Forever Winter

by Amber Daulton

  “And it will.” Camden stood and slowly approached her as she paced like a frantic tiger. “Only a few sets of clothes are packed for the honeymoon. Most of them are still in your armoire.” Which were to be later delivered to Beckinworth Manor as they honeymooned in Paris. “Choose a dress you haven’t worn in a while and do not tell me which. When you walk down the aisle, I will be surprised. I swear it.”

  Camden thumbed away her tears as she nodded. He knew Susanna had designed that damned wedding gown herself. Months of sketching and coloring, discussing details with a supposedly respected seamstress, were all wasted. She had been looking forward to this day for months. Years. He wanted nothing more than to strangle the seamstress for the mishap.

  As Susanna forced her wayward emotions under control, determination blanketing the sadness in her eyes, Camden kissed her hand, nodded respectfully to her mother and left the women’s company. Alone in the hall, a short, stressed laugh crawled up his throat and nearly strangled him. He swallowed hard. Even though the conversation went better than expected, his stomach still churned with anxiety. Something else was bound to go wrong.

  He could almost feel it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Camden assisted the baron with his daily business while Susanna and her mother spent the next few hours choosing a dress and matching accessories. He appreciated the time alone with the baron. He reminded him very much of his father.

  “Have a seat, my lord.” Lord Lorican offered Camden a chair as they returned to his study from the barn. The baron sat at his desk for several minutes and jotted down notes in various journals.

  Camden jostled the dying embers in the hearth with a poker before relaxing in the same leather chair as earlier. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, wondering which dress Susanna chose. As the smell of cigar smoke wafted through the air, Camden lifted his head and found Alban Lorican sitting across from him in his winged-back chair. When the baron offered a cigar, Camden shook his head. He only smoked when upset.

  “Susanna is my youngest daughter. She is most dear to me.” Lord Lorican glanced at a family portrait he had commissioned a few years ago that hung between two bookshelves. “She was never docile, like her sisters. She acted just like her brothers. The boys, however, never threatened to give me a heart attack.” He laughed and tunneled a hand through his dark hair. “I suppose I am to blame. When my last son left for Eton, I encouraged her hoyden ways by treating her as his replacement.”

  Camden smiled. “She always followed me around like a puppy when my parents and I visited Lorican Manor, or your family visited us. To tell you the truth, I thought of her as a pest. Back then, a difference of eight years in age felt like decades.” He tapped his fingers on the armrest in thought. “I never expected us to marry. Foolishly, I expected her to remain a child, innocent and without need of a husband, even though Susanna was nearly grown by the time I returned after my parents’ carriage accident.” And it wasn’t until last Christmas that he realized she was a woman, not a child, with a body that fulfilled his wildest dreams.

  “Really?” The baron’s eyes twinkled. “She was six when she first vowed to marry you. I believe her words were: ‘Even if I have to hogtie him and drag him to Greta Green. ’ ” He laughed again as surprise flushed Camden’s face red. “When you left for Eton—I think she was ten—she cursed you high and low for weeks. It was obvious to Marie and me—and your parents—that it was just a matter of time. And with her two disastrous London seasons, money wasted and reputations embarrassed, we counted on a proposal from you.”

  “Glad to be of service.” Camden grinned and stared at the portrait, completed when Susanna was about fifteen. Now twenty, the pesky little sister of his two best friends had grown into a lovely young woman. It warmed his heart to know his parents approved of his marriage.

  “Now, with old memories aside, you deserve a fair warning, Camden.” Lord Lorican sighed heavily and set his cigar aside in a bronze ashtray. “Obligation required me to warn my other future sons-in-law and now, even though my speech suited them far better than you, I still feel obligated.” He crossed his arms over his stomach and glowered at Camden. “Men are known to stray in relationships. For some, the act is natural.” The baron held up his hand as Camden started to protest. “Your private life is not my business, but you will no longer be welcomed in my home if you physically harm Susanna. You will no longer be my son. If the abuse is so bad that she files for divorce and the courts grant it, I will stand by her decision no matter the scandal. Divorce is rare and expensive, but does happen. Never think that it is not an option.” Air whizzed through his teeth in finality. “So treat her with care and respect.”

  The corners of Camden’s mouth quirked up in a small smile. “You have my word no harm will come to her. She will never want for anything. I’ve known her for too long, I love her too much, to act a fool.” He glanced down at his hands and stroked the finger that a gold wedding band would soon circle. “Susanna would be devastated if I took a mistress. She understands how society works—that it is acceptable—but she doesn’t agree with infidelity, and neither do I.”

  Lord Lorican nodded in approval and relaxed. “Another warning…” The baron glanced at the journals on his desk. “I believe I mentioned this a few months ago, but I am losing my best farm manager—my only manager, with this marriage. While the bride’s price was quite satisfactory, it doesn’t replace her skill.”

  Camden smirked while the baron’s eyes twinkled in mischief. Susanna had obviously inherited her mischievous trait from him. “True, but you agreed to my terms. With her dowry and business skills, I have gained substantially from this union.” Camden crossed his arms and flashed a smug smile, the legal business of the marriage contract finalized months before.

  Lorican shook his head in laughter. “Anyway, my boy, Susanna will undoubtedly stick her nose in the journals and logs for your cotton mill.”

  He nodded. “I look forward to her opinion and input.” He had no wish to restrict her business pursuits and need for knowledge. “If she is as great a manager as you claim, I’d be a fool not to take advantage of her skills.”

  Once the serious conversation ended, they sat in peaceful silence for several minutes until Camden excused himself. Finding Susanna and her mother in the holiday-themed tea room—and since the custom of not seeing the bride before the wedding was already broken—Lady Lorican invited him inside to join them for a light snack. Refusing the small pieces of remaining bread, he sat beside Susanna and commenced with idle chitchat until a nervous servant appeared at the doorway.

  The maid waited for the baroness to nod before she spoke. “Your presence is requested in the reception hall, milady.”

  “Very well.” Lady Lorican sighed and rose from her comfortable chair. “Jane, dear, I need you to remain as chaperone.”

  “As you wish.” Jane retreated to the farthest corner of the room once the baroness left to advise the other servants preparing the main reception hall—a large but stuffy hall with portraits of past relatives cluttering the walls.

  Camden arched a brow. She had chosen a chair behind the sofa along the far wall, out of sight of their faces and body language. With this semblance of privacy, he grasped Susanna’s hand as she idly toyed with the gloves she removed to enjoy the bread. Her gaze rose as she turned to face him. She batted her eyelashes.

  In the presence of a chaperone, typically a married woman like Jane or one of Susanna’s male family members, they acted coy and courteous. In the presence of her mother, however, the baroness allowed small liberties society typically scorned.

  After several minutes of polite conversation, Susanna finally laughed about the day’s mishaps. Reclining on a floral-print, cushioned sofa, she tilted her head and grinned at him. She squeezed his hand. “Nothing can truly ruin today.”

  His brow quirked. “What about an ill-timed snowstorm or a special dress?”

  She blushed. “Not even that, now that I’ve calmed down and a
ccepted it.” Susanna sighed and maneuvered free of his grip. She quickly fitted her gloves back on her hands and glanced away. “I apologize for earlier. I acted so childish when you said the dress couldn’t be delivered.” She met his gaze as shame darkened her blue irises. “If you thought I blamed you, please understand I did not. You were simply the messenger and I took out my frustrations on you. I’m—”

  He reclaimed her hand and she quieted. “No apologizes, Susanna.” Now that her gloves prohibited skin-to-skin contact in the presence of the chaperone, Camden brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

  He wanted to stroke her fine-boned jaw and trace her dark eyebrows with the pads of his fingers. He wanted to kiss her lips, neck and chest until she moaned in pleasure. They had slept together only once, just two months ago—a mistake neither regretted—but that one night barely sated him. In fact, he yearned for her more than before. Alas, that was his punishment for claiming her innocence before they were wed. His gaze burned with a fire that made her blush and her chest heave. He silently cursed and retracted his gaze. They were not alone. The chaperone might notice the sexual tension spiraling between them at any second and speak up. Even though she was a servant, Lady Lorican had given her the right and honor to protect Miss Susanna’s reputation at all costs, even from her fiancé on her wedding day.

  Camden considered Susanna to be a beautiful, charming and independent woman. Susanna, on the other hand, considered herself merely attractive and an unsuitable mate for most men. But he wasn’t most men. He appreciated her bluestocking passion for literature, art and science. He encouraged and challenged her at every opportunity. She was his equal. He wanted nothing less.

  Camden suddenly shot to his feet as gruff, boisterous shouting ricocheted throughout the manor. Susanna clutched her pounding chest. “Wait,” Camden ordered as she tried to rise. “Stay here.”

  Camden and their chaperone hurried to the door. Three burly men caked in snow carried an unconscious man down the hall, while several servants gossiped from the doorway of a storage room. Jane barked commands to the women and they hurried to obey Lady Lorican’s personal maid. She left the couple, albeit hesitantly, to find the baroness. Camden followed the snow-clad men, demanding answers, as Susanna rushed to his side and gasped.

  “Reverend Chauncey , milord,” one of the tired workers explained as he shifted his grasp on the reverend. “His horse lost its footing on a patch of ice. The reverend hit his head.” They reached the baron’s study just as Lord Lorican rushed toward them from another part of the manor. The baron quickly waved Susanna and Camden away as the men lay the injured man on a large, comfortable sofa.

  Camden pulled Susanna back down the hall as tears filled her eyes. Escorting her back to the tea room, he left the door wide open since their chaperone had left. Lady Lorican would undoubtedly be furious with Jane.

  He didn’t know what to say. What the hell was going on? Today, of all days! It seemed as though the entire world turned against them: snow everywhere, no gown, an injured reverend—who he prayed would be fine. Nothing seemed to go right.

  As Susanna retreated to the sofa and wrapped her arms around her stomach, he clenched his fists behind his back. This was their wedding day! She should be glowing and excited, not crying and stressed over a situation she had no control over.

  But fate obviously had other plans, their happiness be damned.

  ****

  Susanna trembled as sobs clogged her throat. Camden rushed to her side and wrapped his arms around her. His lips brushed across her forehead. His touch was too intimate but she didn’t have the strength or desire to pull away.

  “Breathe,” he instructed. “There’s more than one man of the cloth in Derby, in your family’s parish. Another will be fetched.”

  Susanna shook her head and then fisted her hands in his frilled shirt and striped waistcoat, crying as if the world had tumbled down on top of her. He held her close for several minutes, murmuring sweet words in her ear. She finally glanced up, her eyes red and puffy, and swallowed hard to find her voice. “Reverend Chauncey’s horse slipped on ice, so I doubt the road is travelable. I don’t want anyone else injured on our account.”

  He nodded. “I love you, Susanna Lorican. Nothing will change that.” He clasped her tear-stained cheek in his palm. “Stay strong for me. We will get through this.”

  Guilt overwhelmed her. Susanna squeezed her eyes shut and pried herself from his arms. She needed space and time to think. As he tried to hold her hand, she shifted from his grasp and scooted as far back on the sofa as possible. Tears leaked from her eyelids. “It’s all my fault.” She stared up at Camden as another sob clogged her throat. She felt so unworthy. Foolish. She clutched her hands in her skirts and forced down the sob. “I’m sorry. What was I thinking? A winter wedding? I must be insane.”

  She stood in frustration and paced about the spacious, richly decorated room. Evergreen garlands intertwined with rosemary, ivy and holly hung from every corner and looped across the walls. Red and white candles decorated with ivy and ribbons adorned the fireplace mantel. Small white votives and decorative wreaths adorned the windows for the Advent season.

  The entire house was decorated for the holiday and Susanna realized she had been nothing but a fool. Her dear father had canceled his annual party. The servants were busy preparing for her wedding, surely stressed with all the changes, when they should be spending as much time as possible with their children. And the children! Oh Lord, why hadn’t she thought of them? There were at least a dozen, all under ten, living in the household. Plum pudding, gifts and Father Christmas should be the only things on their minds. She had stolen Christmas from them with her blasted wedding! How could she do something so terrible?

  And now the reverend was injured. Several wedding guests might be trapped in the storm or stranded in nearby towns, or injured and alone on the road. Only a small number of guests arrived yesterday evening, prior to clouds darkening the sky.

  Tears cascaded down her face. She never thought of herself as a selfish person. She just didn’t realize her wants overshadowed others.

  She needed to find her parents, postpone the whole affair and focus on Christmas for the children. But with preparations already underway and guests due to arrive before noon—if they could—everything already accomplished today would be in vain.

  Susanna hated acting like a helpless ninny. She was stronger than that. Wiping away her tears and breathing heavily to calm her nerves, she refused to let wayward emotions control her. Even though her special day burdened everyone, nothing could mend her terrible mistake. Everyone just needed to trudge on and get through the day.

  She met Camden’s concerned gaze. He tried for months to convince her to wait for spring, but she wouldn’t listen. Last Christmas had been magical, life-altering. The anniversary of their first kiss. Even though she was so startled by it that she slapped him, that single kiss swirled emotions and needs inside her she didn’t realize existed. She quickly fell head over heels for Lord Camden Beckinworth and wanted to commemorate that special moment by pledging their love on the anniversary.

  Even though she was ashamed of her actions, she couldn’t lie to him when he asked what was wrong. He knew her so well. He knew, somehow, that something more than just a chaotic wedding day caused the cascade of tears down her face. She explained everything—how she felt and what she’d done wrong.

  When sweet Camden wrapped his arms around her, Susanna collapsed in a heap of tears. He cradled her close, protectively, but didn’t deny the facts to appease her guilt. She was grateful. She needed to bear the shame and frustration. It was hers to hold and he respected her enough to let her work through it. But she wasn’t alone. His embrace proved it.

  Susanna sniffled against his shoulder and lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I—I planned the perfect wedding but never figured anything might go wrong. I never thought of anyone but myself.” She lowered her gaze in shame. “I would change everything if I co
uld, but now it’s too late. Too much is already underway.” She sighed and rested her forehead on his chest. “I didn’t think of the little moppets, and it barely snowed last year. I just assumed this year would be the same.” She gritted her teeth and pulled back from Camden’s soothing embrace. She wrapped her arms around her churning stomach and paced again.

  As Camden clenched his fists behind his back, Susanna berated herself for upsetting him. He tried so hard to be patient and she knew he needed to hold her. Every fiber in his body probably urged him to snatch her arm, pin her against his chest and kiss her until she melted in a puddle at his feet. If it weren’t for the dreaded gossip if someone walked in on them, she wished he would.

  “You were right.” Susanna rubbed at her aching temples. “Mama was right. I’m such a fool. I never listen to reason. A spring wedding would have been wonderful.” She easily imagined colorful wildflowers, green meadows and a cloudless blue sky. “Still, with my luck, these catastrophes would have happened regardless.”

  “No, love.” Camden laughed softly. “Something bad can always happen. Rain, wind… anything. The dress still might have been late. It might even have been stolen by highwaymen on the way here from London. The reverend still could’ve fallen from his horse on a solid, dry road. Anything could happen.”

  Susanna nodded. She still wouldn’t look at him.

  Camden stomped toward her and grabbed both her arms, forcing the end of her frantic pace across the gleaming hardwood floor. “Susanna, listen to me.” He squeezed her arms harder until her wet gaze met his. He relaxed his grip. “The children are having a wonderful time. I’ve seen many of them run through the manor, laughing with excitement. They’re more than excited for tomorrow—Christmas comes once a year, but a wedding is even rarer. They love you. Don’t you know that?” He sighed as she ducked her head into the crook of his shoulder and neck. Billowing chestnut hair tickled his nose and her sweet, feminine scent filled his nostrils. He glanced toward the open doorway, ever wary of unwanted visitors, but circled his arms around her anyway. If he was smart, he wouldn’t touch her at all. Better still, he should leave the room so a chaperone wouldn’t be needed. As it was, he couldn’t leave her so depressed and guilt-ridden. “They’ve never been to a wedding before. The lads and lasses are sad you’re leaving, but excited for our celebration.”