The Lady's Christmas Proposal (Honorable Rogue Book 3.5)

by Vikki Vaught

  He stood, and giving her a devilish grin, he offered her his hand. “That is for me to know, and you, my dear, will find out all in good time. Now walk me to the door, and I shall see you in the morning.”

  Millie bit her lip, almost causing him to pull her close and start all over again, but he held himself in check. She did as he requested and led him to the entryway.

  Before the footman opened the front door, he bowed low over her hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “I look forward to dancing with you tomorrow night. I pray you will save the supper dance for me?”

  “As you wish, my lord,” she murmured, obviously dazed by what they had done.

  Then he turned and strode out the door, leaving an adorably flustered Millie in his wake. Tomorrow, he would meet with the viscount and tell him he would be paying his addresses to Millie at the gala.

  The groom had his horse waiting. He swung into the saddle, and while he rode toward his home, he whistled a lively tune. All his doubts were gone. Millie would be his bride by twelfth night.

  CHAPTER 6

  Millie went upstairs to check her appearance, and it was a good thing she had, because her hair was tumbling around her shoulders and her cheeks were flushed. Her reflection stared back at her, and she giggled; joy filled her soul. Robert understood why she’d behaved badly and would still court her.

  Dare she hope he would make her an offer of marriage? While he could choose someone many years younger than she, if she went by what had occurred in the drawing room, he must not mind that she was a little older than he. Oh, she prayed he would ask her to be his wife.

  With one last glance at her reflection, she turned and left her bedchamber with a huge grin on her face. With a lightened heart, she made her way to the ballroom to help Marjorie supervise the decorations for the ball the next evening. She entered and went to her friend’s side. Her companion gave her a knowing smile. “Did you enjoy your visit with Lord Robert?”

  “I did.” Should she mention he planned to speak with Cortland? Perhaps she should wait, lest he change his mind. No, she would not allow such negativity to ruin her joyful mood. Robert told her she was brave and still wanted to pursue their courtship.

  “He asked me to reserve the supper dance for him,” she confided, her pulse jumping as she recalled their interlude. She prayed her heated cheeks would not give her inner thoughts away.

  Marjorie clapped her hands. “Oh, Millie,” she grinned, “I heard Lord Robert calling you that, I hope you don’t mind if I use it too.”

  “I would rather you did.” Soon, she hoped all her family would use it. “My father called me Millie, and since I’ve made so many changes, I thought a new name would be appropriate.”

  “I agree,” she concurred, “it’s less formal and much more suited to your friendly nature. I’m delighted Lord Robert asked for the supper dance. I would not be surprised if he asked for your hand in the very near future. The man is completely smitten.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “I pray you’re right, because he’s certainly captured my heart.”

  “It shows,” she enthused, her eyes twinkling. “You’re glowing.”

  Millie glanced away to hide her face, which surely glowed bright as a candle. “Thank you. I do feel years younger and have a new lease on life since I came here. I owe you so much.”

  “No, my dear, I owe you,” she assured her, patting her hand. “You’ve helped me tremendously. I was weighed down with so much grief when you arrived. While I shall always miss my husband and my son, I’ve realized I still have much to live for. God sent you and your sweet niece to fill the void.”

  “I’m thrilled I could be here for you. I also have a great deal to be thankful for.” Marjorie had offered her true friendship. She was nothing like her so-called friends in London. She had not received a single letter from any of them.

  A footman asked her friend a question, so they turned to the task at hand. They spent the rest of the afternoon directing the footmen and maids. By the time Mary returned, the ballroom looked perfect.

  Huge vases of evergreens and poinsettias sat on the three tables placed between the four large mullioned windows. Boughs of greenery adorned the two fireplaces at each end of the room, and mistletoe hung from the chandeliers. Holly trimmed the large mirrors above the mantels.

  After the ladies finished admiring the decorations, they all went to their rooms to dress for dinner. Millie donned a deep green gown as her mind wandered to Robert while she added the finishing touches to her toilette.

  Although she didn’t have time for woolgathering, nonetheless, a thrill raced through her as she remembered his intoxicating kisses. Noticing the clock on the mantel, she grabbed her shawl and rushed from the room, barely making it to the drawing room in time for the butler’s dinner announcement.

  The conversation around the table centered on the festivities planned for the next day. Her nephews were looking forward to the dancing. Although they were a little young to attend, Cortland and Mary had given them permission since there would be other people in attendance their age.

  At ten, Millie retired to her room. Once she was in bed, her thoughts turned to Robert yet again. Heat rose in her face when she recalled his intimate touches. Was she a wanton to crave him?

  But, oh, the sensations she’d experienced were beyond anything she could have ever imagined. Now, she had a good idea why some of the maids found themselves in a delicate condition. If Robert had not ended their torrid embrace, she greatly feared she would not have been strong enough to deny him anything he wanted.

  Oh, goodness, perhaps she should have stopped him. She hoped he didn’t think she was fast. He must not though, because he’d asked to see Cortland after their dalliance.

  Oh, please God let him ask for my hand.

  Snuggling among her pillows, she stretched and yawned. Closing her eyes, she dreamed of a future…brighter than…any she could have ever thought possible.

  * * *

  Robert awoke on the morning of Christmas Eve. He donned his favorite wool banyan and tied the sash, then made his way to the navy blue and gold brocaded curtains. Pushing them open, he scanned the ground covered with new-fallen snow. What a lovely sight, and perfect for sleighing. Melissa would be elated.

  He heard his valet rummaging through a drawer in his dressing room, and Robert called out, “Please lay out my warmest clothing. And don’t forget I’ll need my blue and silver evening attire pressed and brushed for the gala this evening.”

  “As you wish, my lord,” Fredericks replied.

  The man was new to his employ, and at this point, needed more direction. His last valet had retired. It was taking some time to adjust to Wilson. He’d been one of the footman before becoming his valet. He hoped the lad would work out, as he always preferred to give his current employees a chance of advancement, if possible.

  He strode to the dressing room and took his seat so the valet could shave him. The young man did a better job than he had the day before, not a single nick. “Excellent, Wilson.” He felt along his jaw, “very close shave.”

  He tugged on his deerskin breeches and pulled his hessian boots over his woolen stockings. They would be more practical in the snow. His new man helped him into his tight-fitting waistcoat and jacket, then he made his way downstairs.

  He entered the breakfast room and filled his plate high with sausages, eggs, potatoes, and several thick slices of toast. Taking his seat, he proceeded to slather butter and marmalade on the bread.

  Once the footman poured him a steaming cup of coffee, he perused the pressed newspaper while he ate his meal. Just more news concerning the war with France. He prayed his younger brother wasn’t in the midst of the fighting somewhere on the continent. Geoffrey was ten years his junior and the most jovial of his brothers. It would be a travesty for the family if something happened to him.

  Please, Lord, keep him safe.

  Once he finished his food, he went to the schoolroom. When he entered, Melis
sa ran to him. “Did you see the snow, Papa? May we go sledding today?”

  He stroked her silky blonde hair. “We shall take the sleigh to the party. I see you’re dressed in a very pretty red gown, quite festive.”

  For a change, thank God.

  The corners of her mouth turned down. “I hate this dress; the lace is scratchy.” She tugged at the collar.

  He rolled his eyes heavenward. His daughter desperately needed a mother to take her in hand. “Nonetheless, you must wear appropriate clothing, and the green velvet compliments your hazel eyes.” He gently touched her shoulder. “You look so much like your mother.”

  While Anne had been heartless, she’d been a stunning woman. Thank God Melissa had taken her looks and not her cold nature. She was passionate about everything, reminding him of his feisty sisters.

  “Do I look that much like Mama?” she asked.

  “Very much, and she was very beautiful,” he told her. “Now, let us depart; we don’t want to be late.”

  Once they were seated in the sleigh, he snapped the reins, and they were off, wending along the narrow lanes. When they arrived at the church, he spied Millie entering with the dowager viscountess. He helped Melissa out of the sleigh and led her inside. The parish hall looked festive with red and green linen cloths on the tables lining the walls, which were laden with mince pies, fruit cakes, and iced gingerbread.

  His daughter’s eyes widened when she saw a man sitting in a large red velvet chair dressed as Father Christmas. The little French girl, Aimee, ran toward them. “Bon jour, Melissa. You have arrived. Happy Christmas.”

  “And Happy Christmas to you as well,” Melissa enthused as she bounced on her toes.

  Aimee curtsied to him. “Good morning, Monsieur. May Melissa come with me to see Pere Noel, umm, I mean, Father Christmas?”

  He smiled at the child. “Certainly.” The little girl grabbed Melissa’s hand, and they ran to the line of children waiting their turn.

  Millie moved beside him. “Aren’t they adorable together? And, Aimee’s trying very hard to speak in English most of the time. I’m thrilled they’re getting along.”

  “So am I.” Warmth filled him as he watched his daughter waiting patiently with Aimee to see Father Christmas. “Melissa needs a female friend. She’s such a tomboy.”

  “She’s still quite young.” Her eyes twinkled with merriment. “I preferred boys when I was her age as well. I used to love to climb trees and ride my pony.”

  “A bit of a hoyden, were you?” He grinned. “I’m relieved to hear that. I’ve been at my wit’s end because she refuses to play with dolls or learn to do needlework.”

  “I promise,” she cajoled, “once she’s a little older, she’ll turn to more feminine pursuits. I did when my mother took me in hand.”

  “Ah, but you see, Melissa doesn’t have a female in her life.” His whiskey eyes met hers. “I think…I need to change that in the near future.”

  “A woman’s guidance would be helpful.” Millie blushed. Lord, he loved it when her cheeks turned rosy. “Do you have someone in mind?”

  His pulse raced; he took a step closer and whispered seductively, “I do, and I have high hopes the lady returns my affections and will look with favor on my suit.”

  Before they could continue their flirtation, Lady Hardesty joined them. “Lord Robert, I’m delighted you could attend, and you brought your daughter. Aimee is excited to have another new friend.” She turned to the woman at her side. “Have you met my sister-in-law, Mrs. Hawks?”

  While he ached to take Millie somewhere private and show her how much he cared, alas, he needed to play the gallant. “We haven’t been formally introduced, but I did see her briefly the other day.” He bowed to the woman. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

  A young boy ran to the woman, and when he stopped in front of her, he put his hands on his hips and stuck out his lip. “Mama,” he whined, “Melanie said she’s smarter than me because she can speak French. Aimee taught her, but Gerrard says he wants to practice his English, so he hasn’t taught me any French words.”

  Mrs. Hawks tapped her finger against her pursed lips. “Well, Harry, since you want to learn French, I shall speak with your tutor and have him add it to your curriculum.”

  The little boy’s brows drew together. “Uh, maybe I don’t need to learn French after all, but Melanie shouldn’t brag.”

  “I shall speak to her; in the meantime,” she countered, “why don’t you join Gerrard at the drink table and bring me a glass of punch?”

  He shuffled his feet. “All right, Mama.” The young man turned and ran to Gerrard.

  Mrs. Hawks sighed. “Children, while we love them, they can pull on one’s nerves at times. Although Harry and Melanie are constantly challenging each other, they also protect one another. They both like your daughter, especially Harry.”

  At that point, her husband joined them and shortly after, Lord and Lady Billingsley came over. He didn’t have another opportunity to speak with Millie, but tonight, he would have her undivided attention for the supper dance.

  * * *

  When Millie returned home, she had the maid Mary had assigned to her draw a bath. She wanted to look her best for the evening’s gala, so she spent more time on her toilette than normal. Susie also tried a new style for her hair, pulling it into a top knot with tendrils of curls tumbling from it. It was very becoming.

  After she was dressed, she stood before the pier glass and was thoroughly pleased with her gown of russet silk with satin Vandyke points bordering the neckline and the hem. The fabric draped her curves in a most flattering way. She hoped Robert would think she looked nice. In fact—she drew closer to the mirror—not only had she lost weight, but she looked younger than when she first arrived at Wallingford Manor.

  Since she no longer lived in fear of one of her brother’s angry outbursts, the lines that used to bracket her mouth were barely noticeable. She truly did have so much to be grateful for since Cortland and Mary asked her to live with them.

  Millie made her way downstairs and joined the others for dinner. They were a lively group, what with her nephews’ amusing banter. She sat beside Mr. Hawks and enjoyed their conversation a great deal. The man was an avid reader, and they had read many of the same novels.

  At the end of the meal, they went to the ballroom, and before long, guests began arriving. The ballroom quickly filled, and Mary and Cortland opened the first dance. Just when she was beginning to think Robert wasn’t coming, she spied him walking toward her.

  Her heart jumped; her pulse raced. He looked so debonair in his royal blue and silver evening attire. His dark blond hair was combed away from his face, and his whiskey-colored eyes darkened as he took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Good evening, ma’am.” He lowered his voice so only she could hear. “You look…ravishing. That color brings out the gold in your silky auburn hair.”

  His rich baritone voice rolled over her and sent a shiver running from the crown of her head to her toes. “Thank you. Melissa had a good time this morning, did she not?”

  “She did,” he replied. “She told me she likes Melanie, Mr. Hawks’ daughter. She also likes Harry.” The string quartet began tuning up for the next set. “Will you stand up with me?”

  “I would be honored.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and gooseflesh skidded along her spine as he guided her to their place among the other dancers.

  Although it may had been years since she’d danced, the steps to the Roger de Covely quickly came to her, and soon she was lightly tripping down the center between the others as if she hadn’t spent years sitting with old maids and chaperones.

  When the set ended, they joined Mary and Cortland. Soon, Lord Billingsley asked her to dance, then Mr. Hawks. Some of the gentlemen in the area asked her as well, but Robert couldn’t ask her again if he wanted to take her into supper. The ton had such silly rules.

  At last, the musicians played the opening notes for the s
upper dance, and Robert returned to her side. “I believe you’ve reserved this one for me.”

  She met his warm whiskey eyes, and her heart surged. “I have.” They joined the other dancers and waited for the introduction to the next set. “Are you enjoying the evening?”

  “Very much, but I would rather have been by your side.” Tingles raced along her shoulders. “I noticed you danced nearly every set.”

  The music started, and they had to move apart. When they came together again, his smile set her heart racing yet again, and she could barely breathe. After the first dance ended, he asked, “Would you like to stroll along the corridor so we can talk, instead of finishing this set?”

  More than ready to leave the overcrowded ballroom, she acquiesced, and he led her away. A few couples had the same notion because several of them strolled the hall. When they reached the library, he grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, closing the door behind them.

  “At last, a moment alone.” He pulled her into his arms and murmured, “I’ve craved a kiss since I arrived.”

  He slowly lowered his mouth to hers. Waves of sensation danced along her arms as he deepened his kiss. She followed his lead and parted her lips allowing him entry, and his tongue slipped inside. Sparks of light flashed behind her closed eyelids as he plundered her mouth.

  After several drugging kisses, he murmured, “Millie. You have no idea what you do to me.” He stroked her face with the back of his hand, then dropped to one knee.

  Could he be proposing?

  Her legs shook, barely holding her upright.

  His eyes glowed with tenderness. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but over the last few weeks, you have engaged my affections. Dare I hope you have feelings for me?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Oh, I do, Robert, I truly do.”

  He pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. “My dear, dear, Millie, will you make me the happiest of men and agree to be my wife?” He held the box open and nestled inside was a stunning yellow topaz ring surrounded by brilliant diamonds. “This belonged to my grandmother. Will you accept this as a token of my esteem?”