A Cotillion Country Christmas

by Carolynn Carey

  “I admit it was, perhaps, bad timing on my part—”

  “Bad timing! On the contrary, you couldn’t have picked a better moment to inflict the maximum pain upon me!”

  “And I regret that but it had to be done.”

  She stood, shaking and flushed with agitation. “I disagree, sir. I did not deserve to be humiliated. And I ask again, what did I ever do to you?”

  He stood and gripped her shoulders, holding her despite her efforts to escape. “It’s really very simple. You made me fall in love with you.”

  “How dare you!” Her brown eyed hardened with fury. “I’ve done nothing to warrant your insults.”

  “I admit it may be a horrible shock but truly, I don’t mean it as an insult.” He gave her a small shake and held her gaze.

  The conflicting emotions in her eyes made him catch his breath. His grasp on her arms tightened.

  “You’re teasing me. You’re the Lord of Misrule and this is a terrible jest.” She tried to speak lightly and laugh but the sound broke in her throat.

  His heart nearly failed him at the naked hurt and need in her gaze.

  “Do you really believe, in your heart, that I lack seriousness?” he asked softly. He lifted one hand to brush the soft curve of her vulnerable cheek with his knuckles. “I never meant to bring you pain. If there had been any other way, I would gladly have taken it. But you wouldn’t listen to a boy of nineteen, so I had to do what I could to prevent your marriage until I was older. I had to make you wait—”

  “And you’re still too young to know your mind.”

  “I knew I loved you at sixteen.”

  “Don’t be a pudding-head.” She laughed and shyly touched the back of his hand, briefly pressing his palm against her face as if she couldn’t resist. “An infatuation, nothing more serious. You’ll grow out of it. You’re sweet but immature. Too young—”

  He gripped her shoulders again and shook her. “You see? What chance have I of convincing you? Is it any wonder I resorted to such drastic measures?” He pulled her firmly against his body and kissed her. His anger made him grip her too hard and he felt the faint rush of air as she gasped. Gradually, though, his embrace shifted as she leaned against him, seeking his warmth as he sought hers.

  He felt time stop in her arms.

  When he released her, she clutched the front of his jacket as if dizzy and reluctant to let him go.

  Although he knew he had yet to convince her, a surge of heated euphoria raced through him. If she could feel the intensity of his emotion, there might still be a chance…

  “I cannot—” she said with a sigh.

  “Accept that I know my mind? I know what I want, Caroline. The only remaining question is, what do you want?”

  She bit her lip as wariness clouded her eyes. “I-I don’t know. If I trust you—”

  “I will not break my word. Nor will I leave you at the altar, my love. If you have any doubts, I’ll use my power as Lord of Misrule to kidnap you and carry you to Gretna Green.” He gave her a devilish grin. “And I will not let you out of my sight for the entire trip.”

  She hid a half nervous, half excited giggle behind a trembling hand. “We could never do such a thing—unless Mrs. Pembroke could accompany us.”

  “Why not? Just one more Christmas Mishap in a long line of them. Your family has once again ignored you and is probably not even aware you’re missing unless they’ve already received my letter. And your sister and brother-in-law have also quite forgotten you.”

  “That’s cruel.” Her eyes brimmed with laughter.

  “But true.”

  “I wish it wasn’t. And I feel I should resent your words.”

  “Nonetheless, you don’t. And we are free to do as we please.” He caught her hands to hold her near. “It will be weeks before I can get a proper license and I’ve waited over five years for you. I will wait no longer. Say yes.”

  “Must I?”

  “I won’t release you until you admit you love me. And agree to be kidnapped.”

  “It hardly counts as a kidnapping if I agree.”

  “Caroline,” he growled with the barest self-control.

  “What will my sister think?”

  “Nothing. She’s too busy to even realize when you’re gone.”

  “Edward! You’re perfectly dreadful. How can you say such things?”

  “I’m still waiting.”

  “And you’re desperately cruel. But yes, yes you beast. I love you, though admitting it fills me with nothing but dread.” The deep glow of emotion in her eyes amply contradicted her flagrantly false claim of dismay.

  Then, she smiled and her warm laughter filled the room. The sound evoked such a strong sense of triumph in him that he could not master himself to speak.

  So in answer to her impertinence, he did the only thing he could. He lowered his head and found her mouth once more.

  Country House Christmas

  Barbara Miller

  Dedication

  For all those sentimental souls who keep Christmas alive throughout the centuries.

  Chapter One

  December 21, 1813, Devonshire, England

  Captain Richard Trent trotted his gray Andalusian past the cattle pastures toward the horse stable behind Halford Hall. It had been snowing the whole morning as he made a round of visits to his father’s tenants, inviting them to the Christmas afternoon fête. But a half foot of crisp snow was not enough to send him home early. His warhorse Timber had actually been enjoying his tour of the estate and with such a warm reception at each house, Richard was glad he’d done his father’s bidding in this case. It was better than staying indoors and suffering his sister-in-law’s frostiness.

  It amazed him that at twenty-six he was so much more inclined to take orders than he had been at twenty-one. But five years’ hard service in the Peninsula had shown him the wisdom of cooperation even if he did not particularly care about the outcome. It had been touching to witness the tenants all avoiding looking at his eye patch or the scar that marred his right forehead. Losing his sight in one eye had put a period to his military career. What good was an observing officer who had no depth of field? If he had stayed in Spain he could have clerked and felt even more useless than he did at this moment.

  He heard a commotion at the front door and rode around there to see who had arrived. A shabby carriage and team of job horses stood in the circle in front of the rose granite house. Before a single footman could get to the equipage, a slight girl in a forest green coat hopped out to pay the driver. Richard did not recognize her, though with her dark eyes and her long black hair waving around her face as it escaped from her bonnet, she was as pretty as any of the Spanish girls he had seen. Had his mother invited her as a marriage prospect for him? She’d been hinting broadly about him settling down like his brother Harry. Richard dismounted and walked his horse toward the carriage across the paving stones that had been swept clean by the servants.

  Then Lady Ellen Tierney stepped out of the equipage with almost as much alacrity as the girl. So the young woman in green must be Diana, younger sister to his brother’s wife. He dismounted and led Timber into the rush of servants who began unloading baggage. His parents must be waiting within to welcome Ellen and Diana. When the older woman saw him, she froze, then gave an icy smile and nodded.

  Before either could say anything, Diana finished haggling with the driver, turned and smiled. His heart skipped a beat. How could five years have made so much difference. She was enchanting, not a scrubby schoolgirl anymore but a beautiful woman.

  “Richard. That’s a new horse. From Spain?” she asked as she came to fondle the stallion’s nose.

  “How did you guess? He’ll ruin your gloves if you let him slobber on them.”

  “I have a bite of carrot for him,” she said, searching her pocket and finally producing the morsel which Timber accepted as his due.

  “You have not changed. You always had treats secreted about your person for the horses.”


  She glanced toward her mother who was mounting the front steps followed by a brace a footmen with their baggage. “I hide them for Toffee but I have enough for all. Are you heading to the stable? I’ll walk with you.”

  She fell into step beside him and he began to think she had only become more beautiful, not more mature.

  “When did you get home? Your mother wrote of expecting you but not that you had arrived.”

  “Ten days ago.” For some reason he felt nervous about being alone with Diana. “They will be looking for you inside.”

  “They know I will check on Toffee first.” She ran into the stable ahead of him to reach in over the half door to her favorite mare. A groom came to take Timber to cool him and Richard suddenly was not sure what to do with himself, so he scratched the mare’s ears.

  “She is keeping well for not being ridden much this month.”

  Diana went to distribute bits of carrots to the other horses, who plainly knew her and expected their share.

  “Where were you this time?” he asked.

  “Bath. Doing a likeness of Miss Delphinium Hammersmith.”

  In between her brief sentences her lush mouth was punctuated by dimples but they now made her look seductive rather than childish. Dear God, what was the matter with him, thinking of this child as though she was a light-skirt. He cleared his throat. “Was it a profitable trip?”

  “They paid me, if that’s what you mean. People in trade pay very well besides putting us up. You’d be amazed how many of the gentry regard my painting as a mere avocation and see no need to compensate me even for paints when I expressly tell them what the portrait is worth. I may have to resort to signed contracts.”

  She bit the tip of her gloved finger to pull her glove off one finger at a time. Richard stared at her hands entranced as she repeated this seductive act with the other glove. He realized he must be gaping like a ninny and looked away.

  “I am not amazed. Some of them don’t even pay their tailors, much less…”

  She propped her hands on her hips and glared. But that just made her mouth looked more passionate.

  “An itinerant artist.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  She laughed and it was as he remembered—her voice as clear as a bell ringing against the brick walls of the stable block. “Yes you did. You never approved of me doing miniatures, even though it is an honorable occupation for a lady.”

  “The only honorable one. But to be doing portraits.”

  “Oh, Richard, don’t be so stuffy.” She came and took his arm as she had in the old days when they had been friends and everything lay ahead, when he’d had a future.

  “They’re not nudes. I have to be doing something. I may as well support myself and Mother. Besides Angelica Kauffman was a painter of note and she was accepted in society.”

  “As a singularity. This is your home. There is no need for you to earn your keep.”

  “Only because my sister married your brother. And now we are summoned to Lucy’s third lying in within five years. Must they populate the earth so quickly?”

  He tried to stifle his laugh and failed. “Yes, I could not help but notice and wondered if we would still hold the public day on Christmas. When is the babe due?” He walked toward the house with her and was surprised to remember the strength of her grip.

  “I think around the first of the year. So we are to do our usual for the holidays? A Medieval feast for the tenants and their families on Christmas Day, then the servants have Boxing Day off while we subsist on cold fare. Usually I invade the kitchen and make tea water while I forage for provisions. It’s fun, like being on campaign.”

  “Except no one is shooting at you.” He laughed again but his voice sounded harsh to himself this time.

  “Yes, how thoughtless of me to bring up the war when I had not meant to. But at least you made it home safe and sound.”

  She patted his arm with her other hand in a way that made him feel fortunate perhaps. He was about to protest that he was half blind but realized that Diana would never regard that and perhaps he should not mind it so much either. She was right, he had much to be thankful for. “You need never work. Many women don’t you know.”

  She smiled and pulled him toward the house. “But I love fending for myself, whether it is making food or earning money painting. On that we shall never agree, so let us not disagree during the holidays, please, sir.”

  “Very well, a truce until after Twelfth Night. Then we must discuss your future.”

  Her smile disappeared and her delicious eyebrows drew together. “Now you sound like your father.”

  “Good Lord, I hope not. I take it he does not approve of your travels either.”

  A smile crept back to her lips. “Are you in terror that you may agree with him on something? He does not but he is supportive.”

  “And Mother?”

  “One of my best customers. Perhaps she thinks it will keep me here and out of scandal’s path. But I’m such a quick study with her landscape and still life assignments that I am making arrangements for new commissions even as I polish hers. I hope we are not late for luncheon.” She released his arm and ran up the back steps without his aid.

  “If you are, I am as well. We can raid the kitchen as you are wont to do.”

  Diana laughed and ran ahead of him down the hall very much as he remembered her. If was as though laughter vibrated through the girl like a spring of energy. For her to walk meant she was sad. Most of the time she ran.

  The butler was just taking her coat with a paternal smile when the other ladies of the house descended the stairs and filed into the dining room. Lucy, his extremely pregnant sister-in-law, looked away as she had since his arrival. He could not blame her. The eye patch was disquieting even to him when he greeted himself in the shaving mirror each morning.

  His father and brother Harry came out of the estate office and followed the ladies in to help seat them. Their places were the same as they had always been. “Is it just the family staying this year?” he asked. “No house party?”

  Lord Halford looked up and smiled. “Actually I invited Lord Hull and his family.”

  Richard glanced around the table. Since there were four vacant place settings he took it that the Hulls had been expected for luncheon. The snow-covered roads must have detained them. He was glad Diana was on his left so he could see her without turning his head. His blind eye blocked his view of Lucy and Harry so long as he didn’t turn right. Much as losing his vision had bothered him, it was useful in editing out people he had rather not face.

  “Also Vicar Dean will be dining with us a few times during the holidays,” his mother added. Richard thought Ellen Tierney smiled at that but perhaps she was just being polite.

  After the first course of dishes had been presented and the murmur of approval died down, Richard stole a glance at Diana. She was attending to his father’s description of the menu for the Christmas Day feast. His mother was asking if Lucy was quite well.

  He tried to convince himself it was all the same as before and they could go on like they had, but he realized that nothing was the same. The blackness of regret descended on him again and he had trouble paying attention to the chatter. He should never have come home. Of course Lucy in the presence of her husband and both families felt all the awkwardness attendant on sitting down to dinner with the brother she had jilted. Richard wondered why he could not marshal up anything but a vague sympathy for her. Though he had once expected her to marry him, he now realized that he had never felt anything for her but obligation.

  He glanced at the wall over the buffet and saw a landscape that was new. It was actually the view from the top of the hill, looking down on Halford Hall on a fine day in summer. “Yours?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Diana whispered. “The house is a veritable gallery of my work.”

  “That’s a compliment to you.”

  “Not when I am confronted by my mistakes at every turn
of the stair. By the way,” she confided. “Do you still have that miniature Mother had me paint for you of Lucy?”

  “I’m embarrassed to say I dropped it in the Coa River on my way through Spain.”

  Diana laughed and picked up her wineglass. “Don’t feel bad. It wasn’t my best work.”

  “Apparently neither was my courting of your sister.”

  She choked on a sip and started to laugh. “I should have remembered that about you.”

  “What?”

  “That it’s never safe to eat or drink in your presence.”

  “Richard up to his old tricks?” Lord Halford inquired. “I say, this is like old times.” He rubbed his hands together.

  Richard’s father had always loved Christmas with a childish glee that infected the whole household. If Richard could not join in it, he had better at least pretend to appreciate it.

  * * * * *

  “Was there ever anything so strained?” Diana asked Richard as she set out her box of paints on the work table in the plant conservatory. Though the rest of the house tended to be drafty, the orangery was as warm as spring and smelled of fecund earth and growing things. Had Richard been any other man sitting for a portrait, Diana’s mother would have been knitting in the corner to chaperone them. But Diana and her mother had been residents at Halford Hall so long that no one thought Richard a danger even to Diana’s reputation. Plus she had always treated him cavalierly as though there could never be anything between them than a brother-sister sort of camaraderie.

  “You felt it too?” he said as he stood near the door to the outside dismembering a palm leaf.

  “Yes, everyone avoided talking about the subject uppermost in their minds, and stop massacring my backdrop foliage.”

  “I don’t see why you want to take my likeness now.”

  “I don’t. It is your mother’s idea to give me employment. Besides, you were always too busy before. This is your first visit home in five years. She wants me to capture you now.”

  “I should leave.”