Kissed at Christmas

by Christina McKnight

  Sir William moved in closer. “Not anymore.”

  Her skin tightened at his presence, yearning for him once again. She fumbled for something to stay, anything to distract herself from the feelings she didn’t want to face. “You didn’t deserve what Miss Kent did to you. If she had second thoughts about the marriage, she should have told you far earlier. Waiting until the day of the wedding is simply abominable.” She knew that her tone was far too critical, but she couldn’t stop herself from adding, “You should have given her the cut direct.”

  “I was curious as to why she wanted to speak with me. And as I told you before, she is the reason I came to this wedding. I wanted to face her, so she would know that I have moved on with my life.”

  But she wasn’t certain that was true, since he never intended to marry again. She ventured, “I don’t understand how you can forgive her so easily.”

  “Because I am a saint,” he said drily, and at that, she laughed aloud.

  “No, Sir William, you are anything but a saint.” He was the sort of man who would pull her into a dark corner and kiss her until her knees grew weak. And she had to admit to herself that she liked him entirely too much. He made her want to seek out dark corners.

  Dozens of guests poured from the Great Hall at that moment, and she had no choice but to greet distant family members and friends. She saw her sister Rose speaking with Lord Snowingham, and even Gwyn was talking to Pendarvis.

  “Save a dance for me this evening at the Yule Ball,” he said quietly. Then he squeezed her hand and left her side.

  Marjorie couldn’t give an answer, for she was uncertain of where her feelings lay. Whenever she was with him, it seemed as if the rest of the world fell away, leaving them alone. She was far too attracted to this man, wanting to rest her cheek against his chest while he held her.

  William unsettled her, for she didn’t want to care for him. Yet, the moment she had seen Miss Kent making eyes at him, she couldn’t stop the surge of jealousy. Which was so very odd.

  A cold sensation drifted over her shoulders, and she stopped walking. Glaring into the shadows, she snapped, “That’s quite enough. Leave me alone, or I’ll bring Lord Snowingham to blast you into the hereafter.”

  Instantly the cold vanished, and she saw the ghost of Benedict drifting away. Her mood softened, for she rather liked the Tudor ghost, even if he did have a tendency toward matchmaking.

  She walked along the hallway and heard footsteps behind her. Then a voice called out, “Lady Marjorie.”

  She turned and saw Miss Kent. The young woman offered a sympathetic smile and said, “I don’t think we’ve met before, but I am Laurie Kent. I am friends with your sister Morgan.”

  And you were more than friends with Sir William, she thought to herself. But she decided to feign ignorance. “I am glad to meet you, Miss Kent.”

  “I saw you speaking with Sir William just now, and I thought we might talk a moment in private.”

  Because you want to warn me off, she thought. But there was truly no need for that, since Sir William was adamantly opposed to marriage. “Is something wrong?”

  Miss Kent hesitated and stepped into the library. “You seemed quite taken with him, and I wondered if you were aware that he and I are engaged to marry.” She spoke in the present tense, as if their past had disappeared.

  “What do you mean?” Marjorie asked. She put on her best shocked expression as if she had never dreamed this would be the subject of their conversation. But inwardly, she was well aware that this woman felt threatened by her.

  “My father forbade me to marry a man as poor as Sir William,” Miss Kent continued. “They believed he was a fortune hunter, who would only take my dowry and use it for his own gain. I wept and pleaded, but Father insisted.”

  Marjorie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t believe that for a moment. If it were true, Miss Kent’s father would have never agreed to the marriage in the first place, much less allowed their daughter to make plans. “Did you know he was poor?” she ventured.

  Miss Kent sighed. “Not at first, no. But I heard from many of my friends that he had invested most of his family’s fortune in spice shipments. My father warned me that he could lose everything.”

  Marjorie could not believe William had ever desired to marry such a fickle woman. “And you aren’t worried about that now?”

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Not anymore. I heard that he made a good profit from the investment, and he no longer has his fortune tied to the shipments.” A moment later, Miss Kent shuddered. “My goodness, it’s cold in here.”

  Marjorie could not see any of the castle ghosts, but she was silently cheering for them. “And now you wanted to warn me not to set my hopes on Sir William, am I right?”

  “I should hate for you to have a broken heart,” Miss Kent said quietly. “It would not be fair to you, when I have finally made my father realize that we love one another. Money is of no consequence anymore. William has all that he needs to take care of me.”

  The woman spoke as if she believed that. Even so, Marjorie wasn’t about to argue, for she knew Sir William had no feelings at all toward herself.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I must go and see if my mother needs help.” Marjorie nodded to Miss Kent and departed the library, not really knowing why the conversation had upset her. She and Sir William were friends, nothing more. Her feelings were a deep attraction, and she didn’t want to marry anyone at all.

  She passed by her sisters, Rose and Gwyn, but could not get close to Tamsyn or Morgan, due all the guests congratulating them. Instead, she decided to seek solace in the library, where she could gather her tangled up thoughts and put them to rights.

  Quiet and solitude were her best allies now. There were hours left until the Yule Ball, and she intended to spend them alone.

  Later that evening, William searched for Lady Marjorie, but it seemed she had decided not to attend the Yule Ball. He couldn’t understand why, for this was a celebration of her sisters’ weddings. Of all people, she ought to be here.

  To his annoyance, Laurie had practically stitched herself to his side. No matter where he turned, she was there. She wore a white gown embroidered with purple, and she laughed gaily during the celebration. Her mannerisms were filled with guile, and he doubted the sincerity of everything she said.

  “Oh, William, I cannot tell you how glad I am to be at your side once more. I missed you dreadfully.”

  He thought of Marjorie’s earlier comment, that Laurie had broken the engagement because of money. He wondered if that held any truth at all and decided to spin his own story.

  “I was very angry when you left,” he said quietly. “And over the past year, I thought of nothing else.”

  “As did I. I tormented myself with thoughts of what a mistake I made. We belong together, William. We always have.” She rested her hand in the crook of his arm, gazing at him in adoration.

  He forced a smile he didn’t feel. If she had truly believed that, she would have answered his letters. “I should tell you that I’ve made an important investment. One of my friends is going into copper mining, and I intend to help him.” Only a few people knew about Michael Beck’s plans, and he didn’t want to mention it to anyone, especially in a lie.

  Her face tightened with uncertainty. “What do you mean?”

  “I think there could be a great deal of profit in copper mining. Unless of course, he chooses a site where there is no copper. It’s a high risk, but I think one that will pay off.”

  “But…mining?” Her face fell at the thought. “You could lose everything.”

  “Oh, I doubt it,” he said smoothly. “Besides, money means nothing to me. And of course, you have your dowry to support us, if needed.”

  Just as he’d suspected, she pulled her hand away. “I think that would be a grave mistake to invest, William. You mustn’t think of taking such a risk.” Her complexion had gone pale. “Do tell him that you’ve changed your mind.”
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  “I’ve already given him most of my savings,” he lied. “But I feel confident that—”

  “You did what?” She stared at him in utter disbelief.

  “You needn’t worry,” he reassured her. “If you truly believe we are meant to be together, it doesn’t matter if we have money or not.”

  For a long moment, she was silent. The dismay on her face made it evident that Laurie was still deeply concerned about his wealth. He waited for the rise of anger, expecting to feel furious with her. Instead, curiously, he felt nothing at all, save impatience.

  “Please forgive me, William, but there is someone I must speak with. I shall return in a moment, if you’ll wait here.” She gave a polite nod, and pasted on a smile as she crossed the room.

  He could see the anxiety in her posture, and it struck him that her affection had dimmed the moment he’d suggested he might have risked his fortune on a mining venture. But more than that, he realized that he no longer cared about Laurie’s approval. Instead, he found himself searching for a glimpse of Marjorie. He wanted to dance with her this night, to set aside the past and look toward a different future.

  But she was nowhere to be found.

  He moved through the crowd, grateful to be away from the throngs of people, until he was alone in the hallway. The noise of music and conversation filled up the space, and he walked past the garlands of greenery and colorful ribbons. This year, he had dreaded the thought of Christmas, for it had reminded him of Laurie. But now, he saw the greenery and remembered walking through the garden maze with Marjorie. He remembered the snowflakes falling upon her lashes and lips, and the honest smile upon her face.

  In these past two days, he had come to enjoy that smile and her humor. Even when they were alone, with nothing but a Christmas pudding between them, she brought life to his battered heart. He didn’t want to leave in the morning and never see her again. Instead, he found that he wanted her in a way he had never wanted Laurie, and the realization struck him hard.

  Footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned to see Miss Cushing standing there. Her expression held disappointment, but she said quietly, “Marjorie is in the library.”

  William recognized her unspoken peace offering and said, “Thank you for telling me. And…I’m sorry that it would not have been a good match between us, Miss Cushing. You are a true lady.”

  “It’s all right. I am entirely too boring for someone like you.” She sighed and folded her gloved hands.

  He didn’t want her to denigrate herself. “I suspect there is more to you than most men realize. And one day, you’ll find the gentleman you deserve—someone far better than me. I will do what I can to help you.” He smiled at her, and she answered it with a tentative one of her own.

  “Perhaps.” She scrutinized him a moment and asked, “Are you planning to marry my cousin?”

  He didn’t know how to answer that, so he said, “That depends on her wishes. She doesn’t seem eager to be married at all.” But he could not deny that the idea of spending time each day with Marjorie was a welcome one.

  Miss Cushing seemed lost in thought for a moment. “No, but she did seem to like you when I saw you together yesterday.” With a twisted smile, she added, “Perhaps you’ll want me to indulge in matchmaking.”

  “I would be grateful for your assistance,” he answered honestly. If he could gain Marjorie’s assent, he would speak with her father in the morning.

  “I will think about it.” She studied him a moment and then added, “I suppose I shall go join the wallflowers at the Yule ball.”

  “You deserve better than that,” he said. “And if I might offer some advice, you should smile more, Miss Cushing. You look lovely when you do.”

  She did smile then, and curtsied to him before she returned to the ballroom.

  William walked along the hallway toward the library, trying to assemble his thoughts. He didn’t know why Marjorie had avoided the ball, but he hoped he had not offended her in some way.

  As Miss Cushing had said, he found her curled up in a chair in the library, a book upon her lap. Beside her, a cup of tea rested on a table and it appeared to have gone cold.

  “I thought you would be at the Yule ball,” he said to her. “I wanted to dance with you.”

  Marjorie glanced up and shook her head. “I decided not to go.”

  William pulled a chair across from her and asked, “Why not?”

  She closed the book and set it aside. “I suppose because I didn’t want to see you dancing with Miss Kent…remembering how much you loved her.”

  Her words were lined with sadness, enough to give him hope. He leaned in closer and said, “I thought I loved her. But I don’t think I truly knew the woman she was.”

  “She came back to you, though. And she reminded me that you are engaged once again.”

  William reached for her hands and shook his head. “We are not engaged.”

  Marjorie sat up, her eyes holding such emotions, he felt his own heartbeat quicken. “I told her a story of how I invested all my money in Beck’s copper mine. She was appalled.”

  The faint smile at her lips gave him reason to hope. “And did you?”

  He met her gaze squarely. “Would it matter to you if I did?”

  She shook her head. “It wouldn’t matter to me if you had not a penny to your name.”

  “I’m afraid I will have to disappoint you,” he said, leaning in to brush his mouth against hers. “For I have a great many pennies that I would like to share with you.”

  She moved her hands to rest against his cravat. Her eyes held a sudden hope, and he threaded his hands in her hair. To his surprise, instead of holly, he found mistletoe tucked beneath the strands. He withdrew the sprig and held it out. “I don’t think you need this here, Lady Marjorie.”

  Her face flushed, and she let out a slight laugh. “I blame Gwyn. I thought it was only holly in my hair.”

  He leaned in, nipping her lips with his. “I would thank your sister instead of blaming her. Because I think you need to be well kissed. Every day.”

  She wound her arms around his neck. “I agree.” This time, she brought her mouth to his, and he claimed it fully, drawing her onto his lap. He kissed her over and over, savoring her sweet mouth until her body trembled against his.

  “Someone could walk in on us,” he reminded her. “This is dangerous.”

  “Stay with me,” she murmured. In her voice, he heard the longing, and it echoed his own feelings. He wanted this woman badly—more than he’d ever thought possible.

  He lifted her into his arms and stood. “Where do you want to go? The kitchens? Or the maze?” He lowered her to stand before him, and she took his hand, leading him to the far side of the library.

  Then she pressed at a panel beside one of the bookcases, and it clicked open. He could see nothing in the darkness, but she stepped into the hidden passage and drew him inside. A sudden rush of uneasiness passed over him, and his heartbeat quickened. Though he knew Marjorie only wanted a stolen moment, he didn’t like closed spaces at all. For a moment, his heartbeat quickened, and it grew difficult to breathe. He wanted to get out of this place, but then Marjorie lifted her mouth to his, and he forgot about everything else. There was a faint sliver of light, enough to remind him that they could leave at any moment. She calmed him and with her in his arms, he was able to push past the discomfort.

  He closed his eyes, shutting out all else except the feeling of her mouth upon his. She met his intensity with her own kiss, and when he slid his tongue into her mouth, she trembled. This time, he wanted to touch her, to make her feel the same wildness he did.

  He drew his hands over her shoulders, lowering his mouth to the skin above her bodice. Her hands dug into his back, and she whispered, “I know this is wrong, Sir William. But I cannot stop the way I feel.”

  But he didn’t want her to believe that any part of this was wrong. For he was falling in love with this woman.

  “Will you let me touch you,
Marjorie?” he asked quietly.

  She was silent, and he drew his hands down her spine to the curve of her bottom. She gasped, and he kissed her again. With his mouth upon hers, he murmured, “If you want me to stop, say the word, and I will.”

  Marjorie knew she should speak. She should tell him to stop, for this would only end in scandal. But she could not deny that she craved his touch. Her mouth was swollen from his kiss, and her breasts were aching against her gown. William removed his gloves and knelt down, his bare hands moving beneath her skirts. He touched her ankles, sliding his hands higher, to caress her calves. Her knees went weak, and she leaned back against the wall, trying to catch her breath.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. His voice was heavy with desire, and she could scarcely breathe.

  “Y-yes,” she moaned.

  “Then don’t move.” He kept his hand upon one leg, her skirts bunched above her knees. “I want to pleasure you, Marjorie. I want to watch you come apart in my arms.”

  She didn’t understand what he meant by that, but he supported her with one arm around her waist. Her legs were slightly parted, and he moved his hand past her garters and cupped the warmth of her bare thigh. Between her legs, she grew damp, and she tried to gather what was left of her self-control.

  If she let this go any further, it would end in marriage. There could be no other outcome. He was touching her intimately, and Heaven help her, she didn’t want him to stop.

  His palm moved to cup her wetness, and she cried out at the intense sensation. She drew her arms around his neck, unable to grasp any control at all.

  “I want you, Marjorie,” he whispered in the dark. “I want you naked in my bed. I want you every morning when I awaken. And I want to hold you when I fall asleep at night.” His words took apart her senses, and when he caressed her intimately, she felt a strong aching of pleasure. It made her arch against him, and she gasped as he moved his thumb against her hooded flesh.

  “William,” she breathed. She wanted him desperately, and her body would not be denied. He was gently pressing against her, in a rhythmic motion that spiraled deep within her womb. Her nipples were taut against her bodice, and she pressed against him, feeling the rise of pleasure.