All I Want for Christmas Is a Duke
Page 33
He raised his glass, and the rest of the company followed suit. The claret’s richness filled Patience’s mouth and warmed its way down her throat.
But Nathaniel wasn’t finished with his speech. “Lady Worthington and I have renewed our acquaintance, and I have discovered my feelings have not changed. If anything, they have grown stronger.”
His blue gaze captured hers. Nothing could make her look away. “I wish to rectify my mistake, here, tonight.”
Good heavens, what was he planning?
“I wish to beg Lady Worthington to make me the happiest of men and consent to be my duchess.”
Patience’s jaw dropped. All around her, the table erupted in sound—breathy sighs from the ladies, outrage from certain quarters, a possible cheer from her brother—but she could barely speak. Her heart had jumped into her throat.
He watched her with a confident smile, but some shadow behind his eyes told her he wasn’t altogether certain of her reply.
She took another fortifying drink in hopes that the other guests would attribute her reddened cheeks to the claret. “I hardly know what to say.”
“I should like your acceptance,” he said, his voice low, “but I will equally understand if you require some reflection.”
He was waiting. An entire roomful of guests waited for her answer. Despite their audience, she felt as if she was addressing him alone. “What you said . . . Do you believe it is possible to fall in love at first sight?” Heaven only knew, she’d believed it at one time.
He nodded. “I know it is.”
“But can that feeling last?” There it was—her real concern, because they would certainly have to overcome his family’s objections.
He took her hand, giving it a slight tug. “Don’t you think we’ve proven that?”
She resisted the pull of his grip, a silent plea to stand alongside him. “I mean for an entire lifetime.”
“That is what I intend to find out, for nothing will keep me from you again.” He raised his gaze to stare down the table at his mother and sister. “Nothing and no one.”
Patience, for her part, refused to look down the table. She did not need to see his family’s reaction. “Your sister led me to believe you had no true feelings for me.”
“She could not possibly have known what was in my heart then.” The love evident in his gaze filled her to brimming. She could not remain in her seat much longer, for the upwelling of emotion seemed likely to buoy her up to the ceiling. Higher. “No more than she does now.”
Patience rose to her feet, keeping her eyes on his. She might be giving her reply in public, but it was for him alone. “Then I should be glad to accept your proposal.”
“Another toast!” This from her brother. She turned to face a beaming Peter and Constance. “To the happy couple. And may their years and joys be long.”
Her lips stretched of their own accord. She didn’t think she’d ever stop smiling. All about the table, glasses raised. Even Diana and the dowager could not resist the appearance of not following the crowd, whatever their private feelings.
As the chorus of cheers and congratulations rose about them, Patience leaned closer to whisper in Nathaniel’s ear. “I should like to know one thing.”
“What is that?”
“Once I’m duchess, will I be permitted to tell certain people to bugger off? Even if they’re members of your family?”
His laughter rang over the noise of the other guests. “I would be especially disappointed if you didn’t.”
Epilogue
Kingsbury’s estate
Christmas 1817
THE ONE THING Patience could usually count on in the country was at least one good blanket of snow in the winter. When that snow coincided with the Christmas season, so much the better. She looked on today’s covering of white as a particularly auspicious sign. The upcoming year would be a good one.
Her hand in Nathaniel’s, she watched Oliver and Colin bound ahead through the frozen parkland and recalled a previous Christmas morning when she and Nathaniel had gone in search of greenery. This year, they had no such need, as the servants had already seen to the decoration of the manor house—mistletoe included. But this day had dawned too beautiful to waste.
One of the boys stooped and gathered a handful of snow, packing it into a furtive ball that he let fly at his brother. The other gave a shout, and battle soon raged.
Nathaniel smiled at them. “What do you say we join them?”
“It’s tempting, but given a choice I’d much rather pelt your sister.”
He nudged her. “Then you should have invited her for Twelfth Night.”
Plans were well underway for another lavish feast, minus a few conspicuous guests. “She’s perfectly welcome to attend, as long as she can promise to curb her tongue.”
Sadly—or perhaps not so sadly—Diana found it difficult to keep such promises. She’d refused to attend their wedding on principle, and every other attempt at reconciliation had proved fruitless.
Nathaniel let a plume of breath escape into the frigid air. “I doubt we’ll be seeing her any time soon, then. The woman is nothing if not tenacious.”
“I’d say tenacity runs in the family.”
He stopped in his tracks. “Are you comparing me to my sister?”
“In a sense. You’re two sides of the same coin. Your particular version of tenacity paid off in the end, I’d say.”
“If you mean to say I never gave up hope of winning your heart, I’m not completely certain you have the right of it. We might not have lost so much time if I’d exercised my ducal prerogative sooner.”
She leaned closer to whisper in his ear, lest her voice carry in the crisp air. “You mean the one where you tell people to bugger off?”
He grinned. “The same.”
“Think no more of it. Things worked out the way they were meant to in the end.” She glanced at the boys, safely shouting and laughing and ignoring their father. Excellent. “I think now is the perfect occasion to deliver your Christmas gift.”
He glanced at her empty hands. “You don’t happen to be hiding a snowball in your pocket, do you?”
“Not quite. But my gift isn’t visible just yet. This time next year, however, you’ll be able to see and hear it. I daresay you may even smell it if you don’t hand it off to the nursemaid fast enough.”
Once more, he stopped in his tracks, slack-jawed. “Are you saying . . . ?”
She looked up at him through her lashes. “I have good reason to believe you’ll be a father again by this time next year.”
In a perfectly undignified display, he let out a shout, threw his arms about her waist, and whirled her about. Just as quickly, he set her back on her feet and backed away, palms facing outward. “Your pardon.”
She burst out laughing. “I assure you my condition is not that delicate.” To prove it, she laced her hands behind his neck and pulled his lips down to hers. “We can even manage without mistletoe for now.”
“We always have,” he murmured before closing the final gap between them.
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author ASHLYN MACNAMARA writes Regency romance with a dash of wit and a hint of wicked. She considers writing her midlife crisis but reckons it’s safer than hang gliding or rock climbing. She lives in the wilds of suburbia outside Montreal with her husband, two teenage daughters, and one loudmouth cat. Although she writes about the past, you can find her in such newfangled places as her website, ashlynmacnamara.net, facebook.com/AuthorAshlynMacnamara, and twitter.com/ashlyn_mac.
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Copyright
This is a collection of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
“The Duke and Duchess Trap” copyright © 2015 by June Third Enterprises, LLC.
“Sophie and the Duke” copyright © 2015 by Tiffany Clare.
“The Duke’s Christmas Wish” copyright © 2015 by Vivienne Lorret.
“One Magic Season” copyright © 2015 by Ashlyn Macnamara.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition DECEMBER 2015 ISBN: 9780062441515
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062441539
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