“Splendid!” Coming toward him, a victorious smile on her face, Christine whispered, “This is going exactly as planned.”
Again, they stood up for a cotillion.
“Clumsy oaf?” Wesley asked with raised brows as the steps brought them together.
“What?” Pretending to frown at him, Christine pressed her lips together as the corners of her mouth strove upward. “It was the spur of the moment. You are not truly saying that I’ve offended you, are you? I had no idea you were so sensitive where your dancing skills are concerned.”
Shaking his head, Wesley laughed before he remembered where he was. However, neither William nor Catherine seemed to be aware of anything but each other. Only his mother cast him a disapproving frown.
When the music finally came to an end, Wesley waited, eyes expectantly trained on Christine. After all, she was the master mind behind this plan.
“How about a waltz?” she suggested, the look in her eyes an open challenge to his self-control.
Wesley swallowed, then glanced at his mother as she grumbled something unintelligible.
Unaffected, Christine strode over to the pianoforte, and after exchanging a few quick words, his mother turned back to the instrument and began to play.
Smiling at Christine in admiration, Wesley offered her his hand. As she took it, he pulled her close, delighted with the soft gasp that escaped her. “Have you thought this through?” he asked as he led her around the ballroom.
“Although you might not believe me,” she snapped, a hint of annoyance in her voice, “my plans are always thought through. I do not make them up on a whim.”
Smiling, Wesley shook his head. “I didn’t mean your plan.”
For a second, a frown drew down her brows before a disarming smile curled up her lips. “I see. Well, then let’s just say I am willing to sacrifice my comfort in order to ensure my sister’s happiness. Is that enough of an answer for you?”
“Your comfort?” Wesley mocked. “Is it such a burden to dance with me?”
Smiling, she shook her head at him. “What kind of an answer were you hoping for, Wes? That the feel of your hands on me is robbing me of every sense of right and wrong? That I’m about to lose control?”
Holding her gaze, Wesley shrugged. “Why not? It’s how I feel.” Then he froze. Had he truly just said that? Good God, what would she think of him now?
* * *
Staring up into Wesley’s eyes, unguarded and brutally honest, Christine felt her knees go weak, and for a moment, she thought she would stumble. However, his arms held her, safe and warm, and guided her around the room without effort.
Who was this man? She wondered. Everything was fine, everything was going according to plan, and then he would say something like…and then she would feel as though…
Shaking her head to clear it, Christine forced a smile on her face. “Do not mock me, Wesley Everett,” she croaked, hoping that her voice sounded less affected to his ears than it did to her own. “You only seek to unsettle me because you never believed I could be right. And now that William and Catherine are so close to falling in love all over again, you feel the need to put me in my place. Is that not so?” Swallowing, she forced her eyes up.
A smirk came to his face as he looked down at her, the initial hint of shock gone, replaced by the usual twinkle of amusement. “I apologise,” he said, and her eyes narrowed. “Do not look so suspicious. Yes, you were right. There, I admit it. Can we move past this now? Not everything I say is meant as criticism. I wish you could believe that.”
“But−” About to object, Christine stopped when the music came to an end.
Wesley bowed to her formally, then turned his head, and a smile lit up his face as he found William and Catherine still twirling around the dance floor. “Will!” he called his brother’s name, who almost flinched before he turned around, eyes annoyed by the interruption. “What is it?” he snapped.
Wesley chuckled. “The music has stopped.” He stepped toward his brother, whose face turned pink with embarrassment. “From where I stand, you’re quite a talented dancer and in no need of further practise.”
Forgotten was her own confusion at Wesley’s renewed revelation as she watched her brother-in-law glance at her sister before his eyes shifted to her. He loved her. Christine knew it to be true the second he almost fled from the room.
Instantly, Wesley went after him.
“Is something wrong?” Catherine asked, her eyes big as she walked up to Christine. “I didn’t notice…What happened? I don’t understand. We were just dancing. Why would he−?”
Shaking her head, Christine hugged her sister. “The music had already ended, and you were still dancing.” She pulled back and looked at her. “You didn’t notice?”
Clasping both hands over her mouth, Catherine laughed. “I did not.”
“Neither did he,” Christine said. “Did I not tell you that you needed to dance with him? Mark my words: the Christmas Ball will solve all your problems.”
Catherine frowned. “The Christmas Ball? Why is that?”
“Let me worry about that,” Christine said, once again glancing at the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see what’s going on.” Then she strode from the ballroom in search of the brothers. For some reason, she couldn’t keep still. She had to know what was going on.
As she came upon the parlour, voices echoed to her ear. Instantly, Christine stopped, then proceeded quietly until she stood with her ear pressed to the door that fortunately had been left ajar.
Inside, she could hear William pacing the floor, his shadow occasionally falling over the gap in the door. “Before we got married,” he began, his voice strained as though he was at the end of his rope, “did you court Catherine as well?”
Christine frowned. Why was William jealous of his brother?
“What?” Wesley’s voice cut through the room. “What gave you that idea?” Although he sounded honestly surprised, Christine thought to detect a hint of guilt in his voice.
“I don’t know. You look at her as though…”
A moment of silence hung over the room, and Christine finally realised that she had misunderstood. William accused his brother of having feelings for her, Christine, because he believed her, Christine, to be his wife and…Drat! This whole plan was truly confusing!
“As though what?” Wesley pressed, his voice calm once more.
Listening intently, Christine waited. What would Wesley tell his brother? He couldn’t possibly confess his feelings even if they were true? But were they? She couldn’t help but wonder.
“As though you care for her,” William finished, a clear question ringing in his voice.
“Of course, I care for her,” Wesley confirmed. “She’s family. She’s my sister-in-law.”
That was not exactly what Christine wanted to hear, and yet, she understood that he couldn’t possibly tell the truth. Whatever it was!
Again, William paced the floor. “You don’t look at her like a brother does,” he insisted. “You look at her the way I…” He broke off.
Another moment of silence hung about the room before hurried footsteps came toward her. By instinct, Christine jumped aside.
A moment later, William came storming out of the parlour. Not seeing her, he rushed up the stairs to his chamber.
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve − A Proposal Repeated
The next few days passed rather quickly as Christine was busy with preparations for the Christmas Ball. Since Catherine was too preoccupied with thoughts of her husband and neither of the brothers nor their mother showed any interest in readying their wardrobe for the night in question, Christine graciously took it upon herself to choose masks and matching gowns for her sister as well as herself.
Although the dowager countess was always well informed, she tended to stay indoors whenever the temperatures dropped to allow for snow and could not be persuaded to change her mind with regard to the Christmas Ball.
It was just as well. Christine thought. She’d rather not have the old woman’s watchful eyes criticising her every move.
Despite the general merriment of the season, Christine had to admit that the dream-like glow that had come to her sister’s face during the dance rehearsal was dimming. Although clearly falling in love with Catherine, William seemed to keep his distance, mostly avoiding their company wherever he could. In consequence, Catherine’s mood sank.
Until one morning.
Coming down the stairs, Christine found her sister at the pianoforte, playing a merry tune, an almost face-splitting smile on her lips. “What happened?” Christine asked, rushing over.
As Catherine’s glowing eyes turned to her, she felt certain that all would be well. “He kissed me,” her sister whispered, eyes shifting from side to side to ensure that they were alone.
“He did?” Christine gasped, then she pulled her sister into a tight embrace and held her close. “How? When?”
“Last night,” Catherine mumbled, tears of joy clinging to her eyelashes. “I couldn’t sleep, and so I went down into the kitchen. He found me there and offered to help. I suppose he couldn’t sleep, either.”
Christine snorted. “Or he saw you leave and followed you.”
“Do you truly think so?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me at all,” Christine said vehemently. “Did I not tell you that he would lose his heart to you all over again?”
A slight shadow fell over Catherine’s face.
“What is it?”
Her sister shrugged, then walked over to the window and looked out at the snow. “I’m never quite certain if he truly does love me or if he only…”
“Desires you?” Christine asked, seeing Wesley’s wicked grin before her mind’s eye as she spoke so boldly.
A slight blush came to her sister’s face, but she nodded. “How can I be certain? Of course, he hasn’t said anything about love. How could he? He believes me to be his−”
Footsteps echoed closer, and a moment later, William stepped into the parlour.
Obviously surprised to see them, his face paled and he stammered an apology before fleeing the room.
While Catherine’s face held a hint of sorrow, Christine laughed. “He loves you,” she whispered, grasping her sister’s hands. “I’m certain of it, and soon you will be, too.”
The next few days passed in fairly the same fashion. While Christine was busy with preparations, William and Catherine skulked around the house with hanging heads and wistful eyes, overjoyed to see the other, and yet, afraid to remain in the other’s company for too long. Sometimes, Christine felt the need to clunk their heads together in order to make them see what was so obvious. How could they not know? How could they not be certain of the other’s feelings?
“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Wesley observed as he stepped into the parlour, his eyes gliding over the different kinds of fabric spread out over the settee as well as the two armchairs.
Christine shrugged. “I like being in charge,” she admitted, then raised her gaze to meet his. “Were you not aware of that?”
Wesley chuckled. “Not at all. It comes as quite the surprise for me,” he teased before his face sobered and he sat down next to her, pushing aside a roll of fabric. “Can I assume you run your parents’ household with the same firm hand?”
Christine sighed. “In that case, you’d actually assume wrong.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise.
“My parents’ house is my mother’s domain,” she explained with a wistful smile. “She is too much like me and would never willingly relinquish control.”
Wesley laughed. “She sounds like a delightful creature.”
Rolling her eyes at him, Christine said, “You might be of a different opinion if you had to share your life with a woman like that. Because a woman like that−”
“A woman like you?”
“−would not simply run your household, she would run your life.”
A gentle smile came to his face as he looked at her. “That sounds very appealing.”
Christine snorted. “Wesley, please, you know as well as I do that you like to get your way. You like the idea of bowing your head to another as little as I do.”
“Why does anyone have to bow their head?” he asked, a somewhat incredulous look in his blue eyes. “Can we not both stand tall together?”
Christine sighed. “I suppose it’s possible, but extremely rare.”
A smile curled his lips as his eyes swept over her in admiration. “You’re a rare woman,” he whispered before a mischievous sparkle lit up his eyes, “and I like to believe that I’m a somewhat unusual man myself.”
Christine laughed. “You are indeed, Wesley Everett.” She rose from the settee, feeling the need to put a little distance between them for the way he looked at her was truly unsettling. “However, you know as well as I do that we are not a good match.” Turning to face him, she shook her head. “We are not the kind of people who commit for a lifetime.”
“But does that not speak in our favour?” he asked, abandoning his seat and coming toward her. “That we are of equal mind on this?”
Taking a deep breath, Christine eyed him critically as he approached, noting with a hint of concern the decrease in distance between them. “Are we?”
“Do you truly believe what you say?” he asked, a frown on his face. “Or are you just looking for reasons not to accept my proposal?”
Christine swallowed as his eyes held hers. Had he truly meant it?
“Marry me,” he whispered, “and I’ll gladly let you run my household as well as my life.”
Shaking her head, Christine tried her best to ignore the thudding of her heart as well as the delightful tingles his words trailed all over her body. “You do not mean what you say,” she said firmly, willing him as well as herself to believe it. “You only speak the way you do because …because you…you,” she licked her lips as he came closer, his eyes drilling into hers, “because you want me all to yourself.”
“I do want you all to myself,” he whispered as his arms came around her, pulling her against him. “I have from the moment we met.”
As his warm breath brushed over her skin and his eyes told her more than he could possibly say, Christine didn’t know what to think or do or feel because in that moment it was as though they merged into one being and she couldn’t even say where he ended and she began.
His hands tightened on her back, pressing her closer against him, as his head bent down to hers, his eyes searching her face before they dipped lower.
“Have you seen my brother?” William’s voice echoed through the half-open door.
Harrington’s butler cleared his throat. “I believe he’s in the parlour.”
At their voices, Wesley tensed, a low growl rising from his throat, before he stepped back. As his hands released her, Christine felt a stab of regret and she saw a matching expression cross over his face as well.
“Wesley, are you−?” William stuck his head in the door, but stopped the moment he perceived them. His eyes shifted over their faces, and Christine could have sworn she saw a glimmer of suspicion.
Fortunately, though, he did not act upon it.
Instead, a mask of polite indifference came to his face as he greeted them.
Knowing that uncomfortable silence was to follow, Christine quickly excused herself and fled the room. After everything that had happened, she needed a moment to herself.
With a sigh, she ascended the stairs. Now, she could not pretend that Wesley had not meant his proposal, but had only spoken in the heat of the moment. Now, his intentions had been quite clear.
Now, she would have to refuse him…or not?
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen − The Christmas Ball
By the time the day of the Christmas Ball finally came, Wesley only wanted it to be over. Although he had to admit that Christine’s charade had been somewhat entertaining in the beginning, now i
t felt almost suffocating to not be himself, at least, not completely. He could not imagine how the two sisters felt, considering that they had to pretend to be the other.
Wesley shook his head. This had gone too far, and no matter what happened at the ball, the charade would end tonight.
To his surprise, Christine sought him out a mere hour before they were to depart for the ball and enlisted his help as well as her sister’s for yet another one of her daring plans. Only this time, it involved his friend’s sister Eleanor as well as the girl’s secret love Henry Waltham!
When he had first realised her intentions, Wesley had refused to have any part in the plan, and yet, now, as he found himself walking into the earl’s home, Catherine dressed in a flattering dark green dress on his arm, his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for said Henry Waltham.
Had he truly agreed to this? Again, he shook his head, and a soft chuckle escaped him. Had he not told her he would be delighted to allow her to run his life? Should he truly be surprised that she would do so without even accepting his proposal?
“Are you all right?” Catherine asked, glancing up at him. “You seemed somewhat displeased when Christine shared her idea with us.”
“Shared her idea?” he mumbled, once again shaking his head in disbelief. “She did not share her idea. She all but told us what to do without so much as asking whether we were inclined to do so.”
Catherine smiled. “Would you have refused her?”
Wesley sighed. “No.” For a moment, his eyes lingered on Christine as she walked through the throng of guests on his brother’s arm before they caught sight of the very man Christine had them looking for. “There he is,” Wesley said, inconspicuously inclining his head to the right end of the refreshment table. “At least, I believe it’s him. With the mask, it’s not easy to be certain. However, he has the Waltham build. So, I suppose it could be him.”
A Lady’s Christmas Rake Page 39