“Papa!” Lady Nichole’s voice pierced the chill morning air. “What have you done? Oh dear God, he was innocent, Papa, absolutely innocent.”
It was then that Madeleine met Blakely’s eyes and saw that he wasn’t as hurt as he’d appeared. On the contrary, he offered her a broad smile and relief swept through her.
“You’re unharmed,” she whispered.
Pushing himself off the ground, he got to his feet.
“Are you telling me I almost killed a man for no reason?” Hammerish asked his daughter harshly.
“I’m sorry, Papa, but I was desperate,” Lady Nichole pleaded. “Please forgive me.”
Hammerish’s face had gone from rosy to scarlet. “We will discuss this matter later in private. My sincerest apologies, Blakely. It appears I’ve wronged you most grievously.”
Blakely gave a curt nod. “Pride and honor prevented me from clearing my own name. I thank you for doing it for me, Lady Nichole.”
A sad smile tilted Lady Nichole’s lips. “If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you…”
“I will think on it,” Blakely said. Turning to Madeleine, he offered his arm. “Will you allow me to escort you home? I’d love to hear how frightened you were on my behalf.”
She rolled her eyes. “Only if you will tell me why you were lying in the snow.”
“I slipped and fell,” he said with a grin, “just as you did the other day.”
A blush deepened Lady Madeleine’s cheeks. “Then I suppose I must be honest with you as well,” she said. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life than I was just now when I thought Lord Hammerish might have killed you.”
“Oh?” Blakely felt his chest tighten. “Does that mean you still care for me?”
She scrunched her nose in an adoring way. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
He reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “Nothing at all,” he murmured. “Come, let’s get back to Mistledown. Tonight is Christmas Eve, after all, and I have something extra special in mind.”
Madeleine dared not wonder what that might be as he helped her up into the sleigh and settled down beside her.
Upon their return to the house, they were met by her grandmother, who stood in the doorway smiling, heedless of the snowflakes falling around her. “I was beginning to wonder when you would return.”
Madeleine tilted her head. “Why do I get the feeling you invited Blakely here with the intention of clearing his name?”
Her grandmother chuckled. “Perhaps because I did?”
“So you knew he was innocent all along?” Madeleine could scarcely believe it.
“Consider it an old woman’s intuition,” the duchess replied. With a grin, she turned and went back inside while Madeleine and Blakely stared after her.
Later that day, after a healthy meal of roast goose and venison, the guests adjourned to the music room, each with a glass of hot wassail. From across the room, Madeleine’s mother commenced playing “The First Noel”, while Madeleine’s father turned the music.
“I’ve yet to compliment you on your gown.” Blakely spoke at Madeleine’s shoulder when he came to stand beside her. “Green velvet suits you remarkably well.”
“Thank you,” she whispered as he took her arm and steered her toward a more private corner.
“After everything that has happened,” he said, holding her gaze until her stomach quivered, “is there any chance you would ever consider becoming my wife?”
Madeleine’s breath caught, her entire body trembling. She looked hesitantly toward her father, surprised to find his eyes upon her. With a smile, he gave her a little nod. Blakely must have spoken to him.
She returned her attention to the man before her. “Can you ever forgive me for doubting you?”
“I would have had my doubts too, had I been in your position. Please marry me, Maddy.”
How could she say no when he was all she’d ever wanted? “Nothing would please me more.”
“Is that so?” His tone was teasing as he raised his eyes to the ceiling.
Following his gaze, she spotted the mistletoe just as his lips met hers.
“I do so love you,” she whispered when they finally pulled apart.
“As I love you,” he murmured. “Merry Christmas, my future countess.”
Madeleine’s heart soared. There could be no denying that this year’s Christmas was going to be extraordinarily special.
December 9
Underneath the Mistletoe
Fluffy white flakes fell with lazy abandon around the southbound carriage. Seated inside, Edward Reeves, Earl of Lakefield, passed the time conversing with his friend, Henry Stuart. The pair had met at Eton and had gone on to study at Cambridge together. This wasn’t the first time Edward accompanied Henry to his family home for a holiday visit, but it was the first time since Henry had warned his friend away from his sister. That had been three years ago and while Edward had been affronted by Henry’s highhandedness at the time, he now realized he’d been correct.
“I’m glad you invited me to join you again,” Edward said. Christmas wasn’t the same at his home. In fact, it came and went without fuss, much like any other day. A shame, he thought, since the holiday had been his mother’s favorite, but after her passing one Christmas Eve nearly ten years ago, his father refused to celebrate the day that had taken her from him. “Turns out I rather miss Christmas pudding.”
“Could you not have your cook prepare it for you in secret?”
“No. Papa would have a fit if he found out. Best for me to get away from him altogether during this time of year. His mood gets progressively worse as the twenty–fourth approaches.
Henry frowned with grim consideration. “It must be difficult, to love someone so much and then lose them – to go on without your other half.”
Edward nodded. Mary Reeves had been his mother. He missed her every second of every day, but he refused to lock himself away forever and wallow in his grief the way his father did. He swallowed. “Life can be unexpectedly cruel.”
“Given your firsthand experience with this, one might expect you to try and protect your heart more – to run away from love rather than toward it. Yet here you are, determined to win Jane’s hand.”
“Only because you’ve finally deigned to allow it.” Edward gave his friend a pointed stare.
Henry smiled in that secretive manner he often applied when he knew a plan of his had proven successful. “You’re not the irresponsible scoundrel you were when I last brought you home. It was my fault. I should have known better.”
Edward dipped his chin. “You weren’t a saint yourself.”
“Which gave me a frightening insight to your intentions.” Henry crossed his arms. “Would you have trusted me with your sister back then?”
“I don’t have a sister, as you well know.”
“Another female relation then, like a niece or cousin?”
Edward frowned. “No. I’d have treated you like the randy buck you were.”
“My point exactly. But that’s behind us now, more or less. You’ve settled down and since you are the best man I know as well as my closest friend, there’s no one I’d rather she marry.”