Regency Christmas Box Set: Risking it all

by Regina Darcy

  Stars appeared in Julianna’s vision as she tried to make sense of what her friend was saying.

  “The truth, Christiana?”

  A broad smile settled itself on Christiana’s face. “Why, that he cares for you too, of course. What else could it be?”

  ***

  It was not until three hours later that Julianna finally met Ingraham again. He had not come to sign her dance card nor had he made any particular effort to come in search of her. Julianna had not known what to make of this, despite the fact that Christiana’s words were still ringing in her ears.

  Upon seeing him, Julianna felt her heart flutter, moving towards him quickly so that he could not escape from her. Ingraham inclined his head, his brown eyes somewhat darker than she remembered them.

  “Julianna,” he murmured, his gaze flickering over her. “Might I say that you look particularly lovely this evening.”

  “That is all thanks to you, I hear,” she replied swiftly. “I must apologise to you, Ingraham. I did not know that you had purchased these gowns for me.” Embarrassed, she dropped her gaze. “I thought it Lady Thayne’s kindness.”

  He shrugged, his gaze drifting over her shoulder. “I am glad you like them, Julianna,” he replied. “Now, I will not keep you from your other admirers. Do excuse me.”

  Julianna’s head shot up, astonished to see him turn away from her as though to walk away. Her face burned as she called his name, seeing one or two of the other guests glance at her in surprise.

  “Yes, my dear cousin?” Ingraham asked, his voice catching the attention of those who had looked at her in the first place. “What is the matter?”

  She flushed again, aware that her cheeks were burning with heat. “Might you walk with me for a time, Ingraham? The air is rather warm, and as you know, I am not inclined to dance this evening.”

  “Not even with Lord Mowbray?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

  Julianna smiled a little self-consciously, wondering if he realised just how surprised he sounded. “Not as yet,” she replied with a slight shrug. “Although he has greeted me.” She held his gaze steadily, seeing him flush and turn his head away.

  “I was rude,” he admitted eventually, offering her his arm. “I do apologise, Julianna.”

  Almost weak with relief, Julianna accepted his arm at once, and they began to meander along the edge of the ballroom, out of the way of most of the other guests. “I am sorry if I was overly sharp with you this afternoon, Ingraham,” she began quietly. “I do not want to put any sort of enmity between us.”

  Ingraham shook his head, reaching over to pat her hand with his free one before he turned to look at her. “You need not apologise, Julianna,” he said softly as they came to a stop. “It was I who was foolish. I spoke without thinking, ignoring the warning in my mind that I was not doing right.” His gaze lowered to the floor for a moment as he took in a long breath. “I apologise.”

  She smiled at him, feeling tears burning in her eyes. “I cannot hold anything against you. Not when you have been so kind to me.”

  “But I should not use the trust and friendship that has grown between us to step out of place,” he said fervently. “Nor should I have left you as abruptly as I did. I confess…” Trailing off, his brow furrowed all the harder, leaving her almost breathless with a sudden anticipation.

  “Confess what?” she asked breathlessly, aware that he was now holding her hand in his own. Sparks shot up her arm, sending a tingling all through her. She did not know what he was to say, nor what he wanted to say, but the anticipation was sending waves of excitement all through her.

  Slowly, Ingraham raised his head and looked at her. “I confess,” he murmured, his breath whispering across her cheek. “I confess that I was struggling with a good many emotions this afternoon, not all of which I recognised.”

  “I see,” she replied, her free hand pressed against her heart. “Pray tell, what was the nature of these emotions?”

  There came no reply. Julianna saw him suddenly glance up, his ears burning with a fierce colour. Forcing herself to breathe steadily, she looked above them to see a kissing bough hanging just above their heads.

  Mistletoe berries seemed to shine in the candlelight with some notable by their absence. It appeared some gentlemen had already stolen a kiss.

  With her heart thudding in her chest, all she could think of was, Please kiss me.

  It was as though time slowed. Ingraham reached up and plucked a mistletoe berry from the bough, bringing it down slowly between them. Julianna could barely draw breath, her eyes fixed upon it as the promise of what it might bring blossomed before them.

  “Julianna,” he breathed, taking a step closer to her. The mistletoe berry was no longer what he gazed at, his eyes now fixed on her own.

  “Miss Wade?”

  The sound of Lord Mowbray voice broke the spell that the mistletoe was casting around them.

  “No,” Julianna whispered, reaching out to grasp the side of Ingraham’s coat, pulling him a little further into the shadows. “No. Please do not abandon me now.”

  It was too late. She could see it in his eyes.

  Shaking his head, Ingraham looked down at the mistletoe berry in his hand. Then, without warning, he dropped it to the floor, let go of her hand, and stepped away.

  NINE

  Charles was growing frustrated with himself. He could not seem to forget Julianna, and yet he knew that Lord Mowbray was the better gentleman for her. Lord Mowbray was titled and, by all appearances, seemed to be taking his responsibilities seriously. He required a bride who would bring him an heir, and Charles could think of no one better than Julianna.

  Except for the fact that for whatever reason, he could not remove Julianna from his mind, especially not now that he had almost kissed her. It had been some days since that event, and even though they had spent time together, even though he had watched Lord Mowbray and Julianna grow closer in their acquaintance, he could not rid himself of the desire to haul her into his arms and press his mouth to hers as he had almost done the night of the ball.

  That had been foolishness in itself. He knew full well that, as Julianna had walked with him, he had guided them towards the kissing bough, even though he ought not to have. To have even entertained pressing his lips to hers was ridiculous. He was not a gentleman who thought about marriage or the like! He was a man who liked to travel throughout England, and on occasion to France, simply to play cards and enjoy his life.

  To marry would mean an end to all of that, would it not? He would have to settle down, to consider his future and, mayhap, find some sort of profession. Not that he didn’t have a small manor house of his own to care for, courtesy of his father the Earl of Davenport. If he remembered correctly, it had some land and tenants to go with it, but he had never paid attention to these kinds of matters. Having a steward meant that he could leave the running of the house and the caring of the land and his tenants to him, freeing Charles from all sense of responsibility.

  And yet for whatever reason, he could not think of a life without Julianna Wade. In fact, to go back to the life he had once known seemed dull and boring in comparison to what he had now. Their friendship had grown with every day that passed, even though his own tumultuous feelings had added a strain to his mind.

  Even when she had spoken to him about what he had said to Lord Mowbray, he had not been angry with her. Rather, he had been ashamed of himself, struggling to come to terms with this new strength he had seen displayed in her. She was not, he had realised, the quiet, defenceless lady he had once thought her. She had a strength all her own, a courage that ought to be respected. There was still so much about her that he had to learn, still so much about her that he wanted to uncover, but that would only come if he allowed him to consider what a future with her might look like.

  “Ingraham!”

  Closing his eyes, Charles drew in a long breath before turning to greet none other than Lord Mowbray, who had evidently also chosen to come out for
a short walk before preparing for this evening’s ball.

  “Good evening, Mowbray,” he replied, reminding himself that this was his friend and not, in fact, someone he was battling against for Miss Wade’s affections. He had pushed Lord Mowbray towards Julianna, had he not? He could not exactly be angry with the fellow for pursuing her, now could he?

  “I hope you are looking forward to the ball this evening,” Lord Mowbray said jovially. “I hear it is a wonderful event. I was not here last year for the little Season, although I have heard delightful things about the Duke of Essington’s Christmas ball.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Charles replied dully. “Wonderful.”

  “Julianna is to attend,” Lord Mowbray remarked, as though Charles were unaware of this. “I think this evening would be an excellent time for the lady to find herself engaged, would it not?”

  Charles closed his eyes for a moment, battling against his sudden urge to slam a fist in Lord Mowbray’s face. “Indeed, it would,” he replied harshly. “I hope she accepts you.”

  There was silence for a moment or two as they walked in silence.

  Charles could not think of what to say, berating himself for his foolishness.

  “You do recall what I said to you that day, don’t you, Ingraham?” Lord Mowbray voice was quiet, his question gently probing.

  “Yes,” Charles muttered, not wanting to recall how, on the day Lord Mowbray had first come to call upon Julianna, he had evidently seen something in Charles’s expression. Mowbray had spoken to him bluntly as he had taken his leave, although Charles had attempted to deny the truth in Lord Mowbray’s words. “You stated that should I wish to pursue Miss Wade myself, you would not stand in my way.”

  Lord Mowbray cleared his throat. “Am I to presume that you have not chosen to do just that?”

  “You presume correctly,” Charles stated firmly, hating himself for those words. “You are much better suited to her than I am.”

  “That is not what I asked,” Lord Mowbray replied, coming to a dead stop with a look of evident frustration on his face. “This is not about which one of us is better suited to the lady, for in that regard, I think that there is no particular difficulty with either of us.” He shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. “You do understand, Ingraham, that I do not hold the lady in any sort of deep affection?”

  Charles’s stomach twisted. “I am sure that will come, Mowbray.”

  “It may not,” his friend replied evenly. “And yet, you evidently care for the lady but have chosen not to pursue her, which I confess to be most confusing. If I cared so much for a lady, then I would do all I could to make her my own. I do not think, Ingraham, that there are many marriages in London who can profess to love one another with the deep affection you appear to have for Miss Wade. That is a rare thing indeed.”

  Charles said nothing, his lips drawn tight and thin. He could not even get his thoughts into coherent order, such was his confusion. He did not love Julianna, surely? To love another was something reserved for novels and the like, an idea which he had scorned before on many occasions. And yet, here one of his dearest friends was suggesting that this affection he had was, in fact, the very first strains of love.

  “I think, Charles, that you need to carefully consider what you will do next,” Lord Mowbray said slowly. “I have every intention of proposing to Miss Wade tonight, as I have told you, but if you wish to seek her hand instead, then I will gladly step aside. However, if you do not appear this evening, Ingraham, then I will know that you have chosen to give it all up. I will know that you intend to go back to your life, such as it was, without her. I will do everything in my power to care for Miss Wade in every way as my wife, but I do not think that it should be I who proposes to her this evening. However, I will do just that if you are not present, Ingraham. I will keep her safe and protected, even if you will not.” He tipped his head, his eyes firm as they bored into Charles. “You are foolish indeed if you give her up.”

  Nothing more was said between them. Charles barely noticed when Lord Mowbray left his side, standing staring out at nothing in particular, whilst blood roared in his ears. Hail began to fall from the skies, hitting his forehead and cheeks with such ferocity that he started in surprise.

  Rubbing his arms, Charles turned on his heel and began to walk briskly back to his townhouse, his stomach churning with sudden confusion. Was it not Julianna who had said something about promising her mother she would marry for love? Could he himself not be the fulfilment of that? It would mean giving up many things, but for Julianna, perhaps it would not feel too burdensome. He groaned, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand as hail stones rolled down the back of his neck, making him shiver.

  He would no longer be able to gamble with such a fervour as he did at present, for he would have to ensure that his wife was comfortable and taken care of at his small manor house. He would have to take on the duties and responsibilities he had been avoiding for so long. Everything in his life would have to change.

  “They have already changed,” he muttered to himself, realising that the moment he had first decided to help Julianna had been the start of it all. He had chosen her, he had chosen to go to her side and, in doing so, had changed his world forever.

  His brow furrowed as he climbed the stone steps into his townhouse, thrusting his sodden hat and gloves towards the butler.

  “Sir,” the butler stammered, looking at Charles and evidently seeing that he was not in the best frame. “You have a visitor. One I was unable to turn away.”

  “If it is Lord Mowbray, then I do not wish to see him,” Charles growled, peeling off his wet coat. “Is there a blazing fire in the drawing-room? I am a little chilled.”

  “Yes, sir, there is,” the butler replied. “That is also where your visitor remains. He had no card with him, but I thought to allow him to wait for you there, since it is such a cold day.”

  Charles sighed inwardly, lifting one eyebrow. “Well?” he asked brusquely. “Who is it?”

  The butler cleared his throat. “It is Viscount St James,” he replied, with a look of evident worry in Charles’s direction. “He said he has been looking for you for some time and would not be delayed any further, else I would have insisted that he call another day as you asked.”

  At the name, Charles felt his blood turn cold. He stared at the butler as though he had not heard the man correctly, only to see his servant drop his gaze, looking rather upset.

  “I am sorry if I have done wrong, sir.”

  “No, no,” Charles muttered, his heart thumping wildly. “You have done nothing wrong. Thank you. I—I will go and see him now.”

  “Should I fetch you something to drink, sir?”

  Charles shook his head and walked towards the drawing room, feeling his heart thundering with a sudden nervous anxiety. He did not know how Viscount St James had found him nor what it was the man intended to say, given that they had never really met, but at least, Julianna was quite safe. He would not give her location up to the man, not even if he was threatened with death. Charles had to hope that Lord Mowbray would do as he had promised and propose to her tonight. Then, at least, she would be safe.

  With a good deal of trepidation, Charles squared his shoulders, set his jaw, and reached for the door handle. Turning it quickly, he threw open the door and stepped inside, ready to meet his adversary.

  TEN

  Julianna could not pretend that she was not deeply disappointed. She had hoped that Ingraham would be present this evening at the Duke and Duchess’s ball, but it appeared that he was still quite absent. Each and every guest was announced, and as yet, she had not heard his name. The Christmas ball was wonderful in every other aspect, with the usual greenery, garlands, and paper flowers decorating almost every surface. She had heard mention of wassail and mulled wine as part of the refreshments, and as she had arrived, there had been a thin layer of snow on the ground—but none of it had lifted the disappointment from her shoulders.

  “
You are looking for Ingraham, I think.”

  Glancing up into Lord Mowbray’s face, Julianna tried her best not to blush. “I was just wondering if he was to be in attendance this evening,” she admitted. “We have not spoken very often of late, and I find that I…” She trailed off, realising what she had been about to say.

  “You realise that you miss his company?” Lord Mowbray asked with a heavy sigh. “Yes, Miss Wade, I have come to realise that.”

  Despite her desire not to blush, Julianna felt her cheeks heat with colour, and she turned her head away just as the waltz came to an end. She was feeling remarkably better these last few days and had been able to enjoy more than just one dance, although none had been shared with Ingraham.

  “You need not be embarrassed,” Lord Mowbray said practically, as he bowed towards her before offering her his arm. “I had much the same conversation with Ingraham only this afternoon, although I fear that he may not be in attendance this evening because of it.”

  A trifle confused, Julianna looked up into Lord Mowbray’s face.

  “He does not consider himself worthy of you, my dear,” Lord Mowbray continued gently. “But whilst I consider him terribly foolish in this matter, I will not allow it to stand between us and what could be.”

  Julianna swallowed hard as she was led from the floor, all too aware of what Lord Mowbray meant. She was not disinclined towards marrying him, she realised, given that he was a good and kind man, but had she the choice in the matter, then she would have preferred to delay so that she might try to convince Ingraham that he was more than enough in her eyes.

  Unfortunately, given the fact that her uncle as well as Lord Faversham were most likely now nearing London in order to find her, she did not have that particular opportunity. Still, her heart broke at the thought of Ingraham choosing to step away from the happiness they could have shared, simply because he thought himself to be less than worthy.

  “I have made you sad,” Lord Mowbray murmured gently. “I am sorry for it, Miss Wade. I have tried to speak to Ingraham myself, I swear it to you, although you may have better luck than I, should it come to it.” He smiled at her as he let go of her arm, his eyes gentle. “However, I fear that delaying our engagement and, thereafter, our marriage may be worse for you, Miss Wade, and it is that which concerns me.”