At least for today, the storm had been pushed aside.
The roads should be passable very soon. That meant three things: her parents would be arriving shortly, she’d be free to deliver her gifts and baked goods to the village, and Lucas would be journeying on to Lady Natalie’s Christmas party. Her excitement for the first two diminished with the thought of Lucas’s departure—from her home and her life.
It was irrational to think a man, this complete stranger, would happen upon her house during a storm and become a permanent fixture in her life. Their paths had only crossed for these short two days—they would both move on from here, each forgetting the other. There was the possibility of them meeting again when Pippa returned to London. Would they nod to one another—possibly dance a set, or share refreshments at the opera—or would they both look the other way, agreeing to keep the memory of their time together intact without ruining the specialness by seeking to continue their acquaintance?
An acquaintance that would lead nowhere.
Regardless of what their futures held, today, they would go their separate ways. She to the village, and Lucas to his party—although, two days late, yet still in time for the holiday.
Pippa smiled, realizing that, although times would return to normal, she’d fulfilled what her parents had found…love during the Christmastide. That she’d kissed a man most unsuitable did not matter, did it? When in his arms, he did not feel the least bit as Pippa imagined a rogue would feel.
Their kiss had been everything she’d anticipated, and yet, far exceeded her expectations. His lips had been warm and intense. His hands had caressed her bum, kneading in gentlest of fashions. His scent had invaded her senses—he smelled of all things manly, pine and leather with a hint of sandalwood.
He’d been in control of their kiss; however, he hadn’t sought to prove his dominance—nor take their intimate moment further than Pippa was prepared for. If Lucas would have asked, or led, she more than likely would have allowed him any liberties he sought.
It was a startling thought, and confirmed that he needed to go immediately; move on to Lady Natalie’s party. If he stayed, it would not be him leading her to ruin, but Pippa walking into her own undoing—with no reservations.
Did every man’s kiss affect women in such a way? Pippa did not expect so. There had been Mr. Gordon Everdom, who’d asked her to dance twice at one ball—but his hands were clammy and damp. His scent was that of a savory duck soup, as if his meal were exiting through his pores as the night progressed and his body became overheated. Pippa enjoyed duck soup as much as the next miss, but not as a perfume. It had never crossed Pippa’s mind to allow his lips anywhere near hers. Not for fear of a scandal, but that she knew there would be no pleasure to be found in Everdom’s arms.
All night, she’d longed for Lucas’s lips to return to hers, continue the dance they’d started the night before, moving against one another to a beat only they heard.
Pippa’s first kiss—and it had been far grander than she and Lady Natalie had dreamt of in their youths. They’d been so naïve to think their first kisses would come on their wedding days to the men who’d sweep them off their feet and make their girlish fairytale dreams come true.
Had Lady Natalie met her Prince Charming? Had he swept her off her feet?
Lucas was no Prince Charming. Even as little as she knew of him, she suspected he lived in the darkness far more than the light. Pippa could not see herself following any man into that existence, which suited her well because Lucas would be gone within the next few hours, and their kiss would remain an exquisite memory to be cherished and re-lived during the years to come—and best during the deep nighttime hours.
It did not matter if Natalie’s beau was charming, wealthy, and from a good family, for Pippa would certainly secure a favorable match with time. Possibly before the next Christmastide season.
But could she leave fate to chance? The need to return to London and give herself the opportunity for another Season was a necessity.
For now, she had gifts to prepare, and a village full of tenants to see.
She rushed down the stairs, renewed at the thought of venturing out as she was no longer trapped by the storm. Though, oddly, she hadn’t felt trapped and alone since Lucas’s arrival. In fact, she seemed unable to escape him no matter where she hid in the house—not that Pippa would admit that she’d sought out the kitchen the night before to escape his notice, thinking a place where servants gathered was safe and beyond detection of a man such as Lucas.
There was much to do, so many things she’d neglected since his arrival. Neglect wasn’t the correct word at all. There were things she’d outright forgotten since he’d stepped into her home and taken over her every thought—such as the children. The village children depended on gifts from her and her mother to stay warm during the winter months. New caps, capes, muffs, mittens, and socks. Many Londoners would be shocked to know that Pippa spent a great deal of time on her charitable pursuits, though she did not view the less fortunate as such. Nor did she speak to anyone of her caring heart. From her mother, Pippa had learned the misfortune of being born to a lower class—a life many saw as inescapable. Nonetheless, her mother, Cordelia, had escaped her impoverished life but was one of the few that always looked back as opposed to forward. She had taught her daughter a life lesson that many young debutantes never learned.
Kindness.
The art of being genuinely caring to all.
One could never know a person’s past or the wounds they’d suffered. Therefore, it was nobody’s right to judge another.
However, it was her duty to help in any way she could.
It made Pippa’s attitude toward Lady Natalie’s betrayal and her spiteful meeting with Lucas all the more concerning. She’d wished ill will on another voluntarily—it was unwarrantable. Pippa would double her good deeds to redeem herself in her own eyes.
But first, she needed to prepare all the packages for delivery. Thankfully, Cook had arrived early to finish baking the pies Pippa had forgotten in the kitchen—sidetracked by Lucas’s kiss.
Hurrying to her mother’s parlor, Pippa began wrapping a book, cap, mittens or a muff, and cape in brown paper she’d had her father bring back from London a few months past. It would keep the gifts dry if it were snowing while she was out delivering them. Each was tied with a bow, green for the boys and red for the girls. It was Christmas, after all. No pink and blue.
Last year, she’d given school essentials: individual chalkboards, pencils, and school primers. And the year before that, she’d begged her father for a new pair of shoes for each child. It had been a grand year. Pippa had taught a few lessons to the children before preparing for her own entrance into society—where lowering oneself to a position of pay was deemed unfit and disreputable. She longed to return to that simpler time when she’d actively pursued what made her happy, not what looked best for a young woman of high breeding. She held no illusions that when she wed, her husband would not look proudly on a woman who sought happiness among the less fortunate.
Men such as the Duke of Midcrest, her father, rarely existed in society.
Before long, Pippa moved from her hunched position near the low table in favor of sitting prone on the rug near the crackling hearth. The warmth was welcome without being overpowering. She’d spent several hours the day before bringing merriment to this room, her mother’s chosen space, and it increased her spirit greatly knowing her dear mother would soon join her. Though the holiday hadn’t started with promise, she was certain all would be put to rights by the end of the day.
Lucas would be gone—as regrettable as that was to her—and her parents would arrive. Her mother would take to the kitchen, with Pippa’s help, and they would prepare their family feast, while her father wrapped gifts for his two beloved women. It was the normal way of things.
With the confusion Lucas’s arrival and their kiss had brought, Pippa desperately needed things to be normal. A few short hours to think thro
ugh all the emotions coursing through her. They were foreign, yet not completely unwanted, and something she needed to explore, especially if she were serious about taking a husband.
When she did settle on the perfect man, he would be tall, his arms strong, and his gaze intense—his hair falling just over his eyes in that rakish sort of way she hadn’t given much thought to in previous days. A humorous spirit would be much preferred, and she certainly enjoyed good-natured bantering.
The image that sprang to mind had Pippa’s eyes opening wide in shock—why did her future husband so accurately resemble Lucas. Certainly, her mind was playing tricks on her, for a man like Lucas was the exact type of man she should run far away from.
Pippa tied the last ribbon on the final gift and pushed to her feet to take in all she’d accomplished. Twenty-seven tiny bundled packages with perfectly tied bows.
Her back ached, and her fingers were numb from trying so much ribbon.
She couldn’t help but smile, though, thinking about the joy on the children’s faces when she arrived at their doors bearing gifts.
A gong sounded from her father’s study, and Pippa paused to count—eleven. If she planned to have sufficient time to load her carriage, deliver all the gifts, and return before her parents’ arrival, Pippa needed to hurry.
“Lady Pippa?” Briars called, stepping into the room.
“Yes?” Pippa turned to face her family’s aging servant, who seemed unable to hide his smile at the many presents wrapped and waiting for tiny hands to open them. One such gift had been specially wrapped for Briars’ own granddaughter; a precocious six-year-old with raven hair and the greenest of eyes—ever so intense for one so young.
“The carriage is readied and being brought round for you.” Briars was a dear soul and looked after Pippa during the rare times her parents were away. His children and grandchildren were very lucky to have such a man of standing as their patriarch. “Please, let me know if you require anything further.”
“The roads have dried enough for travel?” There was little reason to load the carriage and set out only to get stuck or be forced to turn back due to impassible conditions. She’d be lying if a part of her longed to have the butler tell her things were still negatively impacted by the passing storm. The children would not get their gifts, but she’d have more time with Lucas—maybe even another kiss.
“Yes, my lady.”
“That is wonderful news.” Pippa smiled brightly, her joy going no further than her lips. “I will bring everything to the foyer to be loaded.”
“I will have a footman sent to assist you.”
“That is not necessary,” Pippa assured him. “They are light, but do have him bring the pies from the kitchen.”
“Certainly.” With a quick nod, he was on his way, leaving the door open for her to move the presents.
Pippa could hear two maids giggling through the open door over a gift one of the girls had received from a particularly unsuitable suitor. In that instant, she missed her dear friend, Natalie. They would have gossiped for hours if one of them had received a Christmas gift—from a man. After her kiss the night before, Pippa would have braved the storm to journey all the way to the neighboring estate just to gush over how handsome Lucas was. But that was not how things were to be. What hurt most was not knowing the reason she’d lost her friend. Had it been something Pippa had done or said? Was it that Natalie had found their friendship had outlasted its usefulness? She did not believe that to be true in any way.
But there was nothing she could do about Lady Natalie and her decision to end their friendship in such a cruel manner.
It was hard to push from her mind the thought of her dear friend entering into a betrothal, and all before Pippa knew anything of the man. Was he worthy of Natalie’s love? Did he love her in return? Where was his estate? Would Natalie be allowed time to visit with her friends?
Pippa sighed, collecting as many presents as she could and hurried to the foyer, depositing the pile as she turned to gather more.
“Good day, Lady Pippa.”
She froze at the deep tone, the words drawled slow enough to linger far longer than was necessary for the “Ps” in her name. His voice was sweeter than a summer batch of honey collected not far from her manor house. However, nothing in his tone confirmed that he was ever willingly labeled as “sweet.” He was more of a blackberry, dark and forbidding on the outside, but sugary and delicious on the inside. One only need journey past his menacing exterior.
Delicious? It was an odd term to use to define a man. Or any person for that matter.
Though it fit Lucas—and her feelings toward him—perfectly.
“Good morn, my lord.” Pippa’s voice wobbled slightly. “I do hope your rest was revitalizing.”
“I have discovered many revitalizing things since my arrival in Somerset.”
Pippa blinked rapidly and swallowed past the sawdust that dried her throat at his inciting words. She would not read too much into his comment, she would not read too much into his comment—she would not read too much into his comment.
“You look dashing today and ready to venture forth to your holiday party,” she said, refusing to address his earlier words. “I have noticed the storm has moved to the horizon, and Briars informed me the roads are now passable.”
He released a sigh, and Pippa could have sworn he muttered the word “pity.”
Again, she would not bite.
“What are you doing?” He took the final two steps into the entry and surveyed her pile of gifts. “It looks as if you have been busy since we parted last night.”
Another reference to the previous night—and their kiss. “I am preparing to depart for the village to deliver gifts.” Her words were safe enough, and they left her mouth without a hitch, even though she felt her skin warming the closer he came to her. “There is nothing stopping me now, and I have much to attend to.”
“Ah, yes,” he said. He picked up a package wrapped with a green bow. “For the children. A bleeding heart.”
He’d retreated to the demeanor from his arrival—cold and removed.
No longer was he the man who’d helped her in the kitchens or given her the gift of a kiss.
“A bleeding heart?” she asked.
“Certainly,” he confirmed what she’d thought she’d heard him say. “You will put your safety in jeopardy for others. The storm has moved inland, but that does not mean it will stay there for long.”
She knew he spoke the truth of the matter for it was common for storms to pass with another close behind. “For now, the weather is clear enough, my lord.”
“Lucas.”
By morning light, Pippa did not feel comfortable addressing him by his given name. It was a shame, but she felt the connection they’d shared the day before was gone. He was an earl, a wealthy man, and needed to continue on to Lady Natalie’s. It was where he belonged. While Pippa, she belonged here or in the village.
“Anyways, Lucas,” Pippa continued, unfazed—or at least unwilling to show him how he affected her. “I will bid you farewell. You will likely arrive at your destination long before I return from the village.”
“More’s the pity.” There it was again, his words begging her to comment. “Do you need assistance?” He looked around as if expecting a footman to appear.
“The carriage is being brought round, but thank you.”
He placed the gift he’d picked up back on the stack and turned his intense stare to her. “I have had a fascinating two days, Lady Pippa. I thank you for not banishing me to the stables for shelter.”
Pippa chuckled, knowing she’d been tempted by his dour mood that first night to do just that. “And I thank you for helping in the kitchen last night.” She purposefully didn’t mention what had happened after their time in the kitchen.
“It was an experience completely new to me.”
“Not completely new, may I remind you.” Pippa was happy he was willing to let slide their kiss. “You were qui
te accomplished with the pie crusts.”
“Ah, yes, very true,” he said, tapping his finger against his chin. “It had slipped my mind...as there were more memorable moments.”
She’d counted her blessings too soon it would seem. Of course, she would not want to forget their kiss. But surely, Lucas had kissed many, many, many women and would not allow their kiss to take up so much space in his thoughts. But maybe, just maybe, he was similarly affected by their intimate moment.
The front door opened to reveal her waiting carriage—Lucas’s horse saddled nearby.
“You will continue on horseback?” she asked, a bit downcast knowing he’d already made plans to depart.
He looked out the open door as the footman collected Pippa’s gifts to load in her carriage. “Yes, I fear my carriage is suitably stuck in the muck on the main road. But as you’ve said, the storm has moved to the horizon and the time has come for me to be on my way. Your hospitality, though lacking at first, was remedied and greatly appreciated, my lady.”
“I do appreciate you overlooking my abysmal manners.” Pippa wanted to thank him, but could not find the adequate words to express exactly what she was thankful for—his presence while she’d been alone, his help in the kitchen, or his part in showing her that passion existed for her. “Please, give Lady Natalie and her family my kindest regards.”
He gazed once more out the open door and then back to her, his eyes taking her in from head to toe. “It is likely to be very cold outside, and the temperatures are dropping rapidly, please wear sufficient protection against the elements.”
It was a glimpse of the Lucas she’d met the previous night, and she adored that side of him. It was something he was very uncomfortable with showing people, as was evident from his stance and knitted brow.
“I certainly will.” At his dubious look, she continued, “There are many warm blankets in my carriage, and my coat with fur is just over there.” Pippa nodded to her coat, hanging close to the door.
“Can I not talk you into accompanying me to the Sheridans?”
A Kiss At Christmastide: Regency Novella Page 7