Fresh faced, with more balls than brains, and thinking there was no one in this entire world he’d prefer to spend his life with, he’d put himself in front of a monster. And, of course, her father had refused him.
Then later, after his financial burdens were made known, the man had made it a point to remind Ben of their conversation, and the denigrations he’d made. And so, it seemed to Ben that he had managed to live up to every disparaging word.
Not only had he despised himself for what he’d become, he’d feared what he would spy in Alexandra’s eyes… so he’d avoided her entirely. And then, when he saw her again, and she looked at him with such disdain… he simply couldn’t bear it.
Discomfited perhaps, Alexandra peered over his shoulder, out the window, and then up over their heads, and her breath caught, drawing Ben’s attention to a small sprig of mistletoe hanging over their heads.
He grinned then, hardly inclined to let this pass without pressing his advantage… and yet, before doing so, he intended to give her one last chance to walk away…
“It’s everywhere,” she said apologetically, as though its presence were entirely her fault, and yet she didn’t leave. She stood, glancing again out the window.
Ben waited… but for what, he didn’t precisely know—perhaps to savor the moment, to remember the way she looked this very moment, with her lovely green morning dress and her curls haphazardly escaping her coif.
She did, indeed, look a bit worse for the wear, but it didn’t matter to him one bit.
He and Lexie stood together so long that after a time, Alexandra spied travelers traipsing through the snow and she tipped her chin so Ben would look as well.
Slowly but surely, a company of carolers took form—traveling from the direction of the Palace. They came laden with gifts, their voices carrying along the sun-warmed winter air, and in that moment, Ben couldn’t explain the swell of emotion that compelled him, but he reached out to take Alexandra’s hand, his heart hammering fiercely. Much to his relief, she accepted it without question, and still he waited… only wanting her to be certain.
After everything they’d endured, he didn’t want to marry Alexandra to spite her father—that was the furthest thing from his mind. But, in that moment, he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he still wished to marry her, and he didn’t intend to kiss her until he knew she wanted the same.
Downstairs, the carolers came near enough that they could hear them, singing…
Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin, Mother, Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace…
And when they were close enough to serenade from the stoop, Ben turned, releasing her hand only to clasp Alexandra by the arms, turning her to face him. “Lexie,” he began, and the world faded away.
* * *
There was a certain something in Ben’s eyes… something Alexandra remembered and realized she missed so desperately.
Was this happening, truly?
She held her breath, hardly able to speak, much less breathe.
In the space of a few days, something had changed between them—something she couldn’t put a finger on, but it was evident nonetheless—in Benji’s eyes, in the way he was looking at her right now…
“Are you in love?” asked a child’s voice.
Alexandra gasped aloud, turning to spy the bearer of the voice. “Drina!”
The future Queen of England stood peeking about the bannister, grinning. Tiny as she was at twelve, she was already shedding the bearing of a child, acquiring the command of a queen, and curiosity danced in her clear blue eyes.
Ben gave the child a reverent nod, and said, “Yes, I do believe we are, Your Highness.” And then he turned to Lexie, and asked, “Are we?”
Tears swam in Alexandra’s eyes. “Yes,” she said. “I do believe we are.”
“Well,” said Drina excitedly, clapping her hands with all the enthusiasm of a child on her birthday. “My mother says I shall wed my cousin one day, and I think the two of you should be wed as well!”
There was nothing that could have prepared Alexandra for the majesty of the moment. Benjamin gave the royal child a dutiful bow, then a nod and a smile. “Your wish is my command,” he said to Drina, then he fell to his knees before Alexandra.
“Alexandra Grace,” he said, once again taking Lexie by the hand. “Would you do me the honor of agreeing to become my lawful, wedded wife?”
“Wait!” said Drina. “You’ll need a promise ring!” And she removed a small emerald ring from her thumb and rushed forward to give it to Ben.
Outside, the carolers came closer, sang louder, and if either Alexandra or Ben had any inclination to look, they might have glimpsed the Duchess of Kent amidst other royal guests—King William, too. Having been apprised of the impending birth of a royal child, they’d arrived bearing gifts and singing a song for the child to be born this eve.
“Will you marry me?” asked Ben, as he held up the gifted ring for her inspection.
Alexandra swallowed her emotion. “I will,” she said, and Benjamin slid the ring onto her small finger. Peering up then, over her head, he grinned. And perhaps he shouldn’t have needed to pluck a drupe for this kiss, but very, very slowly, and very purposely, he rose up to snap a drupe, showing it first to Alexandra, and when she nodded, he took her into his arms and drew her close. And this time there was no hesitation at all as he wrapped his arms about her to collect his long-overdue mistletoe kiss.
From her vantage upon the stairs, Drina clapped very exuberantly and squealed with delight. “Huzzah!” she shouted. “Huzzah!”
Inside the birthing chamber, Chloe howled, and her husband yowled.
Downstairs, in the foyer, the front door opened to admit the royal carolers amidst swirls of snow… but Benjamin Dylan Wentworth wasn’t the least bit interested in what was happening anywhere but here… in his arms.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you,” she said.
And then, truly, there were no more words. Benjamin’s fingers splayed on her back, pulling her close… his lips descended upon Alexandra’s, molding themselves against the soft-warm, supple flesh of her lips. And he kissed her thoroughly and tenderly… a smoldering, but gentle kiss hot enough to warm Lexie to the very depths of her soul.
Below stairs the carolers sang a brand-new song.
“Deck the halls with boughs of holly
Fa la la la la la la la la
* * *
This is not the end… keep turning the pages until you reach the epilogue—but only if you dare…
EPILOGUE
DECEMBER 20, 1834
“Ben!”
The single word was, indeed, a rebuke, but rather than hold in its timbre any true censure, it was gentle, forbearing, and filled with good humor. Alexandra experienced an acute sense of deja vu as she worked very desperately to finish one last sketch before the household turned into a veritable circus.