Merry Misrule

by St. Clair, Ellie

  It was more so the simple fact that he had done it that she couldn’t stop thinking about. As well as the fact that she had liked it.

  He had obviously been excited about their win, yes. But would he have kissed anyone, or just her? That was what she needed to know. But why — why did it matter so much?

  She trailed her finger through crumbs abandoned by the small sandwich on her plate.

  Elijah Kentmore. Not the man that she would ever expect herself to have any sort of feelings for, unless one counted resentment, anger, and, yes, attraction.

  But this desire for more, this yearning for him that wouldn’t go away — she hated herself for her betrayal. She had vowed to stay far away from him so that he could never hurt her again. Well, now she was opening herself up to the worst kind of hurt possible.

  She couldn’t let him come any closer.

  He might say he had changed, but how could she really be sure? How could she know this wasn’t all just some game to him, just like everything else was?

  The thought caused her breath to hitch in her throat — could she be a game? A bet? The ultimate prank, one she was falling directly into?

  She pushed her plate away on the table in front of her as she stood. But when she rounded the small settee, she walked right into the man who wouldn’t leave her thoughts.

  “Joanna,” he murmured, his voice low in her ear, and she wished that he didn’t look so dashingly handsome in his black breeches, buff waistcoat, and navy jacket.

  “Elijah,” she said, attempting to keep her tone emotionless, but when she looked up, he was wearing that I-know-exactly-what-you-are-thinking-about-but-trying-to-deny smile that was both maddening and endearing.

  “Ready for a game?” he asked, arching a brow, and she looked up at him quizzically.

  “What do you mean?”

  He winked at her then held out an elbow, which she took out of politeness — the only reason why, she told herself.

  He led her over to a small sitting area in the corner of the drawing room. It was where he had taken up residence the few nights prior when she had first arrived, but today it was full of guests. There was Lord and Lady Oxford, Lord Cristobel, Alex, Caroline, and Cecily and her husband, Lord Danvers.

  “Ah, just the people I was looking for,” Elijah said as they approached, and Joanna couldn’t help but glance up at him again. Just what was he on about? “Who would like to play a game?”

  “A game! I would love to!” Cecily exclaimed. “With just us?”

  “That was my thought,” Elijah said. “The rest might not be interested.”

  “Shall I ask Baxter?” Caroline asked, but Elijah shook his head.

  “He and Ophelia are best with the older set,” he said, coaxing a laugh out of the rest of them as he referred to the remainder of the house party, made up of his parents, Cecily’s parents, Lord and Lady Hollingtide, and Admiral and Mrs. Cuthbert. “Now, everyone else in? Good.”

  Joanna could only watch him, mystified. He was such a performer, so at ease speaking in front of the gathered group in front of him. He could command a crowd, hold their attention, make them all follow his every word and action.

  She had always been so critical of him for how hurtful he could be that she had never stopped to assess any of his qualities that were actually much more admirable.

  “Christmas,” he said, lacing his hands behind his back, “is about giving gifts.”

  “It is not!” Caroline interjected.

  “Have you given a gift today, Caro?” he asked, leaning forward and pinning her in his gaze.

  “Well, yes, but that’s not what—”

  “Very well, then. Christmas is about giving gifts.”

  He looked over at Joanna, tilting his head so that the others couldn’t see and winked at her — a gesture she liked to believe was reserved for her alone, although who could know for certain? She narrowed her gaze at his cheekiness.

  “What if I told you that I have in my possession the very best gift any of you could have asked for?”

  They all looked at him with both curiosity and skepticism.

  “What are you on about?” Alex asked his brother.

  “This gift is so valuable that I cannot even put a price on it.”

  “Who’s it for?” Alex asked.

  “That’s just it,” Elijah said, unlacing his hands and pointing at the rest of them. “It can be for any of you.”

  “I don’t understand,” Cecily said, leaning toward him, her shoulders hunching together so that the tops of her breasts were on perfect display. Joanna would like to think that it was an accident, but she had a feeling there was nothing accidental about it.

  “What I am proposing is that we play a game of gift swapping,” he said. “We each place on the table a wrapped gift, and then take turns selecting which gift we want. But the key to the game is that when it is your turn, you can either choose a wrapped gift from the table, or you can steal an opened gift from someone else.”

  They all began talking at once, asking questions or making protestations.

  Elijah held up a hand.

  “One at a time,” he said. “Cecily?”

  “The rest of us don’t have any gifts prepared,” she said, her lips turned down in a pout. “How are we supposed to play?”

  “You can choose a prized possession of your own,” he said, as though he were offering her a favor.

  “What if I don’t have anything I want to give away?”

  “Well,” he said with a shrug. “I suppose you will have to decide if it is worth taking part.”

  “But we don’t know what you have yet!” she protested — quite rightly, Joanna thought, although she would never voice her agreement with Cecily out loud.

  “You will just have to trust me,” he said, to which Alex snorted, although when Joanna looked at him, he was rubbing his nose as though someone else had done so.

  “If we do have something, it isn’t wrapped,” he added, frowning at his brother.

  “Of course you don’t,” Elijah said. “You knew nothing of my little game until this moment. We shall all take half an hour to go and prepare our gifts, and then we will meet back here.”

  “I’m not sure…” Alex said, but Elijah just shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s fine,” he said. “You don’t have to take part.”

  “I think it sounds quite entertaining,” Lady Oxford said, and finally the rest of them began agreeing.

  “All right,” Elijah said, “Half an hour. And remember, do bring something of value to make it fair and interesting. If you don’t return, we will know you aren’t interested. Away you go!”

  Joanna waited beside Elijah until the rest of them had left.

  She crossed her arms as she moved her gaze from the bay window showing the snowy field beyond to look at him out of the corner of her eye. “What is this all about?”

  “I told you I would get your pocket watch back.” He set his jaw determinately. “And I will.”

  “How are you sure this is going to work?” she asked. “How do you know that Cecily is going to bring the pocket watch? Or that anyone will return to the game? And what, exactly, is this mysterious gift?”

  He turned to her, looking around to see that no one was watching before he lightly chucked her on the chin. “So many questions. Not to worry. It will all work out.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I know Cecily. She will not want anyone to best her. She will not want it to seem that she owns anything that is less than what the rest of us put out. She cannot help herself from joining in for fear of being left out. As for the others — they will return. Everyone is too intrigued now by what I have to offer as well as how this game will go.”

  “And this surprise gift that you have?”

  “As much as I love standing here and answering all of your questions, that is actually something I must go figure out.”

  “You didn’t even have anything prepared?” Joanna was aghast. “But you
lied so effortlessly.”

  “You should see me play cards,” he said with a laugh before beginning to step away.

  “There’s just one more thing,” Joanna said hesitantly.

  “Yes?”

  She dipped her head, embarrassed to tell him, but unsure what else she was supposed to do.

  “I don’t have anything to play with.”

  “What about your new pocket watch?”

  Joanna looked up at him, startled, but found only interest in his eyes.

  “Well, the thing is…” she said slowly, with a bit of hesitation, unwilling to be vulnerable before him yet unsure what else she could do, “I kind of like it.”

  The surprise that lit his features was made all the better because it was in no way contrived, and Joanna blushed at the fact that he was now aware that she felt something more for him besides annoyance or anger.

  “It is quite a valuable watch,” he said, his face masking over once more. “But I’ll try to find an extra gift for you.”

  “Oh, no—” she began, shaking her head, not wanting to ask anything further from him than she already had.

  But he was gone, out of the room and on a mission.

  A mission for her.

  Chapter 11

  If Elijah wanted to win Joanna’s affections, he had to get this right.

  He had devised many schemes in the past. Most worked; some did not.

  This one had to.

  He returned to his bedroom, which reminded him of another man, one who had been quite a schemer in his youth.

  Eli wondered how long he would stay here, or whether he might decide to strike out on his own. He still didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. He could return to the army, he supposed, although he had no particular interest in doing so. He could sell his commission or receive half-pay, but what was he to do with his time? Perhaps his father would gift him with a property to manage this Christmas.

  He laughed at the thought.

  His family didn’t trust him. They never had. At least, they hadn’t from what he could remember. Elijah scratched his head as he looked around the room with its white walls, green curtains and green canopies. Now that he really considered it, it reminded him something of the forests just beyond the manor.

  He rummaged through his bureau, trying to determine just what he could give that would be worthy of the build-up he had noted. He stopped, considering. He could likely give anything he chose; he just had to make them think that it was something they desperately needed.

  Elijah tapped a finger against his chin as he looked at all that was before him. Finally, he settled upon it.

  His souvenir from Portugal. It was a rose that had been dried, crushed between the pages of a large book. That should do it. He gave the rose, instructions to mount it in one of his mother’s frames, and the book itself to his valet to wrap before he returned to the drawing room, receiving them back just before the deadline he provided the rest of them.

  Joanna was waiting, an eyebrow arched at his return.

  “Found something?”

  “I did,” he said, beaming at her, noticing the way the light brought out the gold hiding within her sleek chestnut strands. He wondered what her hair would feel like running through his fingers. He leaned in close.

  “A book from you. A rose from me.”

  “A rose?” she arched an eyebrow, and he nodded.

  “All the way from Portugal,” he said. “I shall need your help to sell its value.”

  “What would you like me to do?”

  “When you see it, you must pretend that you want it with all of your being — that it would mean more to you than anything else. We need Cecily to desire it badly enough that she will take it over trying to win back her own gift.”

  “Very well,” Joanna said, “although I still—”

  “Here we are!” Cecily sang out as she and her husband, Lord Danvers, approached, their hands full of wrapped packages. “We have our gifts.”

  She took a sideways glance over at her husband, as though she wasn’t pleased with whatever it was he had made her give up. The pocket watch, Elijah could only hope. He was buoyed by the thought that she didn’t have anything else with her that she could trade as part of the exchange.

  Once they all finally rejoined them, Elijah clapped his hands together.

  “Very well, time to begin,” he said, grinning at them all. “I can hardly wait until you see what I have. It’s unique, it’s exotic, and it’s from a land far away with quite a story behind it. I’ve brought a dice as well so we can all roll to see who goes first.”

  They took turns, and slowly began to unwrap each gift. Lady Oxford went first, seemingly pleased with the book she opened, and Elijah realized he hadn’t taken time to review its title. Lord Danvers went next, happy with the bottle of whisky he opened — a good gift, one that Elijah hadn’t considered.

  Alex then opened the pocket watch, and Elijah’s breath caught as he saw both Joanna and Cecily look toward it — Joanna with unquestionable longing, Cecily with a gleam of interest.

  Unfortunately, with the roll of the dice, it was Joanna’s turn next — he had hoped that she would be able to go after Cecily.

  “I—” she looked at him, then back at the watch, “I think I would like the pocket watch.”

  “You would,” Cecily said, but then her mouth quirked at the corner, and Elijah knew why — she was aware that she could steal back whichever gift she chose.

  Alex then had the opportunity to choose another gift, which he did quickly, displaying the pair of cufflinks he unwrapped.

  “My turn,” Elijah said smartly, then picked what he knew was his gift. He looked around at them all. “I must confess that I am choosing my own gift. I know I shouldn’t, but it has to be done.”

  He unwrapped the package as though greatly anticipating what was within, before delicately picking out the flower that was within a small frame he had filched from his mother’s parlor.

  Joanna gasped on cue, and he could have kissed her — again — for her excellent performance.

  “What is it?” Caroline asked.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  “Well, Eli, you have been teasing it since this game began, so should you not share?”

  “Very well,” he said, heaving a sigh as though it gave him great pains to do so. “It is a flower.”

  “That’s it?” Alex said wryly. “A flower?”

  “Yes,” Elijah said with a nod. “And now that I have thought of giving it away… I think I’d like to keep it.”

  Alex and Caroline, both well-versed in his games, both looked at him skeptically, but he saw he had caught Cecily’s attention. She leaned over and whispered in her husband’s ear, and Elijah heaved a true sigh of relief that both of them didn’t still possess a turn, or else he might have lost it all.

  “What kind of flower is it?” Cecily asked, although she leaned back as though trying not to show her interest.

  “It is rather exotic,” he said, although in truth it was an ordinary rose — one given to him by his nurse who he at first thought had been sweet on him, but, as it turned out, was only pining for her own lost love, to whom he bore a resemblance. “I cannot say that I actually know its name. In Portuguese, it is called a ‘rosa vermelha.’”

  “A rosa vermelha?” Caroline said, wrinkling her nose. “But that just means—”

  “I have heard of those before,” Joanna jumped in, “but I cannot say that I have ever had the opportunity to see one in person.”

  “Well, then, this is your lucky day,” he said. “There is quite a story behind it, as well.”

  “Oh, do tell,” Lady Oxford said, clapping her hands together. “I love a good story.”

  “Very well,” he said, settling himself into his seat as he let his imagination roam. “It begins at Christmas — although the Christmas of our story was nothing like the party we currently find ourselves enjoying.”

  He saw he had t
heir attention now, and he warmed to his tale.

  “There was a woman — is there not always a woman? — she was beautiful, of course, with jet-black hair and eyes the shade of violet. Every man who laid eyes on her became smitten, vowing that he would win her affections, but none never did. For her love was held for one man, and one man alone. But he was gone, away at war, and she wondered if he would ever return. She watched for him, waited for him, never stopped looking out the window to see if he might appear. Day after day, the path to her house remained empty, but for the soldiers beyond, marching by as they went to battle, reminding her of his absence in her life.

  “Then, that Christmas, as she went to lock the door before going to bed for the night, a shadow on the path caught her eye. He stumbled, but forced himself up the walk and to her door. He didn’t even have a chance to knock before she had it open, and went flying into his arms.”

  He looked up and met Joanna’s eyes. Her lips were parted, her green eyes glossy as she waited to hear the end of the story.

  “It was her lost love. He had to lean on her to make it into the house, and she led him over to lie down. He looked up at her, his eyes glassy, but was able to lift a hand and stroke her hair back away from her face. ‘I love you,’ he said.”

  He paused for a moment, having to fight the lump that had formed in his own throat, knowing how close he had been to becoming this man.

  “And then what?” Caroline demanded.

  “Then he breathed his last,” Elijah said and they all looked at him in dismay. “She kissed his cheek, and as she did, his arm fell to the floor. Within his hand was this flower. She hadn’t seen it before. He had picked it for her. She pressed the flower into a book — that book, actually…” he pointed to Lady Oxford’s hand, “and saved it. She said that whoever possesses it will always know true love.”

  “That’s beautiful,” Joanna breathed, although he noted that his siblings were both still looking at him as though unsure whether or not to believe him — which was fair.

  “How do you have it?” Lady Oxford asked.

  “She nursed me back to health,” he said with a small smile of remembrance. “She said I reminded her of him.”