in to supper, for it seemed that no one would be waiting for him. Which was how it usually was.

  Elijah, the forgotten one.

  And how it should probably remain.

  * * *

  Joanna attempted to maintain a look of interest on her face as Lord Alexander and the admiral began speaking of his days at sea, although she wasn’t above taking the opportunity to begin slinking back and away from the conversation.

  She appreciated Lord Alexander’s approach, allowing her an escape, and she noted how courteous he was — always there to lend a hand when needed. So unlike Lord Elijah.

  Lord Elijah was sin. Temptation. Everything she normally ran from.

  But she couldn’t seem to avoid him.

  That was the truth of it, the real reason she wanted to leave — because she didn’t know if she would be able to hold herself back from him. She had seen him at his very worst, and yet still, she couldn’t help herself from desiring more time with him, even if it would only lead to ruin — her own ruin.

 

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