A Cotillion Country Christmas

by Carolynn Carey

  “Thank you. I will always remember you from them.”

  “Remember me? You talk as though we are to be parted.” He rested his hands on her shoulders in concern.

  “Miss Hull talks as though we are. She means to have you.”

  “So did the French but I evaded them. I am a master at it.”

  “I keep forgetting that you are a man who can think for himself.”

  She raised her face to him and he kissed her forehead.

  “Do not worry about Miss Hull. I will never ask her to marry me.”

  “Good. I do not want you to be unhappy now that you are safe again.”

  A strange look came into his face and he bent his head and brushed her lips with his. As though he were asking a question. Diana dropped her brush and leaned into him, worried she might get paint on his coat but wanting more of his kisses. Suddenly his arms enfolded her and the kiss was desperate, a joining such that she felt his energy flow into her like a warm river of love washing away any doubts she had about her feelings or his. When they stopped for breath she embraced him and laid her face against his chest where she fancied his heart beat faster than usual.

  “Oh Richard, I’m so sorry what my family has done to you.”

  He paused and asked breathlessly, “What do you mean?”

  “It must have been my mother’s conniving that ruined your life.”

  “I assure you I ignored all her stupid plans for wedding Lucy to me.”

  “But she sent you away so Lucy could have Harry. She almost got you killed.”

  He laughed shakily. “You’re out there. I never so much as spoke to your mother that last week.”

  “You went so that Harry could have Lucy. My mother cost you five years of your life.”

  “I was my choice to spend those years in Spain. Ellen had nothing to do with it.”

  When he was about to reach for her hair the door rattled and Lord Halford called to him.

  “Your father,” she whispered.

  They sprang apart and Diana stooped to pick up the brush while Richard strode stiffly back to his seat by the orange tree.

  “How is it coming?” Lord Halford asked.

  “Almost finished,” Diana said breathlessly.

  “Wonderful. It’s a good likeness. Where shall we hang him?”

  “That sounds so fatal,” Richard jibed.

  “Perhaps we should leave that up to Richard. I can’t see him in the gallery somehow.”

  “What about in here?” Richard spun to look around the cozy room. “There is no other art.”

  “Time to decide later. “His father gazed at the portrait again. “I am pleased with this. Has Lady Halford seen it yet?”

  “There has not been time. For the moment I should clean up and ask after Lucy.”

  “Yes it is almost teatime. Lord Hull is boiling the water and I have raided the larder for cakes.”

  Diana felt doubly embarrassed at being intimate with Richard, since the family all trusted them and now she had deceived Lord Halford. She was in the main hall when she was almost bowled over by Harry on his way to the stable. “Is she indeed in labor?”

  “Yes, finally I am going for the doctor. The midwife agrees the baby is really coming. Make yourself useful.”

  She mounted the steps to the sounds of moaning and rapped on her sister’s door.

  Her mother flung it open. “Has Harry gone?”

  “Yes. He should be back within the hour.”

  “She’s resting again.”

  “I need to ask you something.”

  “About childbirth?”

  “No, about Richard.”

  “What?”

  “When you said you were glad Lucy married Harry instead of Richard, did you mean you did nothing to make that happen.”

  “What could I have done? It was out of my hands. The first thing I knew Richard was gone and our plans were all dashed on the rocks. If Harry had not proposed to Lucy she might have been on the shelf. Not very fair to you, though. Harry was supposed to be yours.”

  “So you were upset that Richard took the commission.”

  “Yes, at the time but it has all turned out for the best. If Richard never marries then Edwin will inherit.”

  “And if Richard does marry?”

  “Are you worried about that Hull chit? Don’t. Richard sees right through her.”

  “No, I’m not worried at all. Except about Lucy.”

  * * * * *

  Diana stared about the drawing room from her chair by the fire. There was no music tonight, though this was the one night they might have appreciated it drowning out Lucy’s moans and screams. Harry and her mother were with her. Hull and his son were playing billiards. The women were gathered by the fire and Richard played chess with his father. Diana found herself hemming a blanket that her mother had thrust on her presumably to give her something to do. Later Richard and his father tried to play cards. After one scream from above Lord Halford dropped the deck and cards shot everywhere.

  “I need a drink.”

  “I think we all need a drink,” Richard agreed.

  So it had not been her mother. Not only did she have Richard’s assurance but her mother’s as well. Diana began to doubt her sanity. Had she dreamed that conversation in the box hedge? And why hadn’t she eavesdropped to more purpose and found out who Richard had been talking to? If it wasn’t his mother or her mother, then it had to be Lucy, the only other woman in the house who could have had a stake in who went to war. But why would she deliberately send away the heir, the heroic Richard, unless she assumed he would not come back and she would get to be Lady Halford as the wife of the much more manageable Harry.

  She felt sick. If she had qualms about facing Richard before, when she assumed her mother had warned him off, how could she ever look him in the eye when her own sister had nearly got him killed? Harry came down then and motioned for her to follow him. When she got to Lucy’s room she sat by the bed and took her sister’s hand.

  “Why did you ask for me? I just annoy you.”

  “I think I might die this time.”

  “Lucy, you have had two other children. I’m sure you will be fine.”

  “But if I do, I go without absolution.”

  “You want to see a clergyman?”

  “No I want you to carry my apology to Richard. You are the only one I can trust to understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “How much I love Harry. I never cared about the title. I just wanted Harry. I asked Richard not to marry me because I wanted Harry so badly. I did not realize he would leave.”

  “You sent him away!”

  “I did not mean to. Please Diana, ask him to forgive me.”

  “I will ask him but I feel sure he already has.”

  “His poor face and eye. I feel like a murderer.”

  “He does not regard that. Be easy in your mind. Do you want to see him?”

  “No, I could not, not like this.”

  “I will be back. Rest easy about this.”

  “Rest easy?”

  When Diana returned to the drawing room Richard was gone but the back door was unlatched and as she guessed, he was pacing in the snow blowing a cloud of cigar smoke into the night air.

  “What is it?” Richard asked but he had never seen Diana’s face look so desperate before. “You’ll freeze out here with no cloak.”

  He tossed his cigar away as she came to him and he enfolded her in his arms.

  “Lucy wants your forgiveness for sending you away.”

  “Lucy was never to speak of that to a soul.”

  “Well she has not except to me. Only say you forgive her even if you don’t mean it. Otherwise I think her mind may go unbalanced.”

  “Of course I forgive her if there is anything to forgive. I have to admit I received her dismissal with the greatest relief. I did not want to marry her either.”

  Diana looked up at him. “What? Why not?”

  “I was not i
n love with her.”

  “And now?”

  “And now I love you. I’ve been almost afraid to say it for fear of receiving one of your famous setdowns.”

  “I am not famous for being rude. I am often amazed at my own restraint.”

  “I know I’m older than you but we always got along.”

  “We never got along. We are too much alike.”

  “Do you have any reservations about marrying me other than our occasional arguments? Give me the truth.”

  “Only that you might, in your Galahad-ish way, just be asking me to marry you to keep me from roaming the countryside in search of commissions.”

  “Oh, I had not thought of that.”

  “But you would have eventually. The other reason is guilt.”

  “Why should I feel guilty?”

  “I was speaking of my guilt not yours.”

  “I am nonplused. You have never wronged me.”

  “But my sister has.”

  “No one wronged me. I was the one who wanted to save Harry’s reckless life and it’s all turned out well.”

  She leaned against him with a great sigh. He stroked her back. “Well, what is it to be? Do you hate the sight of me?”

  She gripped his arms and looked up at him watching the snow start to fall again on him like a blessing. “I have always loved you. But you were forbidden fruit, reserved for Lucy.”

  He groaned and kissed her for many minutes, then realized she was trembling. He stripped off his coat and placed it round her shoulders like a royal cape, then kissed her again.

  “Look, no mistletoe,” she said, gazing at the dancing snowflakes against the velvety black sky.

  “That is for those poor mortals who need help falling in love. We have managed it in spite of the interference of our families. Let us never listen to them again. I think we are wiser than all of them.”

  “And luckier by far.”

  The back door sprang open and they leaped apart.

  “So there you are,” Harry said. “Father and Lord Hull are making hot punch in the drawing room, I think, to take everyone’s mind of the noise. You should come in.” Surprise registered in Harry’s face. He must have realized how it was with them.

  “And I have a message to deliver,” Diana said. She danced up the steps, then stopped and flung Richard’s coat at him.

  Harry laughed. “What a mad girl. Were you two kissing?”

  “Yes, we have discovered that we suit rather well, in spite of arguing at every possible turn.”

  “I always wondered if you had hard feelings about me marrying Lucy. Let me be the first to wish you happy.”

  “And I always wondered if you resented me stealing your commission.”

  “I had wanted to go until Lucy told me how she felt, that she loved me and not you.”

  “Ah if only we had talked.” Richard patted Harry on the back as they went inside. He could smell oranges and rum along with some spices. It all reminded him of holidays past in the Peninsula and here. Most of all it reminded him of Diana, the one constant in his universe.

  “This is not the time, Diana,” her mother said at the doorway.

  “But I have a message from Richard.”

  “Mother leave us,” Lucy said in a strangled voice.

  After their mother exited, Diana took her sister’s hand. “I spoke to Richard. He was relieved when you jilted him. He was only going to marry you out of obligation. He truly did want to have some time apart from his father and Halford Hall.”

  “Are you sure? He isn’t just saying that because he thinks I’m dying?”

  “No. In fact we are to be married. Richard and I. I’ve always loved him.”

  “You never said.”

  “How could I? I was just a child. Now we seem to be perfect for each other.”

  “So I can die happily. Say goodbye to everyone for me.”

  “No, you are not permitted to die. You have a whole life to live, though I think this should be your last pregnancy.”

  “Quickly, go get the midwife. I think it’s finally coming.”

  * * * * *

  An hour later a peaceful silence had fallen over the house. The men had consumed the punch and waited. Harry jumped up finally. “I can’t stand it any longer.” He nearly collided with Diana in the doorway.

  “The babe is here and it’s a girl.”

  “They are well, both of them?” Harry asked.

  “Yes, as far as we can tell. You can see them now.”

  “A girl. No wonder it took so long.” Harry dashed into the hall and up the stairs.

  “What is that supposed to mean? All women are not late. I myself am very punctual.”

  Lord Halford rose and embraced her. “I fear you are the exception, dear Diana.”

  “I am for bed,” Lord Hull said. “It’s snowed a few more inches.”

  Richard glanced out the window. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “Don’t stay up too late you two,” his father warned, “not without a proper chaperone, though we left that a bit late. Oh, Richard told us about your engagement, Diana. I could not be more delighted.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She kissed him on the cheek then turned to her intended. “Well, I see you rushed your fences on that one. Afraid I might cry off as well.”

  “Harry would have blurted it out if I had not. Come, sit for a while and watch the fire. The first of many evenings we can spend together like this.”

  “I wish I had talked to you before you left. I have spent years thinking my family ruined your life.”

  “When it was what I wished. I could never have been content at Halford Hall ’til I saw some of the world. Now I look forward to working for Father on the estate. I’ve already thought of one or two projects I would like to suggest but not yet, not ’til after the festivities are over.

  “So there was never anything to forgive.”

  “The importance of forgiveness isn’t just absolution for the one who thinks they offended but peace in everyone’s heart.”

  “Your father is happy because he thinks I will cease my wanderings and settle down. Do you expect me to?”

  “Hah. Little does he know we will both travel so you can do your commissions and I will be your fee collector.”

  “I see a lucrative career before me but I do hope to spend a good part of the year here, especially the holidays.”

  “Yes, there is no place I would rather be.” He held her then on the sofa until the logs had burned down to a warm glow that lulled them close to the edge of a dream full of wonder at their own bliss.

  About Cynthia Moore

  Reading played an important role in my life from an early age. Much of my childhood was spent at the local library scouring the shelves for the next batch of 20 books to read and return in two weeks. Even today, I am rarely without a book. Many of my friends know me as the “book a day lady”.

  My love of reading naturally led to a need to tell my own stories. I began with poetry and short stories. Then after my daughter was born, I continued with bedtime stories which I made up as I went along. With my discovery of Regency romance novels in 1987, I found a genre that provided me with ideas for many possible stories and the tools to complete my first full-length novel.

  My free time is spent making quilts by hand. I also travel frequently and visit my nineteen-year-old daughter, who is attending film school in California. My husband and I live in a suburb of San Diego, California.

  Cynthia welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

  Also by Cynthia Moore

  Lady Emeline’s Remedy

  About Carolynn Carey

  Carolynn Carey has had a lifelong love affair with the written word. She started (and quickly abandoned) her first novel in elementary school. In high school she was editor of the school paper and worked after school for the weekly newspaper in the rural county where she grew up. In college she majored in jo
urnalism and again worked on the school newspaper. Her career didn’t deviate much from her earliest love: She has been an academic editor for her entire working life.

  Fiction writing had always been a dream for Carolynn, one that stayed a bit out of reach until she decided to become serious about learning the craft. She joined the Romance Writers of America and then a local chapter of RWA. It took a few years of writing and learning, but she is now an award-winning author.

  Carolynn is married and has one daughter, who also loves the written word. No telling where that might lead!

  Carolynn welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

  Also by Carolynn Carey

  Compromising Situations

  Lily for a Day

  About Amy Corwin

  Award-winning author Amy Corwin is an insatiable reader and a compulsive writer. She joined the Romance Writers of America at its inception and plunged into writing despite the time-wasting annoyances of a career as an enterprise systems administrator in the computer industry. She writes Regencies, paranormals, and mysteries, although to be truthful, most of her books include a bit of murder and mayhem since she discovered that killing off at least one character is a highly effective way to make the remaining ones toe the plot line.

  Amy lives in the country and deeply regrets not habitually carrying a camera. Without photographic evidence, no one believes she ran over a twenty-pound barracuda lying in the middle of her road; saw a hot-air balloon land in her front yard; and found a dairy cow thoughtfully trimming the grass at her mailbox. She wishes she’d had also had a rope when she discovered the cow because she could have used the cow poo for her rose bushes, which currently number well over 100.

  Her wildlife biologist husband, two chocolate labs, chow-mix dog, two cats, and who knows how many chickens enjoy the temperature climate on thirty acres near the coast of North Carolina.

  Amy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.