“Me–Merry Christmas,” she whispered. A delightful shade of pink colored her cheeks.
“I wish I had something to give you in return.” He placed the handkerchief reverently on the bedside table and, without further contemplation, reached for her hand.
She started with a gasp, but did not pull away, which pleased him so damn much it boggled his mind. He’d only met her a few hours earlier, yet in that brief time, she’d shown herself to be precisely the sort of woman he’d like to form a deeper attachment with – the sort of woman with whom he could envision both courtship and marriage.
So he held her hand and fought his way past the unfamiliar nervousness turning his stomach upside down. Finally, he dared to say, “Perhaps, if it’s not too bold, I could thank you with a kiss.”
A startled laugh burst from between her lips before fading just as abruptly into silence. Those hazel–colored eyes showed not only interest but an answering desire even as her gaze swept to the door. “It is indeed too bold, Mr. Clemmens.”
“Please call me Anthony, and I hope you can forgive me for you are indeed correct. It is just that…” He shook his head, unsure of how to explain how he felt or even if doing so would be wise.
“What?” she asked, leaning in slightly and holding his hand a bit tighter.
The urgency in her voice, the apparent need for him to be totally honest with her, compelled him to say, “You are by far the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. In every regard.”
A blush colored her cheeks. “Thank you.” She hesitated briefly before adding, “Anthony.”
The sound of his name, whispered as though it were sacred, sent his pulse racing. And yet, being the honorable man he was, he had no choice but to let her go when she withdrew her hand moments later. She stood, hovering briefly by his bedside before she finally wished him good night. “Sleep well.”
Returning the sentiment, he watched her go until the door closed behind her.
Much to his relief, she returned the next day and the one after. They played cards, chatted about their lives, and shared their innermost hopes and dreams while he recovered his strength. These moments, accompanied by the occasional touch, the hint of shared longing for something more, and the keen awareness of his impending departure, were priceless to him.
“Teresa,” he began when the hour grew late once again and she started to leave. He reached for her hand and drew her back to him. “I cannot begin to express how grateful I am to the storm for forcing me stop here at your home. Meeting you has been…life altering. So much so, I’d like to further our acquaintance with every intention of determining whether we might be able to share a future. I…I can see I have shocked you and indeed, I must confess I’ve shocked myself, for I am never so swift to act with regard to important decisions. But… I fear I’d regret leaving here without some sort of understanding. Unless you’re already spoken for, in which case I must beg your pardon for my presumptuousness. I just didn’t imagine… I mean you never mentioned a fiancé but that doesn’t mean you do not have one.”
A slow grin formed upon her lips. “I am not spoken for by anyone as of yet, but I’d like to hope I might be within the coming days.”
His pulse leapt. “Does that mean you’re willing to reconsider my request for a kiss?”
She moved a bit closer, until he could practically hear expectation ignite between them. “As scandalous as a kiss shared in your bedchamber with the door open would be, I cannot deny the need I have to be near you, to learn every detail of your life, and to understand why you are so thankful for the slightest kindness.”
“Perhaps it is because I have seen the worst of the world. In my experience, kindness is a luxury reserved for only a handful of people.”
She held his gaze. “Perhaps I was too hasty in denying your gift the other evening.”
Anthony’s breath caught in response to her words. He pushed himself upright so he could meet her at eye level. “Perhaps?”
“No.” He saw his yearning reflected back at him as she spoke. “Without a doubt.”
“You’re certain?” he asked, just to be sure. “I have no wish to press my advances upon you or take advantage. Teresa, you are a duke’s daughter while I’m just a captain, so although I have managed quite well for myself, I can understand if–”
“My father’s only wish is to see me happy, so if you’re the man I want, he will give his blessing.”
Years of feeling adrift without an anchor loosened its grip on Anthony’s soul. The words she’d just spoken, the promise and hope they gave him, set him free in a way the sea never could. So he took the chance she offered and pulled her to him, kissing her gently at first and then with greater fervor, aware that this was what he’d always been seeking. Now, in a manor far from the shores he’d run toward for most of his life, he’d finally found the love he’d been chasing since he was a boy.
December 12
At the Christmas Ball
Hugh Lysander, Viscount Ashbyrne, ground his teeth in frustration. The Christmas ball for which his servants had spent the last week preparing was without doubt the most spectacular one yet. Pine garlands wrapped in red ribbons infused the air with a woodsy scent. The luminescent glow from chandeliers and wall sconces bounced off crystal beaded ropes strung up under the ceiling. Already he’d watched several couples kiss beneath the various bunches of mistletoe he’d hoped to use to his own advantage.
And yet, his wife remained absent.
He downed the rest of his champagne and turned, prepared to see what was keeping the maddening woman away, only to come face to face with his longtime friend, the Earl of Whaite.
“Ho there, Ashbyrne.” A wide smile spread across Whaite’s face. “What are you doing standing in this corner alone when there’s dancing to be done?”
Hugh attempted a smile, but doubted he managed more than a grimace. “You know I’ve never enjoyed such sport.”
Whaite’s eyebrows arched dramatically as he rocked back on his heels. His gaze swept the room. “I’d have thought that delightful wife of yours might tempt you. By the by, where is the enchanting lady? I’ve not yet seen her.”
Hugh tightened his hold on his glass until he feared it would pulverize. Unwilling to reveal the disaster that was his marriage, he shrugged one shoulder. “Seeing to some little detail somewhere, I’ll wager.”
“Hmm…”
Hugh didn’t care for the look of surprise his friend gave him. Most likely, he wasn’t the only one to notice Caroline’s absence. Others would inquire after her soon and Hugh had every intention of making himself scarce before that happened.
“If you’ll excuse me, Whaite,” he told his friend. “I was actually off to change my shoes when you happened upon me. This pair is already giving me blisters. I’ll see you when I return. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes or so. We’ll catch up then.”
“All right.” Whaite frowned but said nothing further, allowing Hugh the retreat he desired.
Entering the hallway beyond, he deposited his empty glass on a table and marched toward the front of the house. He took the stairs two at a time while anger expanded inside him. Posture tense, he stepped onto the landing and turned toward his wife’s bedchamber door. Having married to settle a gambling debt between their fathers, they’d been at odds since the plan to see them wed first materialized. Before that, he’d counted Caroline as a friend, though not a close one. They’d met at social events, danced on a few occasions and…