Merry Misrule

by St. Clair, Ellie

  Joanna warmed all the way through in happiness for her friend.

  “I’m so glad, Caro,” she said. “What changed his mind?”

  “You know,” Caroline said slowly, “I think it just might have been Elijah. It’s hard to even think of it, but since my father spoke to him, it seems that he changed his mind about a lot of things, really.”

  Joanna had to blink back tears. She had been so wrong about Elijah, in every way possible.

  “Have you seen him yet?” Caroline asked, and Joanna shook her head.

  “I haven’t,” she said softly. “I only hope that he can find it in his heart to forgive me.”

  “Of course he will,” Caroline said confidently. “If you could forgive him for all that he did to you years ago, then I’m sure he can do the same.”

  “He’s a different man now,” Joanna murmured, “even if he hasn’t shared exactly why.”

  She turned around, nerves filling her as the dress on the bed stared back at her. Could she do it? She, a seamstress, don such a creation?

  “It’s beautiful,” Caroline said, following her over and staring down at the garment.

  “But should I wear it, is the question,” Joanna murmured, and Caroline placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “You most assuredly should,” she said confidently. “Besides, you’ve already given Elijah his costume. Who else is going to match him?”

  “But what about the others? They might think—”

  “It doesn’t matter a fig what they think,” Caroline said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the bedpost. “I am marrying a footman. I’m sure they will all have plenty to say about that. But you know what, Jo? I don’t care. For what matters is that I love him, and I am going to be happy with him. Even if I have to become a housemaid myself.”

  “You’re right,” Joanna said softly, hope beginning to fill her. “Anything is possible.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Caroline said. “Now, let’s get this costume on you so that you can become the woman you were meant to be.”

  “Should we call for the maid?”

  “No, I shall help you,” Caroline said, and when Joanna was about to argue, she held up a hand. “It shall be good practice,” she said with a laugh, and, resigned, Joanna turned around and lifted her arms.

  Chapter 22

  There was no party quite like Twelfth Night.

  Especially Twelfth Night at Briercrest.

  It had been a few years since Elijah had been home for his parents’ end-of-the-Christmas-season party, but it seemed nothing had changed. If anything, the revelers were in much higher spirits than ever.

  There were the usual guests from the entirety of the Christmas house party, of course, but this was the one night each year when all societal classes no longer seemed to exist, when everyone was in costume and was someone else — or something else — for the evening. Villagers and servants alike were in attendance, and it had always been Elijah’s favorite evening of the year.

  Some revelers wore masks, while others wore elaborate costumes, many, he knew, sewn by Joanna’s hand.

  Never again, if he had anything to do about it. The only costumes she would be sewing would be those for their children, he vowed.

  That thought alone caused a fierce yearning to race through him.

  He dimly noted telling his mother that she looked beautiful, while his father passed by in his servants’ costume and told him that he would like a moment to talk to him in his study later. Elijah nodded absently, a small part of him curious about just what his father would like to speak with him about — likely something to do with Caroline and Thatcher — but not overly caring at the moment.

  There was but one thing he cared about right now. And that was Joanna.

  Where was she? Even if she was obscured by a mask, he would not only know her form, but would be able to sense her presence.

  And then, suddenly, he did. So did everyone else in the room. Cecily and her husband were speaking to him — although about what, he had no idea for he wasn’t even listening — and Cecily stopped mid-sentence and stared up with a gasp.

  For there, at the top of the staircase that led from the upper entrance down to the ballroom, was Joanna.

  Perhaps others in the room weren’t aware that it was she, but he knew.

  He could tell by the way she moved, by the way she carried herself, by the small, steady, unsure step she took as she began to descend the staircase.

  He didn’t do it consciously, but he felt himself moving toward her, drawn by her, needing to be close to her side.

  He met her when she reached the bottom step, holding up a hand to her as he bowed low.

  “Your Highness,” he said in a hushed voice, holding out his hand, as a crowd began to form around them. The odd whisper invaded his ears.

  “Who is that?”

  “Why is she dressed as the queen?”

  “Oh, what a dress.”

  But none of the whispers mattered.

  The only voice he needed to hear was Joanna’s.

  He led her onto the dance floor just as the musicians struck up a waltz. He glanced over toward them to find that his sister had been directing them, and she smiled broadly at him.

  He tugged on Joanna’s hand, pulling her toward the floor. She resisted for a moment.

  “Elijah, I have to tell you—”

  “Shh,” he said, “one dance, first.”

  “But—”

  “One dance?” he asked this time, and she finally nodded, allowing him to lead her.

  He grasped one of her hands, tightening his other around her waist, so grateful, at the moment, to simply have her in his arms once more. How could he have ever thought he could give her up, no matter that he had assumed he was doing so for the right reasons?

  Elijah knew people were watching them, but he was glad of it. They should all see Joanna for who she truly was, for how she deserved to be regarded.

  “You are beautiful,” he said, hearing the awe in his voice, needing her to know of it.

  She blushed most becomingly.

  “It’s the dress,” she said, looking down at herself. “It was the dress I wore on Christmas, but I made a few… modifications.” She leaned in close. “To be honest with you, I used a fair bit of fabric that Cecily provided me to make hers.”

  “Your secret is safe with me,” Elijah said with a laugh, and she smiled up at him. “But it’s not the dress. You could wear anything and be simply stunning.”

  “You look quite handsome yourself,” she said.

  “Why, thank you,” he returned, “although in my case, it most certainly is the costume that has made the man.”

  The song came to a close, and he bowed low over her hand. He noticed a figure coming up behind her, and he was well aware that many would be requesting her name for a dance.

  “Come,” he said, tugging at her hand once more, “the jester has a trick to play — I am going to make you disappear.”

  “Disappear?” she echoed, following along with him.

  “Just for a time,” he said, as he led her through the corridor, past doorways that had previously been filled with mistletoe and other greenery — all which had been removed and were now burning in a roaring fire in the drawing room.

  “Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly.

  “You’ll see,” he said, leading her down before finally stopping just before the library. “Joanna—”

  “No,” she said, holding out a hand and shaking her head, “I must speak first.”

  “Very well,” he said, rather liking the command in her tone.

  “Elijah, I’m so sorry,” she said, hanging her head slightly, but he reached out and lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes. “I didn’t believe in you, and that was wrong. I should have known that you would never leave me, that this would never be some great joke to you. I had thought that, perhaps, the boy you used to be might have done such a thing, but the ma
n you are now never would. You would never hurt me like that.

  “The truth is, Elijah…” her voice caught for a moment, tears filling her eyes, “the truth is that I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. I know that I am but a seamstress, and likely not a woman you would ever have seen yourself with, but I needed you to know how I feel. And I need you to know that you are more than worthy of finding a woman who will believe in you just as thoroughly.”

  “Oh, Joanna,” he said, reaching out and brushing away a tear that was traveling down her face with his thumb, “you have nothing to be sorry for. I did you wrong many years ago, it’s true. Yes, we can blame Alex, but I was just as much a part of it. Even when I first saw you here in this library at the beginning of this Christmas season, I wanted you because of your beauty, not taking time to find the woman you were beneath it all. But over this Christmastide, I have been blessed, because I have been provided the opportunity to know you, all of you, and I am a better man for it. That you would ever doubt me is my own fault. But—”

  Why did there have to be a but?

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t know… that is, my mind isn’t what it once was. There is an excellent chance that I will forget things that are important. That I won’t remember your birthday, or the servants’ names, or maybe even our own wedding.”

  She only smiled at him, her lips curling softly.

  “Then how fortunate I will be there to remind you of it all.”

  He nodded at her and then turned around, backing up through the doorway, coming to a stop just on the other side.

  He crouched down on one knee.

  “Joanna, there is one thing I promise to never forget — and that is how much I love you,” he said reverently, holding out his hand. “I have but one Christmas wish, and that is this — will you become my wife?”

  She stood there for a moment, saying nothing, and his heart nearly stopped as he waited, praying that she would agree.

  “Oh, Eli,” she said, tears beginning in earnest now, “of course I will.”

  He stood then, taking her around the waist and bringing her in close to him. He bent his head, touching his forehead to hers, the crowns they both wore clashing against one another, causing her to giggle.

  “I have a secret of my own,” he whispered.

  “Oh?”

  “Before the festivities began, I made sure that the mistletoe remained above this doorway.”

  “Oh, Eli,” she said pretending to hit him in admonishment, “you could be inviting the gremlins that way, leaving greenery up past Twelfth Night!”

  He laughed, long and loud, in gaiety that he had been missing for a long time now.

  “I’m willing to risk it,” he said, “but if you’re that concerned, I promise to take it down, after first putting it to good use,” and then he leaned down and took her lips in his, no longer able to hold himself back.

  Oh, how good she tasted, he realized as he moved his lips over hers, licking the seam of them until she opened to him and he swept his tongue inside, exploring, plundering, promising a lifetime and more.

  She clutched his shoulders as she returned his kiss with equal measure, and he ran his hands down her back, pressing her in against him, so that they were as flush as could be between the layers of clothing that separated them.

  Clothing that suddenly seemed to be far too cumbersome, too numerous between the two of them.

  But first, he sunk his fingers into her hair, tilting her head so that his mouth just brushed the soft skin between her ear and her jaw. He nibbled, tasted, then feasted as he she hummed her approval.

  His other hand lifted, his thumb brushing over her plush lips, and she opened them slightly and allowed it in before sliding it back and forth from one corner of her lips to the other.

  He trailed his mouth down her neck to her collarbone from where it began at her shoulder to where it ended at her throat. When she moaned, he lifted his hand to follow the path his mouth had traveled, until he reached the top of her bodice and finally slipped his hand beneath it, shoving aside the stays and chemise until he found what he was looking for.

  The hunger in Joanna’s eyes mirrored his, and he released her hair, needing to rid her of this infernal costume — although he did appreciate that it highlighted the queen she truly was.

  “Joanna,” he murmured, “my queen, no matter what you are wearing.”

  And with that, he went to work on the hooks and eyes, longing to rip them down the middle, but knowing how hard she had worked on this costume — on all of the costumes.

  Beads of sweat broke out on his brow from his concentration on removing each tiny, infernal fastening that he suddenly felt she had sewn just to tantalize him. She laughed lowly, apparently sensing his dismay, as she moved against him, and then, finally, he decided enough of this, and he pushed the bodice down as far as he could until her breasts were free.

  It would do — for now.

  * * *

  Joanna had been tempted to help him.

  But, as agonizing as the wait was, it had also been all too amusing to watch Elijah’s struggle with the back of her dress.

  And then his patience had worn out.

  Finally, when her breasts were free, he sat back on his heels and stared at her, blinking.

  “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, looking up at her, his eyes dark with need.

  She cupped his chin in her hands. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said with a laugh, reaching down to untie the top of his breeches on the costume that she had fashioned herself.

  Swallowing any nerves, she congratulated herself on her bravery as they fell away, and he stepped out of them, shucking them to the side as she swallowed at the sight of him. She had seen all of him before — had felt all of him before — but somehow it was still a shock, to think that this beautiful man before her was hers, that he wanted her, that he thought her as attractive as he apparently did.

  “I love you, Joanna,” he said, stepping close to her, catching her against him. “I love everything about you.”

  He lifted her skirts high and then gripped her hips beneath them, so his bare fingers were upon her. In one powerful motion, he had her lifted up and on top of the sofa at their backs.

  Joanna didn’t think he could move quickly enough, and she threw back her head with a moan when they joined together. Suddenly all of their words of love and tender caresses were forgotten, as the moment turned into one that was devoted to their need for one another.

  Elijah set a quick pace, one which led Joanna to loop her arms around his neck and hold on tightly, as the intensity he took her with soon sent her flying to her peak, fire exploding within her belly and spreading through her limbs with an unimaginable force. Elijah buried his face in her neck and groaned as he clung to her in desperation.

  For a moment, Joanna lost herself and became one with him, completely bound to him as they declared themselves to one another.

  Finally, slowly, consciousness returned as Joanna became aware of Elijah, softly crooning in her ear. She leaned back and took his face within her hands, cupping his chin as she searched his eyes, finding only peace.

  Elijah slowly smiled, his eyes dark and soul searching as he sighed in satisfaction.

  Joanna ran her fingertips up and down his back, and he shivered at her touch.

  “I love you too, Elijah,” she said, finally answering him, and he laughed lowly as he leaned in and took her lips softly and quickly.

  “Now,” he said, “are you ready to return, as queen of Twelfth Night?”

  She laughed lowly, kissing him once more.

  “Only if you’re my king.”

  “Always.”

  Chapter 23

  Joanna had been somewhat worried about their return to the ballroom, as though everyone would know simply by looking at them where they had been and what they had been up to.

  But she had nothing to be concerned about. During the time they had been gone, it seemed that ever
yone had truly lost all of their inhibitions, and the party was in full merriment.

  House guests, servants, and villagers alike were now in the midst of a truly scandalous, merry dance as they all filled the ballroom floor.

  The only attention she and Elijah received as they entered was from Caroline, who greeted them with an excited kiss on the cheek for both of them and then pulled them into the middle of the melee.

  They danced long enough that they were both ready for a drink themselves after a time, and Elijah pulled her to the side and began to murmur in her ear as he nuzzled it in the same breath.

  Joanna nearly swooned once more, until she opened her eyes to find a figure just beyond Elijah’s shoulder.

  “Eli,” she murmured, “Alexander is here.”

  He growled low in his throat before turning around to see his brother as well, although it seemed that Alexander had not yet seen the two of them.

  “I know that I am supposed to be a changed man,” Elijah said to Joanna, “but what do you say about a little mischief this Twelfth Night?”

  “I say that sometimes a little mischief is called for,” she said with a wicked smile, and he laughed.

  “What do you have in mind?” she asked, and then he proceeded to explain his plan. By the time he was done, she laughed in anticipation. “I love it,” she said, then did as he bid and made herself scarce, hiding at the side of the room, behind one of the columns where she could watch the proceedings.

  Elijah walked over to his brother, his shoulders stooped as he played the part of a jilted lover. Alexander reached out and clasped his shoulder, to which Joanna rolled her eyes. Surely he didn’t think that Elijah wouldn’t have found out about his attempt to keep the two of them apart?

  She saw Alexander’s head rise and a satisfied smile spread across his cheeks as Elijah shared with him the fib they had discussed — that Joanna had chosen Alexander and was awaiting him.