She shook her head. “Of course it was. I only meant that they do not know you as well as I do. After all, I’ve known you forever and I…I…” She had nowhere to go with him now before her, blocking her only exit.
Reaching out, he gently brushed her cheek with his fingers. “I have no interest in your cousins, Amanda.”
“You…you don’t?” Her eyes were wide with confusion. “But I thought–”
“Yes, you did, but you were mistaken.” His fingers traced the delicate structure of her jawline, leaving a deep blush in their wake. “You see, the thing of it is, there is only one woman I care for, except I never dared hope she might care for me as well – until now. Do you care for me, Amanda?”
He saw the longing in her eyes as realization dawned, and knew she’d respond in the affirmative before she nodded her answer. As soon as she did, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank God, for I don’t think I could have borne it if you didn’t.” And then he did what he’d wanted to do for so long. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, chasing away whatever remaining doubts she might have about him wanting someone else.
Her lips parted and he was there, coaxing her and tasting her until they both gasped for breath. It was beautiful – magical – everything he’d dreamed of for as long as he could remember.
“I will speak to your father tomorrow,” he promised while pressing his cheek to hers moments later.
“This is indeed the best Christmas ever,” she said and promptly returned her mouth to his for another smoldering kiss.
“I couldn’t agree more.” Leaning back, he tucked a stray lock behind her ear.
She suddenly frowned. “I hope I won’t have forgotten about all of this in the morning. After all, I did have my fair share of brandy.”
Peter grinned. “That you did.” He placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead. “Fear not though – I shall leave you a note to remind you of all that has happened.”
Amanda woke the following morning, groaning in response to the pounding headache that threatened to split her skull in two. She rolled onto her side and opened her eyes to find a crisp piece of paper perched on her bedside table. Picking it up, she frowned, read it, and finally leapt from her bed in a state of total and utter bliss. She hadn’t forgotten, but Peter’s words made her heart sing with joy:
In case you fail to recall last night’s events, allow me to tell you that I love you, Amanda, that I have always loved you, and that I will never cease loving you. I hope you will do me the very great honor of marrying me, though it goes without saying that a formal proposal is in order. After all, you deserve the very best.
With the deepest affection and admiration,
Peter.
P.S. I have a Christmas present waiting for you downstairs.
December 2
A Royal Affair on Christmas Eve
“If we’d only left before the last snowfall, we might have returned to England for Christmas,” Francesca said as she peered at the winter landscape, her palm pressed against the frosty window pane.
“The snow would still have been too high for our carriage,” her mother, Lady Redfirn, said. “We wouldn’t have made it very far before getting stuck.”
“Which is why I decided it would be better to remain here where it’s dry,” Lord Redfirn said. He’d pulled his chair as close to the fireplace as possible and was happily drinking a glass of what he claimed to be excellent brandy.
Francesca sighed, then watched as her breath fogged the window. Her parents were right of course, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t rather be home amidst her familiar belongings and enjoying the comfort of her cozy bedchamber rather than feeling chilled in a drafty German castle. “We ought to replace that bottle you’ve been drinking from before we depart, Papa.”
“Fran is correct, my dear,” Lady Redfirn said. “We’ve already imposed on Prince Ludwig enough, and without his knowledge, I might add. It wouldn’t do for him to return and find his reserves completely depleted – least of all in the middle of winter.”
“Oh, he won’t return any time soon. According to his man of affairs, the prince will be away until spring, but I agree with the point you’re making.”
“Did you remember to speak with the cook about Christmas dinner?” Francesca asked her mother as she moved away from the window and strode to the fireplace. Turning her back on it, she enjoyed the heat wafting over her even as she pulled her shawl tighter.
“Yes. Apparently there’s a goose she can prepare along with some mixed vegetables. There will even be a plum pudding for dessert,” Lady Redfirn said.
Satisfied that they would not go hungry and that they’d be able to celebrate Christmas to some degree of satisfaction, Francesca settled in a chair adjacent to her father’s and picked up the embroidery she’d abandoned earlier.
That evening, they had soup for supper, accompanied by thick slices of salted ham, which encouraged Francesca to drink more wine than usual. So when her parents decided to retire an hour after the meal had ended and they’d had tea in front of the fireplace, she chose to go outside for a bit of fresh air.
“Don’t stay too long,” Lady Redfirn cautioned.
“And don’t go too far,” Lord Redfirn said.
“I plan to check on the animals in the stable,” Francesca told them. “I’ll come upstairs to bed soon.”
Wrapped in her pelisse, she stepped out into the cold. It nipped at her cheeks and chilled the tip of her nose as she walked along the driveway toward the stables. All was still, except for the snow squeaking beneath her feet and the sound of her deep breaths. Each inhalation sent frigid air rushing into her lungs, cooling her from within until she expelled it as a mist.
Reaching the stables, she pulled the door open and stepped inside, then closed it quickly to avoid a draft. Although the air wasn’t overly warm, it was still more pleasant than outside, the smell of clean hay and the glow from lanterns hanging under the ceiling creating a cozy atmosphere that Francesca appreciated far more than the grandeur of the castle.
“Hello?” she called, checking if any of the grooms were around.
An unfamiliar man’s head popped out from one of the stalls, dark strands of hair falling into a pair of equally dark eyes. Dimples formed on either side of his mouth as he offered Francesca a smile. “Can I help you?” he asked, studying her with interest.
Francesca’s chest tightened a little while an odd sensation swept through her stomach, leaving her slightly dizzy. She shook herself and straightened her back. She would not allow herself to be affected by the handsome features of a groom. “I wanted to take a short walk before retiring for the evening and decided to look in on the horses.”
His gaze swept over her, sending a shiver down her spine. She decided to give him the set–down he clearly deserved, but before she managed to speak, he waved for her to come closer. “I was just cleaning Wolfgang’s hooves, but he’s going to need brushing as well. You’re welcome to help if you like. There’s a brush just there on that hook.” Then he disappeared back inside the stall.