Yuletide Happily Ever Afters; A Merry Little Set Of Regency Romances

by Jenna Jaxon

  “Well, what you have been doing for the past few days has not helped one iota.” Mother motioned him to pick up the stool and they moved to yet another sconce. “My suggestion is that you take her aside, tell her that you were behaving like an immature puppy, and beg her to marry you.”

  The stool grasped in one hand, the sack of holly in the other, William gaped at her. “Mother, you are hardly being helpful.”

  “On the contrary, I am being most helpful and practical, if you will only admit you love dear Marianne. Put the stool there, please.”

  Mother’s nonchalant attitude irked him. It had taken all his strength of character not to flee the house after that disgraceful round of fisticuffs with Ayles. What the devil had gotten into him? Well, he knew what it had been. Seeing Marianne and Ayles kissing had driven him berserk. Facing Marianne now was simply not an option for him. Every time he thought of it, the pit of his stomach hurt like the blazes. “Why would you think I am in love with Marianne? I’ve been helping her find a husband. If I were in love with her, I would simply have asked her.”

  “And all our lives would’ve been much less chaotic if you had.” His mother fixed him with a baleful eye before stepping up onto the stool. “Holly bough, please. However, I suspect that at the time you agreed to assist her, she was not quite in love with you.”

  “But now you think she is?” A frisson of excitement shot through him. And though he tried to dismiss it, a lifting of his spirit told him there might be a thread of truth in his mother’s assertion.

  “I do indeed. She’s had offers the past two Seasons and refused them all.” His mother wound the prickly holly around the sconce as easily as if it were a length of silk. Incredibly, she had not a scratch on either her hands or arms.

  “They were hardly stellar matches, as I recall. None of them were truly worthy of her. Marianne deserves someone who will cherish her, be a companion to her, love her. A gentleman who will not break her spirit, but who will still challenge her.” Ayles had been the suitor closest to having those attributes, and in a fit of jealousy he’d ruined any chance for him with Marianne.

  “William, do you never listen to yourself when you talk?” Having finished with the sconce, Mother stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “You’ve just described yourself as the perfect husband for her. Does your heart not tell you this is so?”

  Opening his mouth to deny it, William paused to think back on the gentleman he’d described. Mother was correct; every attribute he’d ascribed to the perfect match for Marianne fit him as well. He stared at the holly-bedecked sconce and a huge surge of some soft, warm emotion welled up inside him. How had he not seen this before?

  The closeness between him and Marianne had grown from their childhood into something he had to admit was more than simple friendship on his part. Perhaps that early friendship had obscured his feelings as they matured. Or maybe he simply was the dunderhead she was so fond of calling him.

  His reaction to Ayles kissing her should’ve been the biggest clue. Lord, after that scene and the things he’d said, would Marianne even speak to him again? She’d been hiding in her room ever since the incident. “What can I do, Mother? She won’t speak to me now. Not that I blame her after the horrible way I’ve treated her.”

  Mother’s smile split her face from ear to ear. “Thank goodness you’ve finally come to your senses.” She jumped down from the stool. “Let me worry about arranging a meeting between the both of you. Be ready tomorrow morning, and early, mind. Before everyone is stirring. I will make certain Marianne is here, in this very spot.” Pointedly, she gazed up at another huge mistletoe ball suspended from a chandelier just above their heads and back to him. “Be sure you make the most of it.”

  * * * *

  Snow had begun falling furiously the night before and by the pearly almost-daylight, Marianne could see the drifts against the trees, the house, the stables. Peering out the window of her room, she gazed, fascinated, as the flakes continued to swirl, now fast, now only a handful of large, lacy pinwheels. They might truly be snowed in as she’d feared the first day here.

  Mere days ago, it had been a burden she’d prayed to pass them by. Today she’d deem it a boon, especially if their meeting with Lady Cannock went well. Mama had arranged for them to meet to discuss how to bring William up to scratch. The very thought made her dizzy with fear and pleasure. Mama’s certainty that William loved her had finally persuaded Marianne, and they’d spent two days strategizing in her chamber under pretense of a megrim. Now, they were sallying forth to put those plans into action.

  She draped her China silk shawl of blue and lavender around her shoulders and sped through the door to meet Mama and Lady Cannock down in the ballroom. Very soon, she hoped, she would be meeting with William himself. Thoughts of him that once moved her not at all now lit a fire in her heart that spread its warmth all through her body. Several places in particular seemed to erupt with an aching heat she could not understand, save she wished for something—or someone—to stop it. Trying to ignore those feelings, she hurried down the stairs, the heels of her slippers thudding on the polished stairs. She couldn’t have announced her presence better had she employed a town crier.

  After reaching the first floor, she raced down corridors, turning the familiar corners until she came to the ballroom. The waxing light created a softness in the room it rarely enjoyed. The scent of the evergreens tied together with the holly provided a pleasant reminder of the upcoming holiday. Two more days, and her wager would either be lost or won. And she was praying with all her might it would be won in a spectacularly public way.

  She pushed the door open and strode in, looking for Mama and Lady Cannock. Scarcely a moment’s worth of silence told her the ladies were not there. Had they stopped to drink tea? They were to speak of a strategy Lady Cannock had come upon—almost guaranteed, she claimed, to result in her marriage to William. “Lady Cannock? Mama?” she called. “Are you here?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  The echoing words left her gasping. She whirled toward William, standing just inside the doorway, looking more handsome and grand than she could ever remember. He’d brushed his wavy hair until it shone like molten gold. His dove gray morning coat hugged his shoulders, making them look a mile wide. He also sported a fine waistcoat and a cravat that would’ve graced Beau Brummell once upon a time. She could scarcely take her eyes off him.

  And drat it! She stood here like a ninny without Lady Cannock’s foolproof plan. Despite a racing heart that tended to skip beats like little girls gone a-maying, Marianne managed a smile. “Hello, William. You’re down early this morning.”

  “As are you, Marianne.” He bowed to her, and she smiled encouragingly. “What brings you here before dawn?”

  “Well, not before dawn, exactly. Right at dawn, I would say.” She prattled on, suddenly aware that they were alone together. She’d been alone with Will hundreds of times over the years and thought nothing of it. Now, however, being here, so close, only the two of them seemed incredibly wicked. “I’m meeting Mama and your mother to discuss…”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Discuss what?”

  “Uh…we’re discussing…um, my gown for the Christmas ball. Do you think blue or yellow becomes me best?” The first thing she could think of with her head spinning like a top.

  He frowned and squinted his eyes. “I don’t think it matters.” Now it was his turn to peer intently at her. “I think you look well in both colors. However, blue is my favorite, as you know.”

  “Yes, yes, I do remember that.” She continued quickly before she lost her courage completely. “I quite prefer the blue myself, so that is settled.” Why wouldn’t he leave so she could seek out Lady Cannock for information to snare her son? “You will be at the ball also, I assume?”

  He nodded, not taking his gaze off her.

  “Good.” Now the gibbering would begin in earnest. “I had hoped to partner Mr. Ayles for the first dance, but Mama tells me he ha
s quit the party.”

  “That is correct. I behaved rather badly toward him.” William’s gaze skittered up toward the gigantic ball of greenery. “I’ve begged his pardon and must now ask for yours as well.”

  “Oh.” Head spinning, she shifted unsteadily on her feet. He looked so determinedly at her that her mouth had gone quite dry as bone. Did this steadfast stare mean he’d finally had a change of heart? Her stomach trembled at the thought. Then she wouldn’t need her hostess’s plan to snare him. Suddenly dizzy, she swayed a little toward him. Perhaps he would simply take her in his arms and settle the matter once and for all. She couldn’t think of anything more wonderful.

  If only she could persuade him to do so.

  * * * *

  Damned if she wasn’t the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Her long blond hair had been piled on top of her head with a pearl-studded pink ribbon threaded through it. There was a freshness to her round face, a restrained excitement that communicated itself to him and quite put him on edge. The pale pink gown she wore had simple lines that still managed to accentuate the curves of her body. How had he never noticed those before? Now they drove him to distraction.

  He must calm himself or he’d never be able to tell her what he needed to say. “I am truly sorry for the contretemps in the hall the other day. I should have neither done nor said those things. It was very wrong of me and I do beg your pardon for interrupting you and Mr. Ayles. It was not my place to judge what seemed to be a…a…moment of understanding.” Peering closely at her wide blue eyes, a sudden sense of dread overcame him, drenching his palms in a cold sweat. What if Mother was wrong? Did Marianne truly have a tendre for Ayles? He swallowed hard and forced himself to ask, “I did not ask him, but were you and he in the midst of a proposal?”

  She shifted uneasily on her small, slippered feet, her gaze darting around as if looking for someone. Wringing her hands, she squared her shoulders and brought her sober gaze back to his face. “You were supposed to be helping me in my search, Will. He was your candidate. Do you think I should marry Mr. Ayles?”

  As though she’d reached into his chest and seized his heart, Will gasped at the pain that almost took his breath away. Mother had been wrong. Marianne must affect Ayles, else why such a question of him? Staring into her beautiful blue eyes, he drew in a ragged breath and began to nod then stopped. Marianne was his friend, his love. She deserved to know what he truly thought. “No. I do not think that at all. Ayles is a grand chap and would make any other woman a wonderful husband. But not you.”

  Her mouth puckered, as if about to smile.

  Astonished, he stepped back. He’d expected nothing short of a blow after that declaration.

  “If not Mr. Ayles then who?” She rose on tiptoe, as though she hung on his every word.

  “Me.” It came out a croak, but he didn’t care. He’d said it aloud.

  “You think I should marry you?” The question was tinged with a trace of her usual mocking tone, tempered this time, though, with that excitement he’d sensed in her just now.

  “I do.” It was his only wish in the world.

  “I think so too.” She slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him close, as close as they’d been on the balcony at Lady Capri’s. Heat erupted at every point she touched, until he blazed with joy and desire. In some indescribable way, they melded together, as though they were two missing pieces of a puzzle now suddenly joined. A feeling both delicious and so right.

  Then she stepped back, one of her delicate brows rising above eager eyes. “Was that supposed to be a proposal, sir?”

  He snared her hand, so small and smooth. “Well, it could suffice as such, I suppose.” By Jove, she deserved more than that. So much more. He gazed at her with hungry eyes. “But I believe a more formal declaration is in order.”

  Her smile lit the entire room. “So do I. After everything you’ve put me through, you owe me that.”

  “And so much more, my love.” Kneeling, he beamed into her beautiful face, his heart so full it seemed to swell his chest. “You deserve anything and everything I can do to make you happy.”

  “You already have, William.” Her eyes shining with joy, she squeezed his hands.

  “Miss Covington.”

  “No.” Laying a finger on his lips, she stopped him with her feather-light touch. “You should ask Marianne. I’ve always been Marianne to you.”

  Unimagined happiness poured through him. His friend would now be friend—and so much more—for all their lives. Hoping she could feel the pounding within, William drew her hands to his chest. “Marianne, will you do me the very greatest honor, and make me the happiest man in the world, by becoming my wife?”

  Eyes glistening with unshed tears, she nodded, swallowed hard, and burst forth, “Yes, yes, I will.”

  Feeling as though he’d passed Sir Gawain’s three tests of knighthood, William arose and pulled Marianne close to him. She fit perfectly, her head nestled right against his heart. He never wanted to let her go.

  “Didn’t I tell you, William, to make the most of your surroundings?” His mother’s voice shattered the silence and the moment. She and Lady Dalkey stood near the doorway. No way to tell how much they’d witnessed. Mother turned to her friend. “He never has listened to me, Maria. I do hope dear Marianne will be able to keep a firmer hold on him.”

  “I believe she will, Sarah.” Lady Dalkey nodded then sent a sharp look to Marianne. “If she does not, it is not for lack of my trying to instill that virtue in her.”

  “Mama!”

  “Mother!”

  Their cries only made the older women grin wider.

  “Mother, don’t tell me you and Lady Dalkey planned this from the beginning?” William didn’t know whether to be incensed or grateful.

  “Not from the cradle, William,” Lady Dalkey assured him. “But from the end of Marianne’s first Season, your mother and I began to speak of it. After Marianne told me of your wager last month, we put our heads together and agreed to help the two of you along.”

  Marianne had stepped back when their mothers spoke. Now she stood, arms akimbo, frowning at the women. “Mama, did you not think we could come to this conclusion by ourselves?”

  “No, my dear.” Her mother shook her head then glanced at Lady Cannock. “We knew if you were to discover one another, you would need assistance. And not only from us. Lord Hawkenberry and Lord Tamworth played their parts splendidly.”

  “What?” He and Marianne spoke at once.

  Mother waved her hand. “A simple matter of false information spread at the right time by Hawkenberry.”

  “And a lovely performance, so I hear, by Lord Tamworth.” Lady Dalkey laughed affectionately. “He’s long been a friend of your father’s, Marianne. He thought it quite a lark to convince you he was a blackguard.”

  “Then he’s not betrothed to a rich Italian wife?” Marianne glanced at him, utter confusion on her face.

  “Not even for a moment.” Her mother took Marianne’s arm. “You aren’t regretting accepting William now, are you, dear?”

  “No!” She shrank back against him, and William put his arm around her.

  “Very good.” Mother gave a short, sharp nod. “The rest of the subterfuge was quite easy. I suggested Sherston, remembering your mother’s comment, Marianne, that you’d turned down Lord Haddon because he had two children by his first wife. I suspected that four children would be even more objectionable to you.”

  “I told you she’d been the one to propose Sherston.” William pounced on that, vindicated in that disastrous candidate at least.

  “Mr. Ayles was more challenging, because you’d hit upon a very eligible parti, William.” Mother glared at him. “You forced me to simply be as direct with the young man as I could possibly be. I fear he may perceive himself to be badly used, and rightly so. Cannock and I will determine how to make amends to him.”

  “We seem to have been thoroughly bamboozled, my love.” William had to chuckle at their pa
rents’ excellently executed plan. “Do you mind?”

  Shaking her head, Marianne leaned against his chest once more. “They seem to have indeed helped us along. And I am too happy to care what they did, as long as we will be together.”

  “So, William.” His mother lifted her chin toward the mistletoe ball hanging over his head. “Do you intend to make the most of your situation, as I suggested?”

  Glancing up at the ball of mistletoe, festively tied with red ribbon, William laughed and reached up into the center of the greenery. He plucked a handful of the white, waxy berries then scattered them in a circle around him and Marianne. “Yes, Mother. I do indeed.”

  Giving a little shriek, Marianne laughed as he lowered his mouth to hers. Lips had never tasted so sweet, been so soft. He remembered that vaguely from the other day, but now he could savor the experience of their closeness, touch and explore every tiny part of her mouth.

  She nestled closer, pressing her body and her mouth to him as though she could never get enough.

  Finally, panting, they broke the kiss.

  When she’d caught her breath, Marianne stared at the white berries lying all over the floor at their feet. Raising her gaze to his, she smiled. “Well, that was one.” She raised her lips to his and whispered, “Shall we now account for all the rest?”

  EPILOGUE

  Christmas Day had dawned chilly, but bright. The snow had finally stopped the day before, though travel would still be difficult. Not too difficult, Marianne’s parents assured her, for the vicar of the local parish church to make his way to Bramblewood Manor.

  In the two days since William had proposed to her, their combined families had worked tirelessly to arrange the wedding on Christmas Day. William, Marianne, and the other guests had returned to strip the snowy woods, as well as Lady Cannock’s winter garden, of more greenery so that the ballroom now resembled a bower filled with fragrant fir, Christmas boxwood, holly, ivy, Winter Sun, and Winter Beauty.