Penny's Yuletide Wish: A Regency Romance Novella (Branches of Love Book 7)

by Sally Britton

  The woman to Penny’s right gasped and shot them a dark look, which caused Penny to blush. “Oh, I beg your pardon.” Fleas were not, apparently, a topic permitted while dancing. Yet Penny started to smile at him as they took the opportunity to join hands and execute a series of steps and turns before stepping into place, higher up the row than before.

  “What brought that memory to your mind?” she asked when they settled to stare at one another again, waiting for their turn in the dance.

  Though he could not admit his real purpose, Robert had another answer readily at hand. “I am fairly certain that I was the one littering your entry with my offers of consolation in those days. So, you cannot say you have never had such attentions.”

  She glowered at him, though a smile still tugged at her lips. “You were fourteen, Mr. Robert Ellsworth. I am not certain that counts as a gentleman giving a lady his attention.”

  They both laughed, then took up the dance again, looping around each other with barely more than a brush of their fingers, then back away again, bowing to the partners on either side of them and waiting once more to move up to the head of the dancing couples.

  He had missed her. Missed her laughter, her jests, the way her lips curled upward slowly just before she allowed herself to give in to her humor. The girl he had known was there, but she had changed, too.

  Almost as though she had followed his trail of thought, Penny said, “You have grown so much taller. It is not at all fair that I have stayed precisely the same height since I was fifteen.”

  Without a care for where they were, Robert hunched his shoulders and dropped his head forward, chin on his chest. “Is that better? I should not wish you to feel too short.”

  She laughed and swatted his arm before taking it as the dance called for, then turned and walked around another couple. They were nearly halfway down the row at this point, the dance itself half over. He hated that. If only he could stay dancing with her all evening.

  “I quite prefer your new height, thank you.” She tipped her head to one side, a chestnut curl falling artfully to brush against her bare neck as she did. The look she gave him was almost flirtatious, which made his heart perform acrobatics it had no business even practicing.

  Robert needed to change the subject, needed to stop flirting. Nothing could come of it. Entering into a flirtation with Penny wouldn’t be a friendly thing to do, but selfish, and it would only hurt when she left at the end of Twelfth Night. “My height does come in handy on occasion,” he quipped, trying to sound more indifferent and less teasing.

  “I imagine you can reach all the highest shelves in the library and the best plums in the trees.” She tossed him a saucy look over her shoulder when she bowed to the gentleman at his right, then looped around the woman to hers. In another few moments, they faced each other again. The dance kept them moving, but it hardly interrupted their conversation. There were too many couples performing each movement.

  “I can also reach the shelf where the apothecary keeps the sweets,” he admitted, somewhat gruffly, watching as her hips swayed just a touch with her movement. He snatched his eyes back. Only a cad would notice such a thing, he was certain, especially in a best friend. How could he get back on an even footing with her? Teasing had swiftly led to flirting and he could not do that.

  Friendship was the order of the evening. Perhaps he ought not dance the rest of the set with her. He needed to clear his head. To make sense of where he had gone wrong.

  “I wish it were not such dreadful weather,” she said, forcing him back to the conversation. “I should like to go exploring all our old haunts, but I imagine most are mired in mud and are not fit to be seen at present. If the pond would freeze over as it did when we were younger, we could go skating.”

  The childish games of the past were a safe topic, even if the way she regarded him made his heart stutter. “Skating, building villages of snow people, and running home to hot cider after. Those were the best of days, were they not?”

  “They were. Then you always had to go and ruin things by returning to school.” She gave him a look of mock disapproval. “I missed you so when you left at the end of every holiday.”

  They were veering into dangerous territory again. Robert cleared his throat. He would not admit how much he disliked leaving her behind, and he certainly would not tell her how much he had missed her when he returned home, knowing she would never be there to greet him again. The loss of her parents had to have devastated her. The loss of her company had left him in mourning for quite some time.

  “How have you kept yourself entertained these last several years without me?” The slight flirtation in his question surprised him. Had she sensed the hopefulness in how he spoke to her? Robert needed to steer the conversation another direction, needed her to speak of the same details she would share with a near stranger. Yet he wanted to ask after her thoughts, her dreams, and her heart. He cleared his throat. “I am sure you managed perfectly well, of course.”

  If she did not think him a bumbling fool by the end of the evening, he would be grateful.

  Chapter 6

  Men were entirely too confusing. One moment Robert jested with her, the next he pulled back as though they barely knew one another. Though many years had passed, the moment Penny laid eyes upon him she knew what mattered most, their connection and friendship, had not changed. She had worried their second meeting would be as strange as the first but knew now she had only taken him by surprise the day before. Having anticipated seeing him all day long, and hoping he did the same, made it that much easier to converse as though the intervening years had never been.

  Except that Robert kept dancing about in the conversation as he was in the figures required for the country dance.

  “I have done as most young ladies. I entered a new school for a short time, then kept my aunt company. I write my brothers long letters; they hardly write at all.” Penny shifted from one foot to the other, taking in Robert’s easy posture and the slant of his shoulders with approval. He had grown into an attractive man, which made a great deal of sense as he had been an attractive boy. Not that she had ever told him such a thing. “I understand you have had a great deal to busy yourself as well. Your education and now your new position.”

  Robert’s shoulders drooped and his expression tightened. “Ah. You have heard about that.” He did not sound especially enthusiastic to discuss his work. “Mr. Devon needed assistance. I am fortunate I was nearby when he expressed his thoughts on the matter. It was actually his wife, formerly Miss Ames, who suggested we might suit each other.”

  That made Penny laugh. “I remember Daisy Ames quite well. She would be sensible enough to suggest such an arrangement. Isn’t it interesting how the two of them are now wed? You never quite expect matches like that, between people you know.” Indeed, she had learned that many of her childhood friends had wed the very same boys who were friends with her brothers and with Robert.

  He had gone all stiff again with the turn in their conversation. Did speaking of the Devons make him uncomfortable, as they were his employers? Or was it marriage he objected to? With no wish to make him miserable, Penny changed subjects again, babbling on about her brothers. She did not speak about Frederick long, for he was soon to wed, but she could mention Daniel’s place in the army with ease.

  Slowly, Robert relaxed, and even asked questions. He did not tease her again. Perhaps she had been too forward. Just because she felt as though nothing between them had changed did not mean he felt the same. The only topics she would discuss would be those permitted among the most proper and polite of society.

  This meant the conversation grew duller with each passing moment, and they finished the first dance at the head of the line. The musicians paused, accepting the applause as their due. Robert shifted around to look at her, and Penny realized with a start that he had never accepted, never actually asked, for more than the one dance. It had been she who presumptuously said he must mean a set instead of a single da
nce.

  The right thing to do would be to allow him to escape, if he wished. Perhaps there was another young lady he wished to spend his evening with. What if he had only sought out Penny out of obligation to their former friendship? Heart stricken at the thought, Penny spoke without as much grace as she had meant.

  “That was my fifth dance this evening. As we are very old friends, would you mind terribly if I used this time to get some refreshment? Perhaps I need some fresh air as well.” She looked in the direction of the tall windows and the doors leading out to a balcony and the gardens. If he abandoned her, she would know at once she had misunderstood the appreciative look in his eyes when she accepted his offer of a dance. She would see that she had been away too long, that she meant nothing to him.

  His expression faltered, looking disappointed rather than relieved. At least, that was what she thought the downturn of his lips communicated, the fall of his shoulders bespeaking defeat rather than relaxation.

  “Of course,” he said, tone softer than before. “If that is what you wish. Would you like me to return you to your aunt, or fetch you a lemonade? Cider, perhaps?” His eyes searched hers, darting across her face.

  Tamping down her own relief, Penny offered him a small smile. They had moved away from the dancing, standing beneath the landing where the chaperones and matrons stood above the din conversing. “That is kind of you. Perhaps we—”

  “Robert.” A stern male voice broke through her words, startling her. They both turned to see a man who appeared strikingly similar to Robert, though broader in shoulder and somewhat less attractive in Penny’s opinion, standing no more than three feet from them. “Do the right thing, or I shall swoop in and accomplish the matter for you.” Then Samuel—for who else could it be?—looked pointedly upward.

  Penny’s eyes darted up, along with Robert’s, and her lips parted in surprise. A kissing ball. She had forgotten all about them, had not given them another thought once she had spotted Robert; the fear of being caught beneath one with a stranger had disappeared in her delight of being with her dearest of friends.

  When her eyes fell again to meet Robert’s gaze, she could not name the myriad of emotions flashing in his eyes, but she easily recognized the embarrassment coloring his cheeks and ears. Was she too plain to even kiss? Her heart fell clear to her stomach, and she went cold all over.

  “Robert,” she murmured, “you do not have to if you do not want to.” Someone else, a gentleman she thought she recognized, appeared near Samuel’s shoulder, a woman on his arm.

  “Ah, has that kissing ball caught another couple?” He nodded to the woman on his arm. “I confess, my wife and I had a similar difficulty but moments ago.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively and grinned. “Only one thing for it, old man.”

  The woman tossed her head and laughed; the sound was not unkind, yet it did all the more damage to Penny’s fragile heart. “Do not mind him, miss. What he does not know is that I tricked him beneath the mistletoe myself.”

  Did Robert think she had done that to him? Tricked him? Penny met his eyes again, frantically trying to communicate to him she had not even noticed the kissing ball. Oh, if he had a young lady to please somewhere in the crowd, would this make her angry? If Robert was Penny’s suitor, she would not like to learn of him kissing anyone else, kissing ball or not.

  The embarrassment had disappeared from his features and, in its place, a look of determination met her. His eyes darkened, staring at her with an intensity she did not understand. Did he mean to reject her, then? But then he bent forward, and just before his lips touched hers whispered three words for her ears only. “I am sorry.” Then he kissed her, and everything within her warmed with pleasure even though tears sprung to her eyes.

  Sorry? She had dreamed of this kiss since she was fifteen years old and realized she had fallen in love with her best friend. Except this was not how it was supposed to happen. And Robert, in her dreams, had been as eager as she to experience the blissful moment of their first kiss.

  Warmth curled in her stomach, despite her aching heart. The kiss lasted no more than a few seconds. Long enough that no one could tease Robert over a peck, but quick enough none could mistake it for more than what it had been—an obligation.

  Penny stepped back as soon as Robert’s lips left hers, curling her hands into fists. She tried to laugh, but the sound came out somewhat strangled. She could not look at him. Would not meet his eyes. Instead, she looked directly at Samuel.

  “There, now you will have to try your luck with some other lady, sir.” She curtsied. “Always good to see you, Mr. Ellsworth.” Though she looked at Samuel, she swiftly took her leave of Robert.

  As she dashed away, making directly for her aunt spied in the corner, a tear slipped from her eye. She brushed it away with one gloved finger and pasted on a smile to rival the chandeliers in its brightness. Penny had no intention of communicating her feelings to the whole room.

  In a single moment, a lifelong friendship had been ruined. How could she face Robert again, knowing how much he had disliked even the idea of kissing her beneath the mistletoe?

  Chapter 7

  Robert could have kissed Penny a thousand times over and never grown weary of it. Of that he was certain from the instant their lips touched to when they parted. With his brother and the ridiculous couple looking on, Robert had to keep his feet planted firmly in reality, however.

  Though Penny had disappeared too quickly for Robert to take hold of his senses and follow, he did not forget to reach up and claim one of the silver berries from the kissing ball. Then he had grabbed Samuel by the arm and dragged him into a corner to give his brother a severe dressing-down.

  With the berry tucked in his waistcoat pocket, Robert left the ball. He had no wish to see the hurt in Penny’s eyes again, nor try to spend the whole night avoiding her. One ridiculous tradition had somehow ruined everything between them. All he had wanted, all he had hoped for, was an invitation to see her again before she left Annesbury and Kettering for wherever her aunt and uncle called home. He wanted time with her, to enjoy her presence, possibly to put some dreams away at last merely by saying a proper goodbye.

  Yet the ball had been a disaster, and the one sweet moment of the evening when he had been permitted to at long last kiss the girl he had admired for so long was bittersweet. That kiss had been the moment to ruin the ball for Penny. For him.

  The next morning, Robert instructed the footman assisting him during his stay to pack his things as he would return to his own home that evening.

  When he came down to breakfast, Peter was already present, the crumbs of his pastry hopefully not settling on the pages of the book he read at the table. “Robert, how was the ball?” his younger brother asked after a hasty swallow.

  Robert scowled and loaded a plate form the sideboard. “Tolerable.”

  “Then I am justified in my decision not to attend,” Peter said smartly, turning back to his book. “Every ball is nothing more than an extension of the marriage mart and I’m too young to be leg-shackled.”

  “Who is getting shackles?” Samuel asked, entering the room and having the audacity to walk about with a swagger.

  Dropping his plate on the table with more of a clatter than he intended, Robert winced as he groused. “No one.” Certainly not him. Not ever him. Who would deign him a suitable match? Perhaps a wealthy farmer’s daughter. A merchant’s daughter, even, if her father were not too successful. No one at that ball.

  “Are you still grumbling about the kissing incident?” Samuel turned from the sideboard, a spoon full of preserves still in his hand. “It was a kiss, Rob. Not a proposal.”

  Peter’s book closed with a snap. “What is all this about kissing?”

  “The room was littered with kissing balls,” Samuel informed their younger brother, a crooked smile on his face. “Robert had the misfortune, or so he views it, of standing directly beneath one such piece of greenery. With Miss Clark.”

  A low whistle es
caped Peter’s mouth, causing both his brothers to glare at him. Peter glanced from one to the other. “Are we not permitted to whistle in this house?”

  “Not at the table,” Samuel and Robert chorused together, and that finally broke through Robert’s sullen mood. He chuckled and added, “Mother never allowed it, so Father did not either.”

  “‘Good manners prohibit us making sounds like animals at the table,’” Samuel said, quoting their mother directly. She had passed ten years previous. “No whistling, grunting, growling, chirping, snorting, or howling.” He chuckled and leaned back in his chair.

  “I withdraw my whistle then.” Peter put his book on the table and folded his arms as he leaned back. “But do tell me about this incident with Miss Clark. Robert kissed her?”

  “Indeed. Which, given our previous conversation you might remember from yesterday, I was given to believe he would find the moment enjoyable. Instead, Robert faced down Miss Clark as though he had been asked to kiss a hedgehog.”

  “No.” Peter shifted to lean across the table toward Robert. “You were reluctant to kiss her?”

  “A gentleman does not discuss such things,” Robert muttered, stabbing at a piece of ham. Of course, his brothers would not let the subject go that easily.

  “Reluctant does not begin to describe it. The man had the very expression of a man going to the gallows.” Samuel buttered his toast with sudden strokes of the knife. “And she, poor woman, took the kiss in the same form. You have never seen a woman so disappointed—”

  “That does not speak well of your technique, Robert.” Peter laughed.

  Robert’s appetite fled. He dropped his face in his hands and rested his elbows upon the table. Discussing his thoughts and feelings regarding Penny would be foolish. Samuel, only suspecting Robert harbored more than friendship in his heart, had already made a mess of things, and Peter would be no help at all. “Can we leave off discussing Miss Clark, if you please? I would like to eat my breakfast in peace, and then it is Boxing Day. There are other things for us to accomplish.”