Natalie's Christmas Rogue

by Jillian Eaton

  “Your brother, I presume?” he asked, nodding towards the man. Following the direction of his stare, Natalie sighed.

  “Yes, that’s James and his wife, Lily. They’re very protective of me, James in particular.”

  “As any good brother should be.”

  “I suppose,” Natalie said, although she did not sound pleased. “Sometimes it feels more like smothering than protecting.”

  “That would explain the dagger sharp looks being drilled into my back,” Ben said dryly. “Your brother is not in the habit of carrying a pistol with him, is he?”

  “No, not that I am aware of.” She pressed her lips together. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I plan on absconding with you out onto the terrace after this dance is over, and I don’t fancy digging a lead bullet out of my leg later.”

  “Oh, you needn’t worry about that,” said Natalie, blue eyes wide and guileless. “If James shoots you, you would not need to dig anything out as you’d be quite deceased.”

  “Why Miss Rigby,” Ben drawled. “Have you made a joke?”

  Looking inordinately pleased with herself, Natalie nodded. “I – I think I have.”

  His gaze dipped to her mouth as she smiled. It wasn’t the hesitant, nervous smile she’d given him earlier but a genuine grin, one that crinkled the corners of her eyes and revealed a small dimple in her right cheek.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured. He looked up to discover those quiet blue eyes studying him with an uncertainty that tugged at his heart. Again he wanted to ask what had happened to her to make her as wary as a filly about to be bridled for the first time, but he was careful to hold his tongue. There were some things that could not be asked, only answered. When she felt ready she would tell him about the ghosts that haunted her past. He’d never considered himself a patient man, but he knew he’d be able to wait until she trusted him enough to reveal her painful secrets. After all, he had waited thirty-one years for her. And every breath taken, every road traveled, every mistake and lesson learned along the way, had all been worth it because it had brought him here, to this night. To this ball.

  To Natalie.

  Was it fate or lunacy, he wondered as they spun in a circle, that made it impossible for him to picture his life without her? An hour ago he hadn’t known the sound of her voice, the shape of her smile, the smell of her hair. He hadn’t even known her name. And now…now he wanted to know everything about her.

  A bit of both, he decided as the music swelled and then trickled away.

  “The terrace for a breath of fresh air?” he asked.

  White teeth sinking into her plump bottom lip, she looked quickly around. “I…I suppose. Are there other guests out there? We – we won’t be alone, will we?”

  “No, we will not be alone.” His brow furrowed. “I would never take advantage of you, Miss Rigby.”

  But someone had, he thought angrily when he saw the uncertainty in her eyes. Someone had hurt her, and if he ever found out who it was they would not be long for this world.

  He gently squeezed her wrist before putting both hands behind his back, the very picture of a well-mannered gentleman. “If you’d prefer to return to your brother, I can assure you that my heart will not be broken. Bruised, perhaps,” he admitted with a roguish grin. “But not broken. The decision is entirely yours.”

  “I…no,” she muttered, glancing down at her feet and shaking her head with such vehemence that a dark auburn curl sprang free from her coiffure and kissed the top of her shoulder. She lifted her chin, and the fierce spark in her gaze stunned Ben into speechlessness.

  A light glowed from within her, one that had been dim for far too long and was now eager to shine. Gone was the meek, timid wallflower. In her place stood a warrior. An amazon. A young queen without equal.

  Beautiful?

  Natalie wasn’t beautiful.

  She was breathtaking.

  “No, I think I have hidden long enough.” Squaring her shoulders she started for the terrace doors, only to stop midway and look back at him. “Well?” she asked, lifting a brow. “Are you coming or not?”

  Chapter Five

  Lord Souderton was right. Christmas Eve was a time for miracles. And Natalie had just found hers.

  She’d always assumed miracles were great, grand spectacles.

  Walking on water.

  The parting of the Red Sea.

  Turning water into wine.

  But a miracle did not have to be large to be meaningful. It did not have to impress the masses or be recorded in the bible. A miracle could be small. A miracle could be quiet. A miracle could be nothing to one person, and everything to another.

  Natalie’s miracle was the realization that she did not have to be afraid. Not of Lord Souderton. Not of the dozens of other male guests. Not even of her uncle or the horrible memories she’d done her best to forget.

  She could be afraid of them, and sometimes she very well would be. But she did not have to be. Not if she didn’t want to. And that…that was a miracle.

  Her second miracle came when Lord Souderton joined her out on the terrace. Soft light emanated through the glass doors, illuminating the handsome lines of his countenance as he strode towards her. Other couples had sought a respite in the cool air as well, and the flicker of frustration she saw on his face when a doddering old dowager stepped directly into his path made her bite the inside of her cheek to contain a giggle.

  He politely waited for the dowager to move aside, exchanging a courteous word before he continued on to Natalie who stood waiting for him by the edge of the stone steps, her back to the railing and her hands folded neatly together.

  “Hello,” she murmured, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she tilted her head back and gazed up at him. Behind his head she could just glimpse the glittering Christmas tree. A rather odd sight, to see a tree inside a ballroom. But one that had become increasingly popular ever since Queen Victoria had brought the tradition to England from her husband’s native Germany.

  “Hello,” Lord Souderton returned huskily, reaching out to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed against her cheek and Natalie froze, blue eyes wide as saucers. Not because she was on the verge of an attack…but because she wasn’t.

  Her heart…it wasn’t pounding.

  Her pulse…it wasn’t racing.

  Her chest…it wasn’t tight.

  “Are you alright?” Lord Souderton asked, looking down at her in concern.

  “Yes,” Natalie said, her voice filled with wonder. “Yes, I – I think I am.”

  She didn’t know if it was the ball. She didn’t know if it was the holiday. She didn’t know if it was Lord Souderton. All she knew was that, for the first time in a very long time, she felt free from the demons of her past.

  Natalie had no way of knowing if the feeling would last. She suspected it wouldn’t. Demons were sneaky creatures, and one night was not enough to quell their icy whispers.

  But it was a start.

  “Thank you,” she told Lord Souderton simply.

  “For what?” he queried.

  “For asking me to dance. For being so kind. For – for seeing me. Not many people do. When you’re a wallflower long enough, you start to become part of the wall. But you saw me.”

  “I saw a lonely woman with sad blue eyes and a gentle heart.” He went to place his hand on her waist, only to stop and back up a step when she visibly flinched. His brow folded over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean–”

  “It isn’t you,” she said hastily. “Something…something horrible happened to me when I was a young girl and...I…” She hesitated, not sure how to continue, and was relieved when Lord Souderton shook his head.

  “You don’t have to tell me tonight. Or tomorrow, or the next day. When you’re ready, I’ll be there.”

  “What about five years from now?” She meant it as a jest to lighten the mood and her heart stumbled when Lord Souderton nodded.

  “
I’ll be there,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Ten years?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Twenty?” she whispered.

  “I’ll be there.” Humor bracketed the sides of his mouth. “Although perhaps I’d best start by asking for your permission to call on you tomorrow.”

  “But…” She looked down at her hands. Up at his face. “Tomorrow is Christmas.”

  “I can think of no better present than seeing your beautiful face.”

  Natalie’s smile unfurled slowly, like a flower rising from the frozen soil after a long, cold winter. “Yes, Lord Souderton. You have my permission to call on me.”

  It was not a happily-ever-after. Lord Souderton had not proposed marriage or asked James for her hand. Instead, he’d given her something even more precious. Something she’d been quietly dreaming about for as long as she could remember. Something she’d begun to fear she would never have.

  A beginning.

  He had given her a beginning…and she was going to take it.

  About the Author

  Jillian grew up on a large farm in Maine and now lives on a small farm in Pennsylvania with her husband, their toddler, and their newborn twins – all boys. They have one dog, a rescue named Jett, and plan on getting chickens in the spring.

  Read on for a sneak peek at Jillian’s next release, The Winter Duke – available for preorder now!

  The Winter Duke

  After being rebuffed by her betrothed, Cadence flees to her brother-in-law’s remote estate in the English countryside to escape the humiliation of getting left at the altar. With Christmas rapidly approaching, Cadence intends to spend the holidays locked in her room with chocolate. Fortunately for her, the Duke of Colebrook has other ideas…

  Renowned throughout London for his long string of lovers, Justin Dearborn, Duke of Colebrook, isn’t looking for a wife. Having been spurned once, he has no intention of putting his heart on the line a second time. Until one passionate kiss with Cadence leaves them both yearning for more…

  With Christmas right around the corner, can two wounded hearts find the courage to love again? Or is this one affair that won’t make it to the New Year? Found out in The Winter Duke, the first novella in a brand new series by best-selling author Jillian Eaton!

  Sneak Peek

  Cadence watched wistfully as her sister and new husband rolled down the long drive and out of sight. She was happy for Hannah, but she couldn’t help but feel a touch envious as well. A perfectly understandable emotion, she supposed, given the circumstances.

  Lingering at the window for a few more minutes, she finally turned and headed for the stairs. Truth be told she didn’t know how she was going to occupy her time over the next two weeks; all she knew was that it was better to be here than in London. Wycliffe Manor may have been in the middle of nowhere, but that was what made it so appealing: she was far, far away from the mocking whispers of her peers.

  “Going back to your room to mope about and eat more chocolate?” a masculine voice drawled as she passed by the parlor. Cadence stopped and looked in through the open doorway. There, draped lengthwise across a chaise lounge and looking every inch the wicked, rakish scoundrel that he was, laid the Duke of Colebrook.

  Drats. She’s completely forgotten he would be staying here as well; the renovations on his estate having not yet been completed. For a moment she considered chasing after the newlywed’s carriage before she dismissed the idea as folly. For one thing, she’d never catch it. For another, the estate was large enough for two people to avoid each other if they wanted to. And she dearly, dearly wanted to.

  There was just something about Colebrook that got under her skin, like a splinter she couldn’t quite reach. Every time she tried to yank the splinter out it embedded itself even further and she was left grinding her teeth in frustration, wondering if she’d ever be able to remove it.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” she said crossly.

  Chuckling under his breath, Colebrook sat up. “Poor Miss Fairchild. Ever the brokenhearted damsel in distress. Do you know the best way to get over someone you used to love?” he asked.

  Ignore him, Cadence ordered herself. Ignore him and keep walking.

  “What is that?” she said with a jaunty toss of her head.

  “Kiss someone you don’t.” His smirking grin fading as he stared at her with eyes that were dark with lust and some other emotion she couldn’t quite decipher, he slowly uncoiled his lanky frame and stood up. “Come in and close the door, Cadence.”

  Cadence wasn’t naïve. She knew what would happen if she did as he asked. Just as she knew there were a hundred – no, a thousand – reasons why she shouldn’t.

  She swallowed.

  Hard.

  And then she walked into the parlor…and closed the door.