A Christmas Ball
Page 27
If she hadn’t been working herself into a rant, she might not have missed his startled expression, or heard the wince in his voice. “Birthday?”
“It’s in June, but that’s not the point. He’s never given me a present before. He’s never remembered my birthday. The week before that, he handed me an old fob and told me to pay the butcher.” She threw up her hands. “Do you know what I would have given for him to take an interest in our finances two years ago? He paid no heed to the limits of his income. He spent every penny on his workshop. I had to sell off our lives in bits and pieces just to put food on the table, and then resort to accepting charity from old friends. And suddenly, years too late, he’s willing to sacrifice his precious science?”
“You’re angry.”
“I’m not. I’m…” She trailed off, noticing for the first time that there were tears burning at the backs of her eyes again. “I am. I hadn’t realized.”
“You’ve a right, if you were struggling and he refused to help.”
“No. No, he’d just forget. I’d explain that we couldn’t afford some new bit of equipment and he’d agree. And then he’d forget. He was always forgetting. Perhaps…” She blew out a long breath. “Perhaps he’s always been a little mad, and I hadn’t wanted to see it.”
William wasn’t given a chance to respond. A maid appeared at the door. “My lord, the horses are ready.”
Already exhausted, she followed William from the room and found Mr. Meldrin and several grooms waiting at a side door to the house.
“Take the east and west roads,” William instructed two of the grooms as they stepped out into the night air. “Mr. Meldrin, if you’ll go south, I’ll search north. Any sign of—”
“Beggin’ pardon, milord,” one of the grooms interrupted. He pointed into the darkness. “Rider coming.”
Patience squinted into the darkness and saw the dark figure galloping toward them.
“Another messenger?” someone ventured.
It wasn’t another messenger. Patience’s breath quickened. Even with distance and darkness between them, she knew her father.
“Papa!”
She raced forward and had hold of the horse’s reins the moment her father reached her. “Papa, are you well? Are you hurt?”
“Hurt?” Sir Franklin Byerly hopped down from his horse with a surprising agility. “Why should I be hurt?”
She gripped his face in her hands and searched for signs of injury. Other than being red-nosed and out of breath, he appeared in perfect health. “You left…it’s cold. We didn’t know where you were and—”
“Should’ve been here,” he grumbled and handed the reins over to a groom. “Left without me, don’t you know. The lot of them left without me.”
She clung to him, even as she pulled him toward the house. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Ah, now, don’t trouble yourself. Found my own way, didn’t I?” He turned to blink out at the darkness behind him. “Might have gotten a bit lost along the way.”
The idea of that, of her father lost and confused on some desolate road or in London, sent a chill of horror along her spine. “What were you thinking, riding out by yourself?”
“Grown man, aren’t I?” He looked up and smiled cheerfully at the group of men still standing at the door. “Are we all here, then?”
William discreetly took hold of her father’s elbow and helped usher him inside. “Mr. Byerly, you’re well?”
“Sir Franklin Byerly, my good man,” her father corrected.
He slanted a questioning look at Patience, but it was Mr. Meldrin who answered. “Knighted for his work in magnetism.”
“Goes ’round,” her father informed William.
“Does it, indeed?” William smiled at her father as if his comment made complete sense. “I hadn’t realized…Mr. Meldrin, I believe Lord Hartwell won’t mind the continued use of our private little room, but would you be so kind as to—?”
“I’ll see to it.”
While William continued to issue orders to the staff, Patience bustled her father into the room they’d just vacated, wrapped him in blankets, and set him in front of the fire. He turned to look at her as she fussed over him, and his face suddenly showed surprise, as if he’d quite forgotten she’d been at his side since he arrived. “Ah, Patience! Wonderful to see you, child. Wonderful to see you.” He patted her cheek. “Be a dear and fetch your father a cup of tea.”
She nodded toward a maid who had just arrived with a tray. “Just a dollop of cream, please.”
While the maid served her father, William took her arm and gently pulled her a few steps away.
“So, this is the man who’s kept us apart,” he said quietly. “The reason you thought I might reconsider my offer of marriage.”
The mention of their earlier discussion had her eyes darting to the settee in the darkened corner of the room and the heat rushing to her cheeks. Had that really happened just a short time ago?
She pulled her eyes away to look to William. “They say madness is a result of weak blood, that it shouldn’t be passed on, and that men like my father should be kept in an asylum.”
He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. “They also say high foreheads are a sign of intelligence, and that taking the water at Bath is good for the constitution.”
“Aren’t they? Isn’t it?”
“I’ve met many a twit with a high forehead, and I don’t know that I’ve ever felt particularly well after drinking the water at Bath.” He took her hand in his. “What I do know, Patience, is that I love you. I adore you. I cannot imagine spending one more day without you.” He waited a beat before smiling wryly. “It’s generally preferable to have one’s proclamation of love met with a similar declaration.”
She couldn’t help laughing just a little. “I do love you.” She took a quick glance to be certain her father wasn’t watching, then stood on her toes to press a kiss to William’s mouth. “I’ve loved you from the very start.”
The breath he took was a trifle shaky, but there wasn’t even a whisper of hesitation to his smile. “Bit rash, that.”
“Yes.” She laughed. “It was, rather.”
“I’m glad for it.”
“I am as well.”
Her father chose that moment to remind them of his presence. “Where the devil is the Yule log?”
“Papa?”
“Can’t have Christmas without a Yule log.”
“It’s several days yet before—”
“And some wassail.” He pulled a face. “Can’t abide the stuff, myself, but it is tradition, after all.”
“The thing is, Papa…the thing is…” She looked to William, who proved to be no help at all.
“You’re absolutely right, Sir Franklin.” William nodded. “We should indeed have a Yule log.”
Patience started and blinked. “William—”
“And wassail.” He stepped over to the bell pull and gave it a decisive tug. “Any other requests?”
“William, this really isn’t necessary.”
“It is,” he told her in a resolute tone. “You told me once you’ve always wanted a Christmas tradition.”
“Yes, but—”
“Traditions have to begin somewhere.” He grinned suddenly and swept her into her arms, ignoring her small noise of protest and struggle to free herself before someone walked in or her father made a fuss. “We’ll start our traditions here. An early Christmas celebration every year. With all the trimmings. I’ll even bring in a bucket of water and apples for you, if you like.”
“I don’t need—”
“We’ll exchange gifts.” He tapped the edge of her spectacles gently. “A new pair of these to begin with”
Keeping hold of her with one arm, he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a small box. He flipped open the lid with his thumb to reveal frames for a new pair of spectacles. “It wasn’t possible to include the lenses, I’m afraid,” he told her. “But I hoped the se
ntiment…”
“They’re perfect,” she whispered. “As is the sentiment.”
“You can have whatever you desire for Christmas when you’re Lady Casslebury.” He bent his head a bit to look down at her. “You will be Lady Casslebury?”
Patience ceased caring if they were seen embracing. What did it matter now? She took the box from him, grinned, and stood on tiptoe to press a kiss against his mouth. “There’s nothing I desire more.”
He drew the kiss out a bit longer before pulling away. “When the wassail arrives, we’ll toast to our first family Christmas.”
“Family Christmas!” Sir Franklin Byerly said suddenly. He took a long sip of his tea, settled himself more comfortably in his chair, and smiled into the fire. “Important things, families. Important things.”
William looked down into the green eyes of the woman he planned on spending every day of his life falling more in love with. “I couldn’t agree more.”
A Christmas Ball
JENNIFER ASHLEY
“Enthralling and poignant…Ashley touches readers on many levels.”
—RT Book Reviews (Top Pick) on The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie
“A deliciously dark and delectably sexy story of love and romantic redemption that will captivate readers with its complex characters and suspenseful plot.”
—Booklist on The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie
EMILY BRYAN
“Bryan has a great handle on the material and her characters, creating a charming, colorful story with an intricate, fast-paced story line.”
—Publishers Weekly on Distracting the Duchess
“Wickedly witty writing and wonderfully entertaining characters are the key ingredients in Bryan's sinfully sexy historical romance.”
—Booklist on Distracting the Duchess
ALISSA JOHNSON
“With its delightfully original characters and writing that sparkles with sharp humor, Johnson's debut historical romance is [a] triumph of wit and passion.”
—John Charles, Chicago Tribune on As Luck Would Have It
“Rapier wit and comedic timing lure readers into a romance that proves laughter is best shared with those you love.”
—Kathe Robin, RT Book Reviews on Tempting Fate
Copyright
A LEISURE BOOK®
October 2009
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
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New York, NY 10016
A Christmas Ball copyright © 2009 by Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
The Longest Night copyright © 2009 by Jennifer Ashley
My Lady Below Stairs copyright © 2009 by Diana Groe
Traditions copyright © 2009 by Alissa Johnson
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