Eliza had not drunk chocolate since she’d left school.
“Lady Kingsley said you might wish to take your breakfast in your chamber. And I’m to order a bath for you as soon as you’re ready to dress.” Sally was far too cheerful for Eliza’s mood.
Likely Olivia was planning a ceremony already.
Eliza groaned, thinking she ought to remain in her chamber all day long—claim to be suffering from a megrim.
And then she looked out the window and sighed.
Snow!
And today was Christmas Eve! She could not remain abed. She’d promised Crawford’s sisters and Charlotte and Bartholomew and Louella’s oldest boy that they would collect greenery to decorate the house. She may be at sixes and sevens, but she could not break her promise. Children never forgot a broken promise.
She pressed her forehead against the window. For now, the flakes were tiny little crystals and melted as soon as they hit the ground. Hopefully, they would stay that way. She’d feel horrible if Thomas and Lord Crestwood and the duke could not make the return trip in time for the Christmas Eve festivities.
A shiver of… something… ran through her. Was it terror? Anticipation? Regret? She had no idea.
“Lady Kingsley also sent this.”
Eliza turned to see the maid had returned and was holding a scarlet dress made up of a thick velvet that matched the cape perfectly.
It was the most ridiculous, fussy, feminine, and yes, gorgeous garment she’d ever seen.
Leave it to Olivia.
“Well.” Eliza reached out and touched the luxurious fabric. “If Lady Kingsley sent it, I might as well wear it.”
It had been reckless of the three of them to strike out for London. It allowed for very little time for them to make the return journey in time for Christmas Eve celebrations. Henry had children to consider, as did Crawford. And Thomas Cline had an entire village of churchgoers who would expect him to deliver the Christmas sermon in barely two days’ time.
Kingsley had promised to come up with something to tell Bartholomew and Charlotte though. And with Miss Cline’s brother on the verge of demanding Henry meet him on a field of honor, Henry didn’t want to delay.
Henry burrowed into his jacket, keeping his eyes upon the snow-covered road. They must be getting close. They’d left London hours ago.
Tucked into the inside pocket of his coat, he had a special license. He would have succeeded alone but having a duke at one’s side had definitely made the undertaking less contentious.
Riding along, he half expected himself to have second thoughts, but none had come. His greatest concern was that she didn’t want this as much as he did.
He’d become surprised by how much he wanted it. He hadn’t wanted anything for himself in a very long time.
“Up ahead!” Crawford shouted from behind where he rode alongside his betrothed’s most protective brother.
Kingsley’s castle rose from behind the trees like a frozen sanctuary, less than half a mile off.
What if she’d left? Returned to Misty Brooke?
But she could not. She would wait for her brother. Of whom Henry owed a great deal. He’d protected Eliza when she needed it most.
Her brother had known Henry’s actual identity. It hadn’t required a great deal of asking about to discover that the man who’d ruin his sister was married. The vicar had intended to demand that Henry marry Eliza.
Of course, he’d discovered it was not possible. Thomas Cline had kept the truth from Eliza all these years. He’d known what it would do to her. Henry glanced across at the gentleman.
Apparently, the vicar hadn’t been preaching out of both sides of his mouth when he’d preached all those sermon’s Eliza told him about. Henry had apologized, and e and the vicar had come to a delicate détente––for now.
His mount jerked her head, as though wanting to run; she must sense they were nearing the end of their journey. Or perhaps he was the one feeling anxious.
As he turned up the snow-covered drive, sounds of laughter drifted onto the road from the surrounding forest.
And in a flash, a whirlwind in red burst through the trees. If she hadn’t caught herself sharply, he would have nearly run her down.
“Henry!”
Peeking out from the white fur of her hood, Miss Cline’s cheeks were flushed rosy red, and her eyes sparkled.
“Eliza.” He stated the obvious.
She held one finger to her lips and ducked into a cove of hanging branches. “We’re playing outside sardines, if you don’t mind. And I’d appreciate not getting caught.”
She certainly didn’t look as though she’d spent the last thirty or so hours in deep despair.
Henry grinned and allowed his horse to continue toward the main house. He’d caused her a great deal of misery since meeting her; he’d be damned if he’d be such a bad sport as to give away her hiding place.
Chapter Fifteen
Christmas Eve
Exhausted but quite pleased with herself, Eliza followed the worn-out children up the front steps and into Kingsley’s festive-looking manor.
Since she’d left earlier with all the young people, servants had hung branches of evergreen and holly over the doorway and in the windows. With the snow and the clippings and even finding the perfect tree, it had been quite impossible for Eliza to do anything other than give in to the holiday merriment.
And for some reason, when she’d seen him coming up the drive, she’d only felt joy. The men had returned safely and none of them appeared to be sporting any mortal wounds. Whatever happened would happen.
Something about this place, about the pretty dresses, the children’s laughter, and being around people who had absolutely no expectations of her… It was freeing.
The butler stepped up behind her to assist her in removing her cloak but when she turned to thank him, her heart jumped. The man behind her was not the butler.
It was Henry.
She froze, her smile in place, and then all the ramifications of his presence subdued her cheerful mood.
She bit her lip.
“Do you always go running through the forest in the midst of a blizzard? At first, I thought you might be some sort of Christmas fairy.” He was joking with her.
She shook her head. “We should talk.”
Before Henry could respond, the actual butler stepped forward and relieved him of the fur-trimmed garment draped over his arm. Henry simply studied her quietly until they were alone again.
“I suppose. Yes. That’s probably necessary.” But his gaze was a tender one. “I also need to have a talk with my children.” Of course, he would be concerned about them!
“They don’t know anything yet.” Eliza would reassure him. “Olivia asked the guests who were present in the drawing-room when Thomas… When you… Well, he requested all of them to keep it to themselves. Kingsley told Bartholomew and Charlotte that you were fetching some last-minute gifts. We all thought it best. And I agreed. Especially since…” More of her joy fled.
“Especially since?” He peered at her closely.
“Since… since it isn’t real. I do wish you had not gone rushing off to London. We’ll need to tell the truth. Before the children hear anything.” Surely, he would agree with her—be relieved even. And yet he simply took hold of her arm and led her off into the same small parlor Olivia had taken her the day before.
Once the door closed behind him, he turned and gestured for her to sit. “And when do you suggest we inform my children of our impending marriage? After we’ve returned from our wedding journey?”
Oh, but why must he make this so difficult.? She did not want to become a burden to him—a reminder of his greatest betrayal.
“But we are not betrothed,” she reminded him. “It is a lie.”
“The details I gave your brother.” Henry was sitting beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his legs against hers. “The timing, I’ll give you that, might have been a lie. But… I… You
agreed.”
Eliza covered her face with both hands and moaned. “You do not have to do this, Henry. I forgive you! I do not hate you! In fact, I’ve come to quite… admire your character. A person should not have to pay for one mistake for the entirety of his life! And I most certainly do not wish to become your punishment, your penance.” She dropped her hands and stared at him earnestly. “I release you.”
“Marrying you is not to be a penance!” The words nearly exploded from him. But then he ran a hand through his hair. “Never a punishment, Eliza. Don’t you understand? Marrying you. It is the only course of action that I can take.” His eyes pleaded with her to understand. “I cannot allow myself to … act upon my affections… without the respectability of marriage.”
“But….” She was confused. “You have not kissed me. You have not wanted me now that I am… older.”
“I have not kissed you, that is true. But not because I have not wanted to. And not because I am not attracted to you. Quite the opposite, in fact. God help me, I want everything with you. I want to marry you. I need to marry you. It is the only thing that I can think to do.”
She blinked, still feeling confused. “Why?”
He ran his hand through his hair again, brows furrowed as though he did not know how to answer her question. “Because.” He edged closer. “Because.” He placed one hand along the curve of her cheek and the other on her shoulder. Leaning forward, his breath whispered along her lips.
She could not help but part them.
“How could you not know?” He spoke very near her mouth and then...
“Know what?” Her voice came out a whisper.
“Eliza,” he whispered back, so close that she could taste his breath, the taste of man—the taste of only this man.
The tip of his tongue touched the soft flesh along her lips. Softly.
Gently.
Unable to stand it a second longer, she slid her fingers into his hair and pulled his head down so that his lips could claim hers completely.
And oh, oh. Yes!
His tongue thrust past her teeth, tasting, his mouth, demanding. He required no additional encouragement.
He pulled her up and against his solid frame as she twisted to be closer.
She remembered how kissing him before had been arousing, fiery and then satisfying.
But this kiss.
It was all of that but also so much more.
He’d said he wanted to marry her. She was not mistaken. He’d not gone after the special license out of some misplaced duty or honor.
He’d said he wanted her.
Eliza arched her back, her skin craving his lips, his hands, and a low groan rumbled in his chest.
“Eliza.” He broke the kiss, settling his mouth on the soft skin of her cheek. He lifted one hand to return the bodice of her gown to its more modest position.
His hand trembled as he did so.
“What do I need to know? Henry?” She needed him to say it.
A shudder ran through him. “I love you.” He spoke the words against her skin. “But it’s not fair that I should have you. I know.”
She shook her head.
How had this happened? Less than one week ago, she’d been quite comfortably settled into her position with her brother.
But no. She must be honest with herself.
She’d wanted more.
She’d wanted this.
The doorknob rattled and Eliza jerked away, smoothing her dress and skirt.
“Eliza?” Upon seeing they were presentable, Olivia pushed the door open and was followed inside by Lord Kingsley.
Henry’s hand covered hers, as though he knew she might be nervous.
When she went to rise, Kingsley gestured for her to remain sitting. “Miss Cline, Crestwood.” He acknowledged them both. He and Olivia took seats on the sofa across from them, appearing quite solemn. Leaning forward, resting his forearms upon his knees, the earl then stared hard at Eliza. “Your brother is anxious to proceed with a ceremony.”
She squeezed Henry’s hand and turned to meet his gaze. Green eyes burned back at her with purposeful intensity. And then he shifted off of the settee without releasing her hand but dropping to one knee.
Tears filled Eliza’s eyes.
He loves me.
“Eliza,” Henry began as though they were still alone. “I don’t deserve you. God knows, I’ve made my share of mistakes. but I have learned from them, I believe. I will do stupid things in the future. I might forget a birthday or our anniversary, or perhaps fail to notice that you’ve bought a new bonnet or gown. I am only a man.” He lifted that one side of his mouth, causing her heart to melt. “But my main purpose in life, from this point forward, will be to love my wife and my children, to make them happy—to protect them and keep them safe. I love you, Eliza. Make me the happiest of men? Please? Even though I don’t deserve it. Will you, Eliza? Will you marry me?”
She’d never heard of a more sincere or heartfelt proposal.
So choked up, she could hardly speak, and so she nodded. And then, nodding more emphatically, “Yes. Oh, yes, Henry!”
She didn’t care that Olivia and her earl looked on. She loved him! After all these years, she never would have believed he’d come back. And then she’d never have believed they could overcome what they’d done.
She threw herself into his arms and buried her face in his neck. “I will.”
She was hardly aware of Olivia’s delighted laughter, nor of her brother entering the room.
But Henry managed to somehow lift them both back onto their seats and tuck her in beside him.
“Eliza.” Looking considerably less riled than he had the day before, her brother stepped forward. “I need to return to Misty Brooke with all haste.” He coughed into his hand, something he only did when he was feeling nervous. “But I’d be honored to preside over your nuptials.”
Thomas, her dear, dear brother Thomas. She rose and crossed to him. She could never pay him back for everything he’d done for her. And he’d wanted only to protect her. She took his hands in hers and squeezed them. His eyes shone brightly, as though holding back tears. “Will you, Thomas?”
“I’ve the license right here, Cline,” Henry spoke up behind her. “If Eliza has no objections…?”
Eliza turned to look back at Henry and smiled. “I have none.”
“A wedding! A Christmas Eve wedding!” Olivia declared.
“We have clergy here. Crestwood has the license.” Lord Kingsley glanced at all of them. “Olivia and I are more than happy to act as witnesses….”
“Now?” Eliza blinked. Ah, but yes, Thomas had Christmas services to hold. And they’d already waited so very long.
Henry took her hand in his. “Only if you are certain?”
She could not remember the last time she’d felt as though happiness could be in her grasp. The only objection she could think of… “We need to locate Bartholomew and Charlotte!”
And then the door opened again.
But of course, they’d been waiting outside all along, their cheeks still flushed from spending most of the morning outdoors in the cold. All smiles. And behind them, Crawford and his duchess holding their little one.
“You are going to do it then?” Bartholomew looked quite satisfied with himself.
“Surely, you didn’t think we would not know?” Dear, dear Charlotte smiled at her father.
“We quite approve,” Henry’s son announced and his daughter nodded.
The remaining Smith children peeked in just then, followed by Lady Martha, Lady Cora, and a chagrined-looking Joseph Fellowes, accompanied by Lady Lillian.
“May we witness as well?” the duchess asked.
Thomas raised a bible in one hand and lifted a questioning brow.
“Eliza?” Henry asked. “I think it’s about time, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Absolutely.” Eliza smiled, feeling all the magic of Christmas and so much more. “Absolutely.”
Epilogu
e
The Perfect Christmas
None of it seemed real.
Not the gold band that shone on her left hand, nor the singing, nor the congratulations of all the other guests, nor the magnificent meal the cook at Sky Manor had prepared for the evening.
But it was. Somehow, it was.
Eliza stared at herself in the mirror. Sally had only just finished brushing out her hair and disappeared for the evening.
Olivia had moved her into a much larger chamber for this Christmas Eve night. It was adjoined with another suite, from which she could hear her husband and his valet moving about.
Henry would be joining her shortly.
She had waited so very long.
Only one week ago, she’d considered herself invisible. She leaned forward and touched her lips. Not invisible today.
No, she’d become a wife, a stepmother. She’d been a bride.
Every Christmas wish she’d ever made had come true in the matter of one afternoon.
The sounds subsided from the adjoining room and then a light knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” she beckoned and turned to face him. She wanted a good look at him, at her husband, before removing her spectacles for the evening.
The door swung open slowly. And her breath caught.
He wore an evergreen silk banyan, nearly the same color of his eyes, tied loosely at his waist. His hair had been combed, and she could tell he’d been freshly shaved.
Eliza bit her lip. It had been so long.
They’d had that one embrace in the drawing-room, before his proposal, and then a brief kiss at the end of the solemn ceremony performed by Thomas, but since then, they’d both been gushed over and congratulated and not given even two minutes to be alone in one another’s company.
Suddenly, her heart raced, and she wasn’t quite sure what she ought to do.
Henry closed the door behind him without removing his gaze from her.
“You are ready? I have not come too soon, have I?” He seemed only slightly hesitant.
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