Her lovely time here with Estelle would be ruined. She could only guess what Mr. Bexley would say to housing one of his lordship's castoffs in his house. And Lady Bahumburgh would likely be overcome by the vapors, or some such disaster. Carole's head was spinning from all the potential discomfort that would come from the revelation of their actions last night.
Sadly, Estelle had no idea what harm she was causing by persisting with her games.
"So tell us your reasons, Miser. Why on earth could you possibly be against finding a husband for Miss Meriwether amongst all your friends?"
He laid his hands flat on the table and took a deep breath. Good heavens, but he was going to speak! Oh, she couldn't hear this. She couldn't bear to sit here and watch as their faces turned against her, as her hopes for a bright future were ruined, as surely as she was.
But he did speak and she did hear it.
"Because something happened while we were traveling," he announced, loudly and clearly.
No! She wouldn't put herself through more of this. Carole leapt to her feet and pushed back her chair. She met Estelle's look of surprise, but refused to see anything more than that. Not that she could have if she'd tried. Tears were blurring her vision. She needed to be away from here.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so very, very sorry."
And somehow she managed to dash out the door without stumbling into anything. If only she had a clue how to find her way back to her room in this enormous labyrinth of a house. Her feet continued running, though. Anywhere away from those eyes... those shocked, pitying eyes as the earl told his family how she fell so easily into his arms and behaved as any common bit o'muslin would have done.
Maybe in all honesty her body hadn't been ruined, but there was no denying that her heart certainly was.
Chapter 12
"What exactly did you do to that girl, Bahumburgh?" his mother asked.
His sister showed a distinct lack of compassion and merely shrugged. "It appears she would rather rush off crying to her rooms than hear anything you have to say, Brother. Why is that?"
"I... she... it has been a taxing two days and I can't imagine all your mutton-headed prattle about finding her a husband has made her particularly comfortable here," he snarled at his family.
Blast them all! He was only too well aware what he himself had done to upset Miss Meriwether, but the last thing she needed was Estelle's misguided teasing. His sister should have known better. Now he was just that much farther away from convincing the woman to forgive him and view him as something other than a monster.
"Perhaps, Miser, this time you should go after her and apologize," Estelle suggested.
Their mother cocked an eyebrow at him. "Apologize? This time? Whatever have you done?"
Myserleigh rose to his feet. "I've fallen in love with her, Mother. That's what I've done; that's what has happened. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find her and apologize for the lot of us."
He left them to rattle on in scandalized whispers as he went in search of Miss Meriwether. It didn't take long. On his way toward the main staircase he overheard her heart-wrenching sobs coming from the blue drawing room. She was there, in front of the many paned window amongst all of the greenery, weeping as if her heart was broken in a hundred pieces and could never be mended.
He would have given everything that he owned if he might have seen a smile when she heard him come up beside her, but there was none. She turned from him, trying to hide her tear-stained face and acting as if she expected nothing but further aggravation from him. Every instinct told him to touch her, but he managed to keep his arms at his sides. Since he knew he could not be trusted when it came to putting his hands on Miss Meriwether, it was best if he did not. For now.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Still no smile, but she did give a rueful little laugh. "You're not the one who ruined Christmas dinner by running out of the room like a crazy person."
"No, but I'm the one who growled at my family and stormed from the table like a crazy person. I very nearly mowed down two unsuspecting servants and one unlucky pot of ivy that should have been placed in a far more secure location."
Ah ha, was that the hint of a smile? He prayed that it was.
"I empathize with the ivy," she said.
"Do you? Is that how you feel, that I've trampled over you and broken your pot?"
Finally she turned to look at him. "I'm a bit sturdier than a plant, sir. I'll find some way to come through this. You needn't growl at anyone on my behalf. Mr. and Mrs. Bexley are kindhearted people. I'm sure Estelle won't put me out on the street on Christmas Day."
"What? Of course no one will do that. Why should you even think it?"
"You told them what happened, didn't you?"
"Er, yes..."
"Then surely they can't in good conscience open their home to me," she said, though it made no sense at all to him. "You heard Estelle. She had visions of carting me off for the Season, of playing at matchmaker with all of your friends. Given the circumstances, I doubt that would be proper."
He couldn't agree more. "Indeed it would not. You're welcome to attend the Season if you like, but there will be no matchmaking with my friends. Estelle was completely out of line to suggest such a thing."
"But she didn't know... about what happened."
"She most certainly did," he corrected her. "She knew exactly where things stand and she persisted in teasing me. It was cruel of her, to say the least."
"Why should she tease you?"
"She's become quite the expert at it over the years, I'm afraid. I will admit, though, that I did give her ample material to use against me when she overheard us in the nursery today."
Now Miss Meriwether's pretty face went ashen. Her lips parted with a gasp.
"She overheard us? Oh no!"
"Oh yes. It was not my finest hour. I had hoped, though, that Estelle would assist me toward my goal, not throw herself directly in the way of it."
"Assist you? You thought Estelle would approve of you.. of us... er, of that?"
"I know what it sounded like, Miss Meriwether... Carole. Please believe me when I say that the last thing I intended was to insult you with my offer today."
"I insulted myself, sir, when I allowed you to think that I was the sort of woman to entertain offers like that."
Now he did touch her. Very carefully, gently, he took her shoulders and turned her to fully face him. The tears glistened in her green eyes.
"But it was not meant to be an offer like that. I've never asked a woman to marry me before and I'm afraid I made quite a mess of it."
Clearly she was confused. "Marry you?"
"Will you, Carole? Will you marry me?"
She chewed her lip, apparently trying to make sense of his words. At last it seemed she understood. She nodded just slightly.
"I see. You are doing the honorable thing now that your family is aware. That's very kind of you, sir, but I can't allow you to do what you'll regret. No, of course I won't marry you."
Damn it all, that was not the response he wanted. How could he make her see? How could he convince her? There had to be a way to express what he felt, to let her see beyond all his bluster and his awkward attempts at warm sentiment. What could he do to get her to fall in love with him?
The box. Yes, he'd thought when the goldsmith first showed it to him that it was the perfect gift for a lover, now he knew that it was. Estelle had been sly. There was no doubt the box he'd collected from the goldsmith was the very same one Carole had spoken of. How had Estelle come by it? And why on earth would she have known her brother might have need to present such a thing? It was perplexing, to say the least, but perhaps she was trying to help him, after all.
But where was that parcel? Oh yes. He'd left it here, in this room, just on the mantle near the package of mince pies. How fortuitous.
"I have something for you," he said, leaving Miss Meriwether and retrieving the parcel, wrapped in its elegant green cloth a
nd tied with silk bows.
She crinkled her brow. "That's one of the gifts for Estelle."
"No, this is a gift for you. Estelle merely facilitated it."
"For me? But I... "
"I didn't understand what it meant, but now I do. This is most certainly a gift for you, and it is my honor to be the one to present it."
He handed it to her, letting his fingers brush hers and hoped she felt the same sizzle of heat and desire that he felt at their contact. By the warm blush that stole over her cheeks he thought that perhaps she did. She took the box carefully and gave him a suspicious look.
"What is it?"
"It is something very special. Open it."
She did. Her hands were cautious and it seemed an eternity before she finally had the ribbon untied and pulled the fabric away. When her eyes fell on the box inside, she cried out in amazement. She did not touch it at first, just stared with one hand over her mouth.
"Is it as you remember?"
"No! It's... it's shiny and new. Can this be the same box?"
"I'm quite sure of it. The goldsmith said they cleaned it in detail and mended the hinges. Apparently they were broken?"
"From years of peering inside to enjoy the rose. I can't believe it!"
"Go ahead. Look inside."
She glanced up at him as if for reassurance, so he gave her a smile. She took a deep breath and lifted the lid carefully. The fresh hinges worked effortlessly and she gasped again at the lush new interior.
"It's beautiful! But how... how did you get this?"
"Estelle found it, somehow. You'll have to ask her for the story. I'm sure however she worked this magic, it was purely out of love for her friend. But this is not the box to be given from one friend to another, is it? This is something more intimate."
"My father gave it to my mother when he asked her to marry him."
"Because he was doing the honorable thing?"
She shook her head, gazing in obvious awe at the box as it sat in its pool of green satin on the table before her. "No. Because he loved her."
At last, the moment was right to pull her into his arms. So he did.
"And that's why I'm giving it to you. Perhaps I should have stolen a sticky bun and tucked it inside, but I would hate to mess that lovely new lining."
She chuckled at his words and he took that as great encouragement.
"I love you Carole Meriwether. It's illogical and probably quite mad, but I hopelessly love you and there's nothing either of us can do about that."
She was blinking at him and he had no idea what she was thinking but he was not about to pause long enough for her to reject him again.
"I know this is sudden, and I've not treated you particularly well, so if you need more time to consider your feelings, I'll be as patient as you like. Just please... don't tell me No again. I can't bear it. Tell me to wait, tell me to court you like a proper gentleman, tell me to buy you a thousand more golden trinkets, but please at least consider me while I wait."
"But... what of all those other men Estelle wants me to meet?"
"To the devil with them! She may present them when they have been properly informed that you belong to me."
"But what of... That is, I don't..."
"You don't want to meet any of them? Good."
"No, I was going to say that I don't—"
"You don't want to wait long before getting married? Excellent!"
"No! I meant that I don't... er..."
"You don't love me? I can't say that I blame you. But if you'll give me a chance, I promise I'll spend the rest of my life giving you plenty of reason to forget what a boor and a brute I've been."
"You've not been a brute! How can you say such things? You've been generous and long-suffering and quite brave, as a matter of fact."
"Have I? Is there any hope, then, that at some future point you might think of falling in love with me at least the smallest bit?"
"Absolutely not."
He was already wracking his brain to think of something—anything—that might sway her. She didn't leave him wracking for long. She laughed, and lifted her lovely arms to wrap them around his neck.
"I can't fall in love with you in the future because I already love you completely now."
Those were the most beautiful words he could hear. He wrapped her tighter and held her so she would know he never planned to let her go.
"You are the gift I never knew that I wanted but now that I've found you, I can't give you up. So will you marry me, Carole?"
"Yes. Of course I'll marry you," she replied with a brilliant smile. "I'm obviously just as illogical and mad as you are, my lord."
And he realized he'd been wrong. These were the most beautiful words he could hear. She loved him and had agreed to become his wife.
There were a hundred more things he wanted to say, and at least as many more that he should probably say, but he didn't want to say any of them. He wanted to hold his intended and kiss her the way she ought to be kissed. She seemed agreeable to that, so he did.
Their moment was interrupted, though, by giggles from the doorway. The earl glanced up to find his entire family—including the children—away from their dinner. They stood huddled together, gaping at the spectacle in the blue drawing room.
"Look! They're under the kissing bough," Miss Liza exclaimed, pointing a chubby finger their way. "And it seems to be working!"
Miss Meriwether blushed and tried to pull away in embarrassment, but the earl held her close. By God, if this was the way of it, he'd have kissing boughs installed year 'round, in every room of his house. If not for the interruption, they'd still be enjoying the blessed thing now.
"I assume this means you've worked everything out?" Estelle asked.
"Yes, as a matter of fact. You may all start wishing us happy."
"Good, because the children want to come in and open their gifts," Estelle remarked, as if her brother's announcement was nothing more than a formality.
"Well, I'll wish you happy," his mother said, sweeping into the room and taking Carole away from him to pull her into an embrace of her own. "I'm so happy for you! And please, Miss Meriwether, forgive me. Estelle told me to tease Bahumburgh a bit, to make sure he noticed how fetching you were and to realize that other men might swoop you up if he didn't. But I had no idea you'd already been swooped!"
The ladies were lost in a flurry of talking, making plans for the future and laughing over the astonishing events of the day. The children swarmed over the amazing new addition of the piano-forte, pounding discordantly and laughing at their accomplishment. Bexley hobbled to Myserleigh and gave him a slap on the back along with a look that appeared something like pity, but then he was distracted by sight of the package from the confectioner. He made nearly as many giddy noises as the children, poking mince pies into his mouth and calling out tender appreciations to his wife for remembering them.
The earl took it all in. He stood off to the side, watching everyone enjoy their holiday and realized that for the first time since childhood, he actually felt a part of it all. This was not someone else's Christmas, this was his Christmas. And this was his family. He belonged here and he always would.
He scooped up little Charlie and called to the other children. They looked up from the piano-forte with expectant pouts, assuming he was about to scold them for making too much noise. He smiled at them instead.
"I've never heard such wonderful music. Perhaps when we come back from the stables you can play some more for us."
Miss Liza scowled. "Why should we go out to the stables, Uncle?"
"Well, you didn't think Miss Meriwether would show up without a present for you."
Little Johnny was just old enough to realize this must mean something important. "Her present is in the stable?"
"I don't know where else we would keep a pony around here, do you?"
It took only a second for the words to sink in and the two older children to start dancing about the room like wild ani
mals. On their final turn they careened into Miss Meriwether, both of them grabbing her legs in clumsy, joyous hugs.
"You brought us a pony! Thank you, Mish Meriwevher!"
Carole beamed. "It was your Mamma and Papa's doing, but I selected her for you. And just wait... when you meet her you will see there's one extra surprise!"
More dancing and more squealing ensued. Charlie scrambled down from the earl's arms to get in on the fun and Carole was clearly having the time of her life. Servants arrived bearing coats for outdoors and Myserleigh realized his time alone with Carole had ended for now. She belonged to his family and he'd have to get used to sharing her.
But he was a determined man. He'd talk to the vicar tomorrow, perhaps even ride to London for a special license. He'd make certain he was married to his Mish Meriwevher within a fortnight and they would honeymoon at Hopewell Abbey where there were two dozen rooms to hold kissing boughs. And no giggling children to interrupt.
Yet.
Note from the Author:
What was I thinking to combine elements from A CHRISTMAS CAROL and the Biblical Christmas story, then set it all in Regency England?
I was thinking what a wonderful way to follow the developing relationship between an unlikely couple, while at the same time celebrating all the wonderful things that Christmas is. I hope you have fun picking up on the little nuggets I've included here--the Regency versions of gold, frankincense and myrrh, the funny names I've given people and places, the humorous story twists--and I hope all of these serve to remind you of the True Meaning of Christmas.
As we celebrate true love in the form of God's son given to us in a manger, may you also know the true love of family and home.
About the Author
Susan Gee Heino thinks the sexiest thing a man can do is engage in witty banter. If he happens to be wearing breeches and a cravat while he does this, all the better. If he comes with a noble title, a tortured past, and perhaps even dimples, then he is just about perfect.
The Earl's Christmas Delivery Page 12