“If you will sit upright, I will fluff your pillow.” With care, he placed a shawl about her shoulders, bent, and kissed a pert nipple. “You are so beautiful, Mira.”
“I am glad you think so.” Suddenly shy, she cursed the burn of a blush. “Because I want to be beautiful for you.”
“You could never be anything less.” Perched on the edge of the mattress, he eased beneath the blankets and heaped scrambled eggs, smoked kippers, and toast on a plate. “Would you prefer marmalade or strawberry preserves on your bread, sweetheart?”
“The preserves, please.” How many times had she envisioned such tender exchanges, only to discover it was all a reverie to escape her miserable existence? Under the covers, she pinched her arm. “Nicholas, is this really happening?”
“What do you mean?” Holding their meal, he gazed at her, and his expression sobered. “Oh, my sweet girl, I am here, I promise.”
Balancing the food in his lap, he fed her, bite by delicious bite, interspersed with whispery kisses and playful nips, mingled with affirmations of love and devotion, until a hunger of another sort blossomed in the pit of her belly.
“That is enough, for now.” She reached for him, but he stayed her. “What is wrong?”
“I have a gift, which I planned to give you at the Christmas ball.” From the bedside table, he collected a box. “I believe you misplaced this, my dear.”
“But you have given me too much, already.” Curious, she lifted the lid. “Nicholas.”
“If you remember, I gave this to you as a token of my undying affection, and I am positive you must have lost it.” From a nest of pristine cotton, he recovered the treasured coral necklace she sold to that nasty Mr. MacGregor. “Hold up your hair, sweetheart.”
“How did you know?” It was the last remnant of the young ingénue, and she thought it gone forever. “Where did you get it?”
“From Mr. MacGregor, after you sold it to him.” Nicholas adjusted the bauble and then kissed her neck. “And from the look on your face, I am left to surmise you never discovered the secret engraving on the clasp.”
“There is a secret engraving?” She blinked.
“Indeed.” With a finger, he tapped the tip of her nose. “It says, quite simply, ‘Nicholas and Almira.’ And I gather from the speed with which the greedy bastard contacted me, he presumed your benefactor and I were one in the same, based on the salacious rumors running rampant through the ton.”
“But I never knew that.” Of course, she had never seriously scrutinized the item, in question. “And to think all that dreadful gossip led you to recover what I have always considered a priceless keepsake, which I bartered only because Mildred and I were starving.”
“Then I am gratified it served its purpose, which was to safeguard you, as a talisman, in my absence.” Tugging the shawl from her shoulders, Nicholas studied her mouth and met her gaze. “Do you not see, Mira? You were never alone, because some small part of me has always been with you.”
What Almira spied in his blue eyes quickened her pulse, and a shiver of anticipation coursed her flesh. Cupping his cheek, she smiled, which he returned, and reclined, and he covered her. With his legs, he spread her thighs, but he moved gently. When he rested his hips to hers, and claimed her in the most elemental fashion possible, with a single thrust, she gasped. Then he initiated the delicate dance, worshipping her with his body, and she was with him. There was warmth, devotion, and an unfailing promise she would never doubt. Most of all, there was love.
HOLD ME, THRILL ME, KISS ME
EPILOGUE
Portsea Island
December 24, 1816
Laughter filled the drawing room at Courtenay Hall, and Nicholas occupied the overstuffed chair near the hearth, in which the Yule Log burned, with Almira perched in his lap. The children had been sent to bed, so the adults could exchange gifts, in keeping with the family tradition. To his delight, his wife donned the parure of diamonds he purchased just for her.
“Oh, Nicholas, it is too much.” Shimmering in more ways than one, Mira beamed, as she toyed with the expensive necklace. “However, I feel terrible, because my present has yet to arrive.”
“But it will be here, soon enough.” Caressing her round belly, he winked, and it never ceased to amaze him how much had changed in the year since they first ventured to Portsea Island. “And then we must begin the arduous task of begetting the other five, but I shall endeavor to persevere for my lady’s sake.”
“Are you not the benevolent soul.” With a flirty giggle, she wiggled her hips and offered her cheek, upon which he pressed his lips. “I wish our babe would hurry, as I am uncontrollably excited to meet our son or daughter.”
“If I may interrupt, I have something special for both of you.” Blake handed Almira an envelope. “Happy Christmas.”
“How curious.” When Almira flipped the missive, Nicholas noted the familiar Great Seal of the Realm, and his bride gasped. “Nicholas, it is from His Majesty.”
“Open it, sweetheart.” Peering over her shoulder, he held his breath as she broke the wax.
The posh stationary heralded momentous news, and it was then he realized the once boisterous gathering had quieted. For several seconds, he read and reread the contents, and in his mind he tried but failed to compose an eloquent response.
“Tell us what it says.” On the sofa, Sabrina bounced with unconcealed excitement.
“My lord, in grateful appreciation for services rendered in aid to an agent of the Crown, you are made the earl of Lonsdale.” With something between a sob and a sigh, Almira kissed Nicholas. “And we are to be received at St. James’s, in January.”
“That should take care of the last few holdouts in society.” Making the rounds of the room, holding a tray loaded with glasses of champagne, Dalton offered Nicholas and Mira a portion of the celebratory beverage. “And thanks to my cherished wife’s perfectly timed rumor, which explained the first discreditable on-dit as merely a ruse to inspire jealousy and get you to the altar, the scandal is all but forgotten.”
“The Season posited a triumph in strategy, and I credit Lenore with the idea of hosting a ball in observance of your nuptials, as it put to bed most of the unsavory gossip. And the stern discussion I had with Lord Moreton, as well as his father’s associates, quashed further hateful talk of past deeds, so you may rest easy as you ponder a bright future.” Standing at attention, Blake held high his glass. “Permit me the honor of a toast, in commemoration of familial ties and a love that binds us, for eternity. In fact, the older I get, the more I realize our ancestors understood the value of close connections, better than most, and I hope to instill in the next generation the same conviction, as there is incomparable strength in kindred affection. Tonight, we pay tribute to two deserving people, pledging our unreserved support, and long may joy and prosperity fill their lives. To the new Lord and Lady Lonsdale.”
In unison, the group replied, “To Lord and Lady—”
A piercing wail shattered the serenity, as Almira tensed and doubled over.
“Sweetheart, are you all right?” Quickly, Nicholas set aside the champagne. “Is it the babe?”
“Daphne, I think it time to summon Dr. Langdon.” Between pants, Mira gritted her teeth and squeezed his fingers. “Oh—I am sure of it.”
The hostess darted into the hall, while the others moved with lightning speed.
“It is snowing outside. Will the doctor make it?” Nicholas stood, taking Almira with him. As soon as her feet hit the rug, a rush of fluid poured forth. “What happened?”
“Her water broke, and that is perfectly normal, so everyone remain calm. And Dr. Langdon opened his practice on Portsea Island, after the war, so he should be here in a matter of minutes.” Balancing Almira, Lenore extended assistance. “Nicholas, if you would convey her upstairs, to your room, that we might prepare her for the birth.”
“Of course.” In an instant, he bent and swept Almira into his arms. “Do not worry, my darling, as I will let
naught harm you.”
“But I am not worried, because you are with me.” Even as he moved with expedience, she accepted the developments with unimpaired aplomb and claimed another kiss. “Is this not a dream come true, because I did so want to give you an heir for Christmas?”
“Just give me a healthy child and survive, and I am content.” In their chamber, he strode through the sitting room and into the inner quarter, whereupon he set her down. “Shall I remove the wet gown, my love?”
“Yes, please.” As he loosened the laces, Almira sucked in a breath and groaned. “Hurry, Nicholas.”
“I can finish, if you prefer to join the men.” Daphne drew a fresh night rail from the armoire. “And the ladies converge, even now.”
“But I never leave her alone.” Holding Mira at her waist, he supported her, as Sabrina stripped off the slippers and shoes. “Indeed, we are never apart.”
From the day they married, Nicholas spent almost every minute in Almira’s company for a simple reason. On the singular occasion when he rose before her, and decided to prepare and deliver her breakfast, she woke to discover him gone and rattled the rooftops of their country estate with her mournful cries, because she thought their marriage a dream, and it took hours to reassure her. From that point forward, he never vacated their bed until she was awake, alert, and smiling.
“Go, Nicholas, as I am not alone.” With a gentle wave, she shooed him. “Have your brandy, and let me be about my business.”
“If you are sure.” Despite a desire to anchor at her side, he tied the bow of her nightgown and carried her to the bed. Easing her to the mattress, he met her stare. “I love you, my sweet girl.”
“I love you, too.” Aglow, she hugged him when he fluffed her pillow. “I am a little scared, but I do so long to have your baby.”
“Our baby.” He corrected her. “And I can stay. You need only say the word.”
“Nicholas, I promise, we will take excellent care of her.” At the opposite end of the bed, Elaine sat on the mattress. “Ross was the same way, until the first sight of blood, and he fainted.”
“I heard about that, from Lance.” He snickered, as he recalled the merciless ribbing. “Perhaps I should repair downstairs.”
“Yes, you should.” Yet, Mira grabbed his wrist. “But I would have another kiss.”
“Ah, my darling.” Framing her face, he covered her mouth with his in a reassuring affirmation of his devotion, that he might sustain her in his absence. “I will be but a mere handful of steps away, sweetheart. If you need me, I will be here.”
“And I will be here, waiting to introduce you to the new addition to our family.” Smiling from ear to ear, Almira blew him a kiss. “See you soon, papa.”
In the hall, he strolled until he came to the landing and the grand staircase, whereupon he descended to the main floor. In the foyer, he turned right and returned to the drawing room. It was then Almira’s parting statement struck him as a bucket of water in the face.
“Bloody hell, I am to be a father.” Nicholas’s knees buckled, and Dalton and Blake rushed to provide aid.
“Here.” Jason thrust a glass of brandy at Nicholas. “Drink that, as it will soothe frazzled nerves.”
Without complaint, Nicholas downed the contents in an impressive gulp. Then he swayed.
“Easy, brother.” Everett caught Nicholas in the nick of time. “The first is always the toughest, but you will accustom yourself to it.”
“I recommend pacing, as it alleviates the stress.” Trevor scratched his temple. “You know I actually believe women have it far easier, as they lie abed throughout the whole ordeal.”
“While we fret for their welfare.” Jason poured a refill. “Yet the ladies are given all the credit.”
As the men argued the finer points of childbirth, Nicholas initiated a repetitive back and forth journey before the windows. In the world beyond the glass, a blizzard raged, and for the next couple of hours he maintained his vigil. In a strange accompaniment, the wind howled in increasing intensity, seemingly in direct proportion to Almira’s escalating cries.
On the polished oak mantel, a clock marked the passage of time, which he checked against his pocket watch. Twelve chimes signaled midnight, and he stepped into the hall but found no one. When he feared he could take no more, and he loomed on the verge of running amok, silence fell on the grand residence, and he halted.
“What does that mean?” Yanking on his cravat, Nicholas untied and pulled the yard-length of linen from his neck. “Someone tell me what is happening, sans levity, or arses will be kicked.”
“Oh, I say.” Ross burst into laughter. “I do believe he is serious. Given it is half past one, and he is just now threatening us, I win the wager.”
Money traded hands, and a few fellows grumbled complaints.
“You gambled on my reaction?” Nicholas bared his teeth. “And I thought we were friends.”
“Come now, no need for violence, as we are not friends.” Blake opened a box of cigars. “We are family, and we speculate on everything, most especially conception, birth, and whether or not the expectant father maintains consciousness. By the way, I won the last, as I knew you would not falter under pressure. If history serves as any example, your wife will want a bath before she receives you, so why not indulge in a celebratory smoke?”
“Do you think she is all right?” Cursed with palpable fear, Nicholas clutched fistfuls of Blake’s dark green coat. “What if something is wrong? What if Almira is ill? What if the babe is—”
“Healthy and hungry.” Hicks cleared his throat. “Mrs. Randolph bade me inform you that Mrs. Sheldon is well, and Mr. Sheldon may join his wife in thirty minutes.”
“What of my child?” In that moment, he teetered, and the male collective leaped into action.
“Whoa.” With a smirk, Jason shoved a lit cigar between Nicholas’s lips. “There. Suck on that and give your woman a brief respite, because I venture, double or nothing, you will cry when you glimpse your firstborn.”
“I will take those odds.” Ross nodded once.
“I want a piece of that action.” Everett narrowed his stare. “Three to one, he faints.”
“As to your query, I believe I will let Mrs. Sheldon answer you, sir.” The butler bowed. “Mr. Randolph, Mrs. Randolph asked me to inform you that she is retiring, as is Mrs. Logan, Mrs. Collingwood, and the other ladies.”
“Time for bed.” Dalton doused his cigar and rushed into the corridor, followed in quick succession by the rest of the men, leaving Nicholas alone with his musings.
In the quiet, he counted the minutes until the long-case clock in the foyer signaled it was time to meet his child. Slow and steady, he climbed the stairs. After navigating the gallery, he strolled the hall that led to the luxurious apartment he shared with Mira.
“Hello.” Propped in the middle of the massive four-poster, she held their babe and smiled. “I have someone very anxious to meet her father.”
“It is a girl?” As Nicholas neared, he fought tears and cursed Collingwood. “We have a daughter?”
“And one more, sir.” To the right, Mildred approached, bearing a second infant, which she gave into his care. “This would be your son.”
“Twins?” Infinite joy filled his heart, and he wept unashamedly.
“Two down, four to go.” Mira giggled. “Are they not the most beautiful creatures you have ever seen?”
“He has your eyes.” Nicholas stroked the soft cheek of his heir, eased beside his wife, and chuckled. “They are perfection, my dear. And how are you?”
“Wonderful.” Mira lifted her chin, and they shared a tender kiss. “And you?”
“Never better.” His son cooed and Nicholas burst with pride. “Did you hear that? I think he spoke.”
“Yes.” She rested her head to his shoulder. “He has your mouth.”
“My lady, let Mrs. Jones and I take the babes, as you need rest.” Mildred lingered at the ready, along with the housekeeper. “I promise, I
will bring them to you, first thing in the morning, once you are awake.”
“Oh, all right.” Almira yawned, and he gave the children into the maid’s custody. “I am tired.”
Trailing in the servant’s path, he waited until she navigated the sitting room before closing the doors. When he turned to his bride, he discovered her dozing amid a mound of pillows and shook his head.
“So much for the romantic interlude I had planned for tonight.” Yet he suffered no disappointment. “And wait until your parents arrive, this afternoon, because I managed to appeal to your father, and your mother threatened to divorce him if he did not relent.”
Ah, love manifested a curious emotion. Bereft of envy, it grew, it spread, it touched, and it consumed everything in its wake, redeeming even the darkest, damaged soul, and his was not immune. He had walked the hot coals of damnation, endured scandal, and survived seemingly insurmountable heartbreak to seize the prize, and the same could be said of his wife, so they deserved a bit of good fortune. In light of recent revelations, it appeared they had been doubly blessed.
In relative silence, Nicholas stripped naked, stoked the fire in the hearth, draped an extra blanket on the bed, blew out the tapers, and slipped between the covers. As always, Mira rolled onto her side and scooted close. Wrapping his arms about her, he pressed his lips to her forehead.
“Happy Christmas, Nicholas.” With a sigh, she returned to the land of dreams.
Closing his eyes, he sank into the down mattress. “Happy Christmas, indeed, my love.”
ABOUT BARBARA DEVLIN
Bestselling, Amazon All-Star author Barbara Devlin was born a storyteller, but it was a weeklong vacation to Bethany Beach, DE that forever changed her life. The little house her parents rented had a collection of books by Kathleen Woodiwiss, which exposed Barbara to the world of romance, and Shanna remains a personal favorite. Barbara writes heartfelt historical romances that feature flawed heroes who may know how to seduce a woman but know nothing of marriage. And she prefers feisty but smart heroines who sometimes save the hero, before they find their happily ever after. Barbara earned an MA in English and continued a course of study for a Doctorate in Literature and Rhetoric. She happily considered herself an exceedingly eccentric English professor, until success in Indie publishing lured her into writing, full-time, featuring her fictional knighthood, the Brethren of the Coast.
Under The Kissing Bough: 15 Romantic Holiday Novellas Page 46