A Christmas Ball

by Emily Bryan

  If only she could go back and do things differently. She’d tell him the truth. Surely the pain of being jilted could be no worse than what she felt now. She rather doubted it was any better, but at least it wouldn’t have the added weight of cowardice attached.

  Perhaps there was still a chance to fix things now. Perhaps she could write him a letter. On second thought, that seemed terribly impersonal, and it would be far too easy for him to dismiss her. Perhaps she could sneak away someday soon and visit his estate in person. It would be scandalous behavior, but she ached enough to simply not care. If scandalous would garner her a chance to win him back, scandalous she would be.

  As long as she could be that way without getting caught. There were still the Meldrins to consider, after all.

  “Miss Byerly? Miss Byerly.”

  Patience blinked, the sound of Mrs. Higgs’s insistent voice pulling her from her musings. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I asked if you might accompany me for a brief tour of the house.”

  “Oh. I…” A tour of someone else’s home? What was one to say to such an odd request? “Of course…um…you’ve visited before?”

  Virginia took her arm and led her away at a brisk pace, before Caroline could comment. “Oh, yes, many times.” She threw a glance over her shoulder as they exited the ballroom. “And I don’t really mean to give you a tour. There is something in one of the rooms I should think you’d like to see.”

  “Like to see? At Hartwell House?” She felt a small bubble of laughter form in her throat as they moved quickly down the hall. “What is it?”

  “A surprise.”

  Patience rather thought that was a given, but she held her tongue until she was led into the private family portion of the house. “I must say, Mrs. Higgs, this seems rather—”

  “Do call me Virginia.”

  “If you like, but—”

  “Here we are.” Virginia stopped suddenly and motioned to a wide set of doors.

  Bewildered, Patience pushed through one and stepped into a spacious room with a few bookcases, a large fireplace giving off a warm glow, and a scattering of comfortable seating arrangements. A family parlor, or an outsized study, Patience mused. She moved inside, fully expecting Virginia to follow. Instead, the woman paused in the open door and smiled at her. “Do you know, I believe I neglected to inform my poor Edward where I was going. Do excuse me. I shan’t be long.”

  “But…” Patience stared, wide-eyed and openmouthed, as Virginia briskly stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

  “What on earth?”

  Reeling, she gaped at the door for a moment, then tossed up her hands in utter disbelief and turned to seek a place to sit and wait. She’d taken no more than three steps into the room before the astonishment of being left alone in a strange room in the middle of a ball was replaced by the shock of discovering she wasn’t alone at all.

  William was there.

  She didn’t quite believe it at first, couldn’t believe that it was really him stepping out from the shadow of a bookcase near the fire. She was overtired, heartbroken, dreaming. She closed her eyes slowly and opened them again, fully expecting to find him gone.

  “Hello, Patience.”

  Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. He was real. He was there. “You…I…”

  “You’re well, I hope?”

  She wanted to run into his arms. She wanted to run away. She wanted to cry and laugh and demand to know what he was doing there. Most of all, she wanted the courage to do the things she’d thought of only minutes ago in the ballroom.

  William watched the play of emotions on Patience’s face. Even from afar he could see the shock, the delight, and the hurt.

  The need to touch her, to comfort, to breathe her in was nearly overpowering. He’d never missed another human being so much in his life. Every hour, every bloody hour, had felt like an eternity. The emptiness in his chest he had felt the night she’d left him had become a heavy weight soon after. And it had grown in size with each passing day.

  Regret, that was what the heaviness was. Regret that he’d let her go, that he hadn’t set aside his need to follow his bloody plans long enough to admit his need for her.

  He pushed aside instinct honed by years of training and admitted it now. “I’ve missed you, Patience…I need you.”

  He walked toward her, slowly at first, terrified she would turn and leave. But when she stepped toward him instead of away, he closed the remaining distance between them in three long strides and pulled her into his arms.

  “I missed you.” He bent his head and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her brows. “I missed you.”

  His lips wandered restlessly over her face. He couldn’t keep still, couldn’t stop himself from tasting her jaw, her chin, the tip of her nose. “Missed you.”

  He wanted to cover every inch of the face that had haunted his dreams, night after night, for the last four weeks. He wanted to kiss her until her body recognized, as his did, that they were made for each other. And he wanted to do it before she pulled away. He waited for that, for the painful moment when doubt and fear overtook her once more and she pushed him away.

  That moment never came.

  She trembled and sighed, clutching at his shoulders. “If we’re caught…I haven’t told you—”

  “Shhh. Door’s locked.” Virginia had seen to that, and to a maid keeping watch down the hall, expecting her impossibly reserved brother to do little more than talk to Patience.

  But William wasn’t at all inclined to be reserved at present, and his interests went beyond talking. Taking gentle hold of Patience’s face, he silenced her with his mouth. She was just as she’d been in the orangery—an intoxicating mix of sin and innocence. He wasn’t sure which he craved more, but he ached to take his fill of both.

  His mouth moved hungrily over hers, even as his mind told him to stop, to pull away before it was too late. The plan he’d outlined had involved kissing, a marriage proposal, and a promise from her never to leave him again. It did not involve taking her virtue.

  But there was nothing virtuous in the way Patience kissed him back—untutored perhaps, but not virtuous. Her mouth moved eagerly over his. Her arms wrapped around his neck in an almost desperate move to bring him even closer.

  His hands moved of their own accord to unbutton her gown, pausing just long enough to brush along the satin skin of her back. She shivered and moaned as the silk of her bodice loosened and slid down, exposing the ivory swell of her breasts.

  He allowed himself only one intoxicating moment to indulge in the exquisite softness of them before lifting her into his arms. Still kissing her mouth, her throat, her lovely bare shoulders, he carried her to a settee in a darkened corner of the room. He would have preferred—he certainly would have planned—to take the time to explore every part of her, to linger over every curve and plane. But he hadn’t the luxury of time, and suddenly, surprisingly, he found he didn’t want to plan or orchestrate anything. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to follow his heart and trust in the wonder of what unfolded before him.

  And, truth be told, a small, selfish part of him was grateful for the excuse to hurry. Desire was rushing through his blood with increasing force. It clawed at his skin, inflamed his senses, and demanded fulfillment.

  Their kisses became more urgent, their embrace more feverish. Clothing was pulled and shoved out of the way. Her glasses disappeared, his waistcoat was removed, his trousers slid down his hips. Someone said, “Hurry.” He sincerely hoped it was her.

  His palm trailed up the tight muscles of her calf and the soft skin of her thigh to find the heated flesh between her legs. She started at the touch, though whether from fear or pleasure it was impossible to tell.

  “Shh. Darling, let me.” He used deft fingers to soothe and arouse, until her whimpers became moans and her soft form tightened and strained beneath him.

  The sound and feel of her pleasure tore at his control.

  H
e pushed into her, regretting the pain he knew he caused, even as his body shuddered with pleasure. “I’m sorry. Darling. I’m sorry.”

  He kissed her tenderly then, until the fingers digging into the skin of his back relaxed and she let out a long, unsteady sigh.

  “Hurry.”

  This time, he was certain it was she who said it. It was all the urging he needed. With his jaw clamped tight with the effort to retain control, he began to move. Slowly at first, determined to be careful and their limited time be damned. But when she arched against him impatiently, her breath hitting his cheek in sharp pants, he quickened the pace.

  He lost all track of time after that, lost track of everything but the exquisite pleasure of Patience Byerly reaching for completion in his arms. When she found it, when she bucked and cried out softly, he reached for and found his own.

  Though he knew he was crushing her with his weight, it was several moments before he amassed the coordination needed to shift their positions. And in the confines of a small settee, the movement took some doing, but eventually he succeeded in pulling her atop him, her head nestled against his chest.

  He stroked a hand down her back. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded rather than answered, which made him a little nervous.

  “I hurt you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  She tilted her chin up to blink at him, her green eyes squinting adorably. “I’d rather you not apologize for anything at present.”

  “I should have waited. Given you a bed.” And a ring.

  “I didn’t want that.” She laid her palm against his cheek. “I wanted you. I hadn’t realized how much until…”

  “Until you left,” he finished for her. He took her hand to press a kiss to her palm. “Does that mean you missed me as well?”

  “Yes.” She laughed softly. “Every second of every day.”

  “You shouldn’t have gone.” He pressed another kiss to her hand. “Don’t leave again. Stay with me. Marry me.”

  A long, shaking sigh escaped from her lips. “I want to,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I want to.”

  The weight in his chest began to grow once again. Was he too late? Had he missed his only chance? “Want to, or will?”

  There was a long moment before she opened her eyes and spoke again. “I will. I will marry you if,” she said quickly, “if you still want me…after I explain why I left London.” She swallowed hard.

  It was tempting to tell her he’d already learned of her secret, but he knew it would be better for her, for both of them, if she found the courage to tell him herself. “All right.” He bent down to press another kiss to her forehead. “I’m listening.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, and shifted a bit. “Could we do this dressed? It might take a bit of time, and if someone were to find us—”

  “You’d have to marry me,” he finished for her. Not a terrible plan, really. Maybe he should have taken his time after all. Then again, that might have only resulted in the pair of them being discovered before he was ready to be caught.

  She laughed a little and shoved at his shoulder when he refused to loosen his hold of her. “William.”

  “Yes, all right.”

  He let go of her reluctantly, rose from the settee after she did, and helped put her gown to rights. He made an attempt to assist with her hair as well but found he couldn’t keep his fingers from running through the silky tresses. It added a certain level of difficulty to the endeavor.

  He wanted to take out the remaining pins and watch the locks fall to her shoulders. He wanted to see her hair spread out before him on a pillow. He wanted to know what it looked like wild and mussed after a night of passion. He wanted, he was tempted to—

  As if she could sense the tenor of his thoughts, Patience batted his hands away with a laugh. “Keep your plans to yourself for the time being, if you please.”

  He heaved a disappointed sigh and turned his attention to straightening his own attire. He ran into a spot of difficulty with his cravat.

  “Here, allow me.” Patience pushed one last pin into her hair and stepped forward to knot his cravat with the efficiency of an experienced valet.

  “Where did you learn to do that?”

  “From my father.” She gave her work a soft pat and stepped away. “Because of my father might be more accurate.”

  He tilted his head to catch her eye. “Part of what you need to explain?”

  “Yes, I…” She bit her bottom lip. “Oh, dear, I don’t know how to start.”

  “I believe the usual response to that is to start at the beginning.”

  She smiled a little, but there was no humor in it. “It might be easiest for me to tell you the worst of it first and be done with it.”

  He reached for her fidgeting hands. “Whatever it is, Patience, we’ll find a way—”

  The doors swung open before he had the chance to respond.

  “Patience?” Virginia rushed inside, noticeably out of breath. “I’m sorry. Mr. Meldrin is looking for you. I had my maid keep watch and—” She shook her head and crossed the room to grasp Patience’s hand and draw her to a trio of chairs near the light of the fire. “No time. Come here. William, sit there.”

  They’d only just arranged themselves in their seats when Mr. Meldrin arrived, a handful of footmen and maids trailing behind him. William had an unpleasant image of the man coming after him, glove in hand, to demand a duel, but it was short-lived. Mr. Meldrin spared him a brief nod, but he didn’t appear angry, merely worried. And the concern in his eyes was directed solely at Patience.

  She saw it as well, and rose unsteadily from her chair. “Mr. Meldrin?”

  “A message just arrived by special courier.” He crossed the room to place a hand on her shoulder. “Your father’s gone missing.”

  Chapter Ten

  Patience had known fear before. She was no stranger to guilt and regret. But until Mr. Meldrin had uttered the words, “Your father’s gone missing,” she’d never known true panic.

  The force of it was disorienting. It sucked the air from her lungs and tore a great hole in her chest. She felt her world spin and whirl while her mind leapt erratically from one thought to the next.

  What was she supposed to do now? She’d encountered a thousand difficulties with her father in the past, but he’d never just disappeared from his own house. It simply wasn’t something he did.

  She found herself looking helplessly from William to Mr. Meldrin. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Mr. Meldrin gave her arm a comforting squeeze. “We’ll find him, Patience. Lord Hartwell has offered whatever assistance is needed. But the staff and stables are overrun at present. It will take a bit of doing to ready the horses and bring them around.”

  She felt herself nod. “Yes, all right.”

  “I’ll see what I can do to hurry things along.”

  “Thank you.”

  She only half heard Mr. Meldrin leave with Virginia, and was only distantly aware that William continued to issue orders to the staff who came in and out of the room. But it was impossible not to notice when he stepped in front of her to tilt her chin up with his hand.

  “Now, would you like to tell me why I’m about to head off into the dead of a winter’s night to search for a grown man?”

  She dearly wished the question were rhetorical. It would be so much easier to answer truthfully if that were the case. No. No, I would not like to tell you. Instead, she pushed past the dizziness and fear and said in a voice so small she hardly recognized it as her own, “He’s mad. My father is mad.”

  To her amazement, he nodded once and lifted a hand to brush the backs of his fingers across her cheek. “Is he a danger?”

  “What? No.” She shook her head adamantly, then rather wished she hadn’t. It made the room spin unpleasantly. “No, he’s perfectly harmless. He is, I swear it. He’s just…he’s unable to take proper care of himself. He…why aren’t you shocked?”

  “I had a
discussion with Mr. Seager.”

  “You knew?” He’d known and still come for her? A pressure built behind her eyes. She tried to push it away. What good could possibly come from falling apart now? But the harder she grasped at control, the quicker it slipped away.

  “I’m sorry.” She felt the first tears spill over. “I’m sorry.”

  His strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her against the warmth of his chest. “It’s all right.” His hand stroked her hair, across her back. “Darling, don’t. Don’t cry. We’ll find him.”

  “That’s not…” Well, yes, it was a very large part of why she was crying; it just wasn’t the only part. “You’re not angry. You should be angry.”

  He pulled back a little and used the pad of his thumb to wipe away a tear. “Why should I be angry?”

  “For not telling you.” She hiccupped and swallowed back a new round of tears. “About my father.”

  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. “I’d rather you had, to be honest. It could have saved us weeks of torment.”

  “I—”

  “We can discuss it later. For now, we’ll concentrate on finding your father.” He tipped her chin up with his finger. “All right?”

  She took a shuddering breath and nodded.

  He stroked her hair once more before stepping back. “It’s nearly Christmas. Where might he think to go this time of year?”

  “Nowhere.” She wiped away the remainder of her tears. “He doesn’t like Christmas. He’s never wanted to celebrate it before. Not even when Mother was alive.”

  “Your mother,” he said thoughtfully. “Would he go somewhere that holds memories of her? Your childhood home?”

  “No, I don’t think so. It was not a love match. He took little interest in her, I think. In us. In everything but his work.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “He wasn’t unkind, just…distracted.” She sighed in frustration. “I don’t know where he’d go. I don’t know him. Not the man he was, or the man he is now. I know he’s changed. He never cared for company before, and now he can’t abide being isolated. He wants parties and attention. He gave me a birthday present last month, a book of his. I could scarcely believe it.”