Natalie's Christmas Rogue

by Jillian Eaton

  “What have you done?” James’ growled huskily into his wife’s ear as he looped his arm around her waist and drew her back into a private enclave. Before she could answer he spun her around to face him and claimed her lips in a long, slow kiss that left her weak in the knees and yearning for more.

  Four years married, she thought with a delicious shiver, and every time he kisses me it feels like our wedding night all over again.

  “Well?” James prompted, sitting back on his heels and canting his head to the side. A large man with distinguished features and dark hair that was beginning to gray at the temples, he never ceased to take Lily’s breath away. While their courtship had been unconventional – a good a word as any to describe the tumultuous affair – she couldn’t imagine herself with anyone else. James may have been a grumpy, cantankerous ex-soldier with only one arm…but he was her grumpy, cantankerous ex-solider with only one arm and she wouldn’t change a single thing about him.

  “What makes you think I’ve done anything?” she said coyly, arching a brow.

  James snorted. “Is the sky blue?”

  “Well, at the moment I’d say it’s more black than anything else.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You know what I meant.”

  Of course she had, but she did so love to antagonize him. “I haven’t done anything other give your sister a little encouragement.”

  “Encouragement to do what?” he said suspiciously.

  “To dance with a handsome stranger.”

  “Lily.”

  “She needs this, James.” Placing a restraining hand on her husband’s chest when he would have marched past her in search of his sister, Lily gazed beseechingly into his eyes. “You know it as well as I. Why do you think she continues coming to these balls, if not to dance? She wants to feel ordinary, James.”

  “But she isn’t ordinary.” His jaw clenched. “You know what happened to her.”

  Yes, Lily did know. And her heart always broke a little when she thought of the night Natalie had told her. But she also knew that if Natalie kept allowing the past to define her present, it would ruin her future.

  “She cannot remain a wallflower forever,” she said firmly. “Some women can, but not our Natalie. She needs to find her wings, and we need to let her look for them.”

  “But what if she falls?” he said, his gaze troubled as he searched for his sister over Lily’s shoulder.

  “Oh, James.” Taking her husband’s hand, she squeezed his fingers until he looked down at her. “What if she flies?”

  Chapter Three

  Natalie made it all the way to the tree in the middle of the ballroom before she lost her nerve. Heart pounding, pulse racing, she cowered behind a large evergreen bough covered in silver bells, flickering candles, and small presents wrapped with twine.

  What had she been thinking? She couldn’t dance. Especially with a man she didn’t know, regardless of how charming his smile was. Or how brown his eyes. Or how–

  Stop it, she told herself fiercely.

  Stop thinking about him.

  Far easier to think than do…especially when the person she was trying not to think about suddenly materialized in front of her as if plucked out of thin air.

  “There you are,” he said, his smile every bit as charming as she remembered. “The prettiest present under a tree I’ve ever seen.”

  “I…I…” Before, by the terrace doors, she’d had time to prepare herself. Time to think about what she would say and how she would say it. Now, caught completely off guard, she couldn’t manage more than a one-syllable stutter. “I…I…”

  “At a loss for words?” He winked at her. “I’ve been told I have that effect on women.”

  “Arrogant,” Natalie managed.

  “Come again?” he said, his brow creasing.

  “You’re arrogant, Lord…”

  “Souderton. Lord Benjamin Hawthorne, Earl of Souderton.” Looking vaguely perplexed that she hadn’t yet thrown herself at his feet or forced him to dance as Heather had done, he rubbed his chin, fingers scraping against dark bristle. “It is a pleasure to properly meet you, Miss Rigby.”

  Short pine needles poked Natalie through her gown as she backed further into the tree. Part of her wished it would simply swallow her up into its fragrant boughs, while another part – one she hardly recognized – wanted to keep talking to Lord Souderton. Even if he was a touch arrogant.

  “How do you know who I am?” she asked.

  “Your friend told me while I was being held captive.” Wincing, he rubbed his left arm where Heather’s fingerprints were still visible in the lines of his jacket. “She has quite the grip.”

  Natalie’s lips twitched. “Lady Dresher can be very tenacious.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  They were both quiet for a moment, but to Natalie’s surprise it was not the sort of quiet that strained the air but rather one that brought comfort, the kind that came from drinking a cup of hot tea after a long rainy day. Lord Souderton smiled at her and without thinking she smiled back, the corners of her eyes crinkling ever-so-slightly.

  “Dance with me,” he said quietly, and this time she accepted the offer with a small nod.

  And why not? She asked herself as they walked around to the other side of the tree, her arm lightly draped over his. A dance is just a dance, after all.

  Determined to keep her anxiety at bay long enough to enjoy the waltz, she lifted her chin and glided effortlessly beside Lord Souderton as he led her to a less crowded area of the ballroom. It had been a long time since she’d danced with anyone except her brother and her tutor, but if Lord Souderton noticed how stiff she was he made no mention of it.

  Flinching only slightly when his large hand cupped her ribcage, she touched his shoulder and then they were off, swirling across the marble tile as if they’d danced together a hundred times.

  She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until her chest began to ache, and with a tiny gasp she released the air in her lungs and her anxiety along with it.

  She was dancing. With a stranger. No, not a stranger. Lord Benjamin Hawthorne, Earl of Souderton. She was dancing with an earl, and he was dancing with her, and she felt so giddy it was a wonder her feet did not float right up into the air.

  “Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his gaze dipping to the rosy flush spreading rapidly across her cheeks.

  “Oh yes,” she breathed. “Very much.”

  His grip tightened. “Good. Do you know, Miss Rigby, it occurs to me that I know nothing about you.”

  “What – what would you like to know?” she asked warily.

  “Your favorite color, to begin with. Then we can move on to how many children you would like to have.”

  Natalie’s mouth dropped open. “How many children…?”

  “It was a jest, Miss Rigby.” His warm brown eyes smiled down at her as they executed a simple spin. “I would never dare ask such a personal question of a lady. Unless your answer is more than three, in which case I fear I’ve suddenly sprained my ankle and must beg off.”

  He was joking with her. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had joked with her. Maybe Lily, but then everything was a crack to her lively sister-in-law. James saw her as too fragile to jest with. A brittle porcelain doll that would shatter at the first indelicate prod. It had only gotten worse since she’d told him the truth about their uncle and what he’d done. Sometimes she caught her brother watching her as if she were a piece of cracked glass and he was just waiting to pick up the pieces when she finally broke.

  But Lord Souderton did not look at her as if she was half-broken. He did not hold her as if she might crumble to dust at any moment. He did not treat her as if she was something to be handled with care.

  “Have you ever been in the woods at sunset?” she asked.

  His head canted to the side. “A time or two.”

  “For a while everything looks at it always did, and then it begins to get a little darker as the
shadows move in. But there’s a moment. A moment between light and dark when the sun glimmers down through the leaves and the entire forest seems to glow.” She hesitated. “That is my favorite color.”

  Lord Souderton gazed down at her with such intensity that she looked away, her face flushing a deep, dull red when she realized the absurdity of what she’d just said.

  “I’m sorry, I did not mean to–”

  “Do you know,” he said huskily, “I believe I have a new favorite color.”

  Biting the inside of her cheek, she looked up from the floor. Lord Souderton had moved them closer together so that their chests were nearly touching. She could see the steady throb of his pulse at the base of his neck, smell the subtle hints of sandalwood he’d rubbed there. Had she put on perfume? Suddenly she couldn’t remember. Time as she knew it had stopped when she took Lord Souderton’s arm. Everything before their dance felt blurred and out of focus, everything after it a small eternity away.

  “Lady Dresher told me you have a brother who fought in the war.”

  One step. Two step. Turn to the left.

  The steps of the waltz were fast-paced and intricate, which was why couples generally did not engage in conversation while performing it. Natalie had been afraid she wouldn’t remember all of the movements, but she needn’t have worried. Lord Souderton was an excellent partner. In more ways than one, she suspected, and her face flushed all over again when her thoughts drifted in a direction that was decidedly naughty. Thankfully, Lord Souderton did not seem to notice.

  “James,” she managed once the heat had receded from her cheeks. “He’s several years older than I. Our parents passed when we were young.”

  “Were you placed in an orphanage?” Lord Souderton asked, frowning.

  “No.” But how I wish we had been. An orphanage would have been far preferable to the living hell she’d endured at her Aunt’s house. “I went to live with family, and James went off to war.”

  “You must have missed him. I only have one sibling as well, a little brat of a sister, but I could not imagine being parted from her.” His mouth twisted in a wry grin. “Speaking of which, if you see a blonde-haired girl trying to sneak out of the estate with a small menagerie in tow, please let me know.”

  Natalie’s brow creased. “I’m sorry?”

  “My sister, Sophia, has a…penchant for animals,” he explained. “You might even call it an obsession. She’s never met a single creature that she has not immediately wanted to bring home, regardless of its size or whether it is, indeed, truly homeless.” He rolled his eyes. “Last month she brought a donkey into the parlor. The damn thing tried to eat the curtains.”

  Natalie bit back a smile. “What happened?”

  “To the donkey or Sophia?”

  “Both, I suppose.”

  “I returned the donkey to auction where I’m sure it found its way to a very nice farm and Sophia went off in search of another animal in need of rescuing.”

  She liked the earl’s tone when he spoke of his sister. Although tinged with exasperation, it also contained unmistakable warmth and affection. While most men – especially those fully grown – considered their female siblings to be a burden, it was clear that Lord Souderton held his sister in the highest regard.

  “I should very much like to meet Lady Sophia,” she said.

  Lord Souderton smiled. “I should very much like that as well.”

  They’d nearly finished a full turn around the ballroom. The waltz required the exchange of partners, but when it came time for Natalie to spin into the arms of another man Lord Souderton refused to give her up, raising more than a few eyebrows – including Natalie’s.

  “I am afraid you’ve missed a step,” she said hesitantly as they swirled towards a series of ice sculptures that had been carved to resemble various mythical beasts.

  “No, I don’t think I have.” The air around the ice sculptures may have been cold, but Lord Souderton’s stare was becoming exceedingly hot, warming her from the inside out. “Why haven’t we met before? This is not your debut.”

  Natalie shook her head. “No. This is my fourth Season. I…” How to explain, she wondered? She couldn’t tell him about her attacks, or the reason behind them. But she was stunned to realize that she wanted to. It had taken her nearly seventeen years to confess her shameful secret to James, and here she was ready to tell a man she’d only just met.

  It was his eyes, she decided as they circled around a unicorn. They did not stare past her, or over her, but into her. As if he was seeing not just her face, but her very soul. No one had ever looked at her like that before. It made her feel special. More importantly, it made her feel wanted.

  “I’m afraid that I am a bit of a wallflower,” she said, nibbling anxiously on her bottom lip. “This is the first time I’ve danced at a ball in…well, to be quite honest this is the first time I’ve ever danced at a ball.”

  She braced herself, waiting for questions she didn’t know how to answer or, worse yet, those brandy eyes to fill with mocking pity. But she needn’t have worried.

  “I guess this is my lucky night, then. Although you know what they say about Christmas Eve.”

  “What?” she whispered, utterly captivated by his warm, knowing gaze.

  He leaned in close and she trembled when his breath tickled the sensitive shell of her ear. “It’s a time for miracles.”

  Chapter Four

  Ben couldn’t believe his good fortune. One moment he’d been drowning himself in weak champagne and plotting his escape to the nearest gaming hell (after he found Sophia, who was still missing and undoubtedly figuring out the best way to sneak a baby elephant or some other sort of exotic creature back to their house), the next he was dancing with a beautiful angel who had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Blue eyes framed with lush ebony lashes set above high cheekbones and a full mouth that was far too serious.

  Thus far he’d managed to coax one smile out of those pretty pink lips, but he could still feel the tension in her slender arms. See it in the steely set of her delicate jaw. Sense it in the way her gaze met his and then skittered away.

  Miss Natalie Rigby was afraid.

  No, she was terrified.

  He wanted to find out what she was so frightened of, but he knew better than to ask. He also knew better than to hand her off to some foppish dandy who wouldn’t take care with her, which was why he selfishly kept him to herself. Well, that and he simply did not want to let her go.

  Ever.

  Ben believed in three things above all else: family, a good brandy, and fate.

  Thirty-two years ago on a snowy evening just like this, the Marquess of Souderton had stepped out of his carriage and nearly knocked a tiny brunette off her feet. Unbeknownst to either one of them at the time, they would go on to marry and have two children, Benjamin and Sophia.

  Their initial meeting had been pure fate. The marquess had been early for a private engagement and had told his driver to circle round the block. Ben’s mother had been running late for a recital and hadn’t been looking where she was going. If either one of them had been a minute earlier, or a minute later, their paths might never have crossed. But because fate had chosen to intervene, they’d bumped into each other in the glittering snow and it had been love at first sight for the marquess and his soon-to-be-wife.

  Having grown up listening to the story of how his parents had met, as well as seeing the love they felt for each other with his own eyes, Ben had no doubt they’d been destined to fall for one another. Just as he was falling for Miss Natalie Rigby.

  He felt it in his bones. In his heart.

  In his very soul.

  “Dance with me again,” he said when the last strains of the waltz faded away.

  Startled eyes peered up at him beneath a curtain of dark lashes. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly.”

  “Why not?” All around them couples were bowing and curtsying to one another before they split apart to indulge in a fresh glass of champagne or f
ind their next partner. Ben kept one hand on the subtle curve of Natalie’s hip, the other on the small of her back in an embrace that was just shy of indecent. If she tried to pull away he would have let her go in an instant, but she didn’t. And somehow he knew that she wouldn’t. The same way he knew he had been destined to walk towards the terrace doors and she’d been destined to be standing in front of them.

  Fate, he thought silently. Fate and Christmas.

  If there was a more perfect pairing, he should like very much to know what it was.

  “Why not?” she echoed. “Because – because people will talk.”

  “This is the first time you’ve danced at a ball in four Seasons,” he reminded her. “People are already talking. Why not give them a real reason? Dance with me, Miss Rigby. Just once more.”

  “Why do I have a feeling we will be having this same exact conversation after the next waltz?” she said suspiciously.

  Ben grinned. “Beautiful and perceptive. Where have you been all my life?”

  “Hiding,” she confessed softly. “I’ve been hiding.” Her chin lifted. “But I do not want to hide anymore. I – I cannot explain, Lord Hawthorne, but it feels as if we’ve–”

  “–known each other forever?” he finished, carefully watching her reaction. When her cheeks flushed and she gave a small, hesitant nod, it was all he could do not to kiss her then and there.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Precisely. Is that foolish?”

  “If it is, then I’m happy to be a fool.” The quartet of musicians, having taken a few minutes to rest, gathered their instruments and began to play. Ben stepped back and bowed. “May I have this dance, Miss Rigby?”

  Following his lead, she swept her skirts to the side and dipped into an elegant curtsy. “Indeed you may, Lord Souderton.”

  For this dance they spoke nary a word, content to simply drink in the sight of one another as they swirled around the ballroom in perfect harmony. Twice Ben felt a sharp prickling at the nape of his neck, the sort that came from a pair of eyes, and both times he glanced over his shoulder to discover a dark-haired man scowling at him while a petite brunette poked him in the arm, her expression clearly one of exasperation.