Merry Misrule

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Merry Misrule Page 10

by St. Clair, Ellie


  Yet somehow he fervently hoped she accepted him all the same — which was why he had to manage this carefully.

  He looked around for Caroline, hoping that she was here to defend her friend, but his sister was nowhere to be found. New worries invaded now as he wondered if she had run off somewhere with the footman.

  He knew it wasn’t exactly his problem to address, but Baxter was too caught up in his own affairs while his father seemed to have dismissed the thought of Caroline becoming involved in anything more than a flirtation with a footman.

  Which was a mistake. For he knew his sister, and once Caroline made up her mind about something, it was nearly impossible to dissuade her. If she thought she was in love with Thatcher, then he knew she would go to any lengths to be with him, even if it was only to prove to them all that she was serious about him.

  When he stood to find her, however, he noted that now Joanna was gone as well, and he lifted his hands out to the side and then returned them in exasperation. This house party was going to drive him mad, for more reasons than one.

  He turned to find Alex was standing there, drink in hand as he watched him, his expression one of both suspicion and knowing, as though he was well aware just what was bothering him.

  “She just left,” Alex said dryly. “Cecily arranged for all of the women to bring her their dresses so that she could get to work.”

  Elijah was already shaking his head. “That isn’t right. She’s a house guest, not a servant.”

  Alex shrugged. “She is a seamstress. Cecily was right about that. And she agreed.” He eyed him with undisguised interest. “Why does it matter so much to you, anyway?”

  “It doesn’t,” Elijah said, masking his concern. It was not that he cared if his brother knew he was interested in Joanna — as long as she returned his affections. If she didn’t, then he had no wish to be embarrassed by unrequited love. Not love, he corrected himself. Interest. “I actually wasn’t looking for Joanna — Miss Merryton — anyway. I was wondering where Caroline had gone off to.”

  “Ah,” Alex said, looking around quizzically, “that I am not entirely sure about. I haven’t seen her in quite some time.”

  “And that didn’t concern you?” Elijah lifted a brow. Why was he the only one who was worried about Caroline? He was supposed to be the one who didn’t care about anything but his own actions and how he could entertain all of those around him.

  “Caroline is a grown woman,” Alex said with a shrug. “If she chooses to ruin herself with the footman, then she must suffer the consequences. She is well aware of what they are.”

  “And just what would those be?” Elijah questioned. “To marry the man? Father would never agree to it.”

  “Of course not,” Alex scoffed. “No, he would find some other poor sod for her, who would marry her for the family name and her dowry.”

  “She would hate her life.”

  “She would. But she would have chosen it.”

  Elijah heaved a sigh. If he was the only one who had any particular concern about this, then he was the one who was going to have to do something about it. Lord help him.

  Or… there was someone else who would care. Someone he was fairly sure he could rely on.

  She was just rather busy at the moment.

  * * *

  Joanna was an excellent seamstress — of that, she was well aware. But even so, she pricked her finger for the second time in a matter of minutes, and she cursed before bringing it to her mouth, sucking on it to stop the bleeding.

  Cecily had taken great joy last night in bringing her all of the costumes she was to create, and as Joanna had expected, there was much more work to do than a few simple alternations. Twelfth Night was not far away, but Joanna decided that if she got an early start, then hopefully she could enjoy some evenings before it would be time for the party, and then a speedy return to London. She had been incredibly blessed to be provided with this time away, and she was not pleased with the idea of spending most of it in her room working, but she wasn’t sure what else she could have done. To argue with Cecily, the wife of a lord, in front of a room with many other peers would not have been the ideal situation.

  She was interrupted by a knock at the door, and she jerked in surprise, stabbing herself again.

  “Bloody hell,” she shook her head. “Literally.”

  A chuckle came from the doorway. “Such language.”

  “Elijah,” she greeted him as he let himself in. “Welcoming yourself to my chambers again?”

  “It seems I am,” he said with a low laugh, one that caused a fluttering in her belly. “There is something I must talk to you about. Two things, actually.”

  “Very well,” she said, holding her hand out in front of her. “Come in.”

  He did, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him with a soft click as he looked around him, dismay evident on his face.

  “Joanna,” he said, his voice softening, “what are you doing?”

  “Altering dresses,” she said in an isn’t-it-obvious way, and he tilted his head as he looked at her while crossing his arms over his chest and leaning backward.

  “But why?”

  “I was asked to,” she said simply.

  “You could have said no.”

  “Could I have though?” she said, looking up at him in supplication from the chair she sat in near the window, where at least she could see out on the day beyond. “I shouldn’t even be here,” she said with some exasperation. “I may have a trickle of noble blood, true, but I am still a seamstress. I am fortunate to be friends with Caroline. If I wasn’t, then the only place I would be welcomed at Briercrest is the servants’ entrance.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “But it is.”

  They were silent for a moment, and she wondered if this was the first time he had ever truly considered the difference in their stations, and what it might mean.

  It was why she was doing all she could to hold herself back from him.

  “Cecily gave me a list of all of the costumes,” she said, breaking the silence.

  “Oh?”

  “Do you know what you are to wear?”

  “I hadn’t given it any particular thought.”

  “You are the jester,” she said, and he pushed himself off the wall at her words, holding himself upright as he studied her.

  “Says Cecily?” he ground out.

  “Cecily and Ophelia made the list. They are planning the party while your mother is overseeing the food and drinks. Or so I am told.”

  “I see,” he said, his words tense.

  “You obviously have no wish to take on such a role,” she observed, raising an eyebrow, and he shook his head.

  “I most absolutely do not,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I’ve had enough of that throughout my life. I don’t need to be placed into the role once more.”

  “Because you don’t like that side of you, or because you think others disrespect it?”

  He paused, his eyes locking on hers, as though he had never considered the thought before.

  “Both, I suppose.”

  Joanna looked down as silence reigned again, and she hated that the trust and camaraderie they had built up over the past few days seemed to be breaking as they were both relegated to roles that had not been chosen but assumed and assigned to them.

  “Then choose something else,” she said, meeting his gaze again. “Choose whichever role you’d like, and I will create the costume for you. Or…” She paused, smiling wickedly, “I can trade you. Let’s give Baxter the role of the jester.”

  Light gleamed in Elijah’s eyes.

  “He would hate that.”

  “He would,” she said, “but perhaps I just got mixed up. You are much taller than he, but he is much wider. There would be no way to alter the costumes in time once I gave it to him.”

  “I like the way you think,” Elijah said, smiling wider. “Let’s do it.”

  She smiled impishly at him
then, enjoying the secret to be shared by the two of them, but then she realized he had said there were two things to address.

  “What else did you need from me?”

  A kiss… that would do, she thought, the idea surprising her, although she could never be forward enough to say the thought out loud.

  “It’s about Caroline,” he said, sinking into the vanity chair across from where she sat near the window, and he looked out the window, his thumb on his chin. “She and the footman, Thatcher… what do you think of it? Is it just a harmless flirtation, or should I be concerned?”

  Joanna bit her lip, unsure of how much she should share.

  “It is likely best you ask Caroline.”

  “I would, if I could find her,” he said, “but besides dinner last night, she’s been a ghost. What is she doing? You are her closest friend, invited to this house party where you don’t know anyone else, and yet she leaves you alone.”

  “It’s not her fault,” Joanna said, knowing he was right but unable to help the loyalty to Caroline.

  “It is, though,” Elijah said. “Please tell me — should I be concerned?”

  “I don’t think concerned is the right word,” Joanna said carefully, her heart unable to resist the despair in his dark eyes. “But I do think that what she feels for Thatcher should not be dismissed lightly. Her feelings for him are strong.”

  He sighed heavily. “That’s what I was afraid of.” He began pacing the pink and green Aubusson carpet that lined the room. “I don’t even know anything about the man.”

  “You don’t?” Joanna said, surprised. “He’s been with your family for years — long before you left for the war.”

  “He has?” he said, stopping and looking at her, before a mask covered his face. “Of course he has. I knew that.”

  “Did you though?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “What’s wrong, Eli?” she asked softly, and for a moment, she thought that he was going to tell her, to open up to her and reveal whatever it was that had happened to him. But then the moment was gone and his face was shuttered once more.

  “Nothing at all,” he said with a forced smile. “Just reacquainting myself with my life here. Now,” he crossed the room toward her, placing his hands on the arms of her chair, trapping her within it, “come sledding with us.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, disappointment invading, for the thought did sound rather wonderful. “I have so much to do. I really shouldn’t.”

  He rolled his eyes. “And what is going to happen if you don’t finish these costumes? Cecily will be upset with you? I honestly don’t think that should matter at all.”

  She considered his words. She did feel an obligation to complete the work, but at the same time… he was right.

  “Very well,” she said, putting her work to the side. “Let’s go.”

  “That’s the spirit,” he said, pulling her to her feet and kissing her long and hard, his lips firmly on hers. It lacked the passion of his previous kiss, but held plenty of intention. “We’ll have fun — I promise.”

  His eyes glinted, and she looked up at him, hoping for more but unsure just how to say it.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.

  “I…” her heart beat hard in her chest, “I’d like, ah, that is—” she swallowed hard. She shouldn’t ask. She should leave their relationship as it was, for there was no promise of anything more than a bit of fun, and she didn’t trust her heart to leave it at that.

  But it didn’t seem she had a choice any longer. “Kiss me again?”

  “Gladly.” He grinned, his eyes lighting in pleased surprise, and then his lips were on hers once more, his hands coming to her back as she placed hers on his chest, slipping her fingers over the top of his waistcoat. Today he tasted like coffee, whisky, and trouble.

  Trouble she wanted more of.

  Trouble she had always run from.

  Trouble she could no longer ignore.

  Chapter 14

  Elijah had spent a great deal of the past few years outdoors.

  But battlefields and camps didn’t count, he decided as he took a great inhalation of the winter air.

  Nothing compared to home, to the grounds of Briercrest, to the scents of pine and snow and fresh crispness.

  All made better by the rosy-cheeked woman beside him.

  He had finally wrenched himself away from her after their kiss in her bedroom. How he was going to make it through the rest of this Christmastide without taking her to the end of satisfaction, he had no idea. Never had a woman tempted him so, and he wanted nothing more than to convince her that she should be forever promised to him.

  The thought should scare him. He had never been one to be particularly concerned with finding a woman and marrying. He had an older brother, who had a son of his own, and before Christopher, if anything had happened to Elijah, there had always been Alex.

  But then Joanna had returned to his life, and the thought of marriage was no longer so troubling.

  He didn’t want to scare her, however, and so he decided he would take things slow. As far as he could tell, she was only just beginning to no longer hate him. That was a good start.

  She had donned a pelisse for this sledding adventure, and while he knew the women would likely mostly just watch the children and the men as they slid down the hill, he was looking forward to sharing the day with her.

  His sister was here, thank goodness, although Thatcher was accompanying the lot of them as well, dragging the sled behind him. The two of them were practically flaunting their relationship, with their shared glances and inability to look at anyone else save one another. He was of a mind to go tell his sister exactly what he thought, except he knew that it would be met with hostility, and he vowed that today he would bring only fun in order to convince Joanna that she had made the right decision in going along with his plan.

  He looked across the snow and winked at her, to which she blushed and turned her head away. He merely laughed and drew near.

  “Joanna,” he said, nodding at her as though it was the first time they had spoken that day. “Would you fancy a ride?”

  Her eyes widened. “A ride?”

  “On the sled,” he said, nodding his head behind him. “I can pull you if you’d like.”

  “Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head vigorously, “I can walk just fine.”

  “All right,” he said with a shrug. “I would take it, though, if I were you.”

  She bit her lip but continued to shake her head at him, although this time it was with laughter more than annoyance.

  He enjoyed her company as they walked to the hill, the day pleasant and the snow warming into that melty feeling that makes it perfect to create a snowball — although today, he vowed he would not launch anything at Joanna, nor anyone else, in an effort to prove his maturity.

  “Come,” he said as they reached the bottom of the hill. And a magnificent hill it was.

  Evergreens lined the top, so full and so green, but even better, Eli could already smell them from the bottom of the hill, along with the fresh crispness of the winter air. They bordered the hill itself, as though nature had planned this runway with children in mind. The children took hold of the rope of their sleds and began to climb with the energetic enthusiasm that only the very young possess.

  Joanna laughed when the first of them came whizzing by with glee, laughter renting the air.

  “Let’s go down.”

  “Us? The two of us?”

  He laughed. “Yes, of course.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t,” she said, her eyes wide.

  “Why not?”

  “Because, sledding isn’t exactly… ladylike, is it?”

  He chuckled. “It’s Christmas. It’s sledding. It’s fun. I don’t think anyone here will particularly care.”

  “Perhaps Baxter and Ophelia,” she murmured, to which he rolled his eyes and waved a gloved hand.

  “No one particularly cares what they think,�
�� he said. “Now, race you to the top!”

  And with an impish grin he was nearly sprinting up the hill, looking back to see that Joanna had taken his challenge and was charging up after him as fast as she could in the skirts that were swirling around her legs.

  He slowed, allowing her to catch up, before sprinting past her to the top, where she joined him, her breath coming in puffs.

  “That was not particularly well done,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she frowned at him, and he laughed.

  “Probably not,” he said, as the two of them stood at the top and watched others from their party begin to climb the hill. It seemed that the rest of them were following their lead, as men, women, and children alike were dragging their sleds up. He noticed Lord Cristobel frowning as he watched Thatcher pulling Caroline’s sled, and she walked beside him as if the two of them were as paired as he and Joanna — which, he supposed they were. For who were he and Joanna together? They were nothing — yet. But they would be, he promised himself. He just had to do this right. He would court her, win her affections, prove to her that he could be the man she didn’t know she needed.

  Alex joined them next, one eyebrow raised as he stepped past them silently, and Elijah wondered just what his brother was thinking. He always seemed to be planning, calculating, and sometimes it unnerved him.

  Once he was on the other side of them, Elijah pulled his sled forward and sat down on the back of it, before motioning for Joanna to sit in front of him.

  “Come with me?” he asked, holding a hand out, and then Alex spoke from beside them.

  “You are also welcome to accompany me, Miss Merryton,” he said smoothly, “or if you prefer, you can have the sled all to yourself.”

  Elijah shot him a look of displeasure, which Alex ignored.

  “I—” her eyes flicked from one of them to the other, and Elijah wondered if she was truly having difficulty choosing or if she was simply trying not to insult either one of them. “I am sorry, but I had already promised Elijah.”

 

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