An Enchanted Christmas Collection : Regency Romance

by Wendy Vella

  “My life is here, Max, not in London.”

  He looked up at the house behind him and located the children in an upper window, all crammed together in the small space peering down at them with Mrs. Bonny at their backs.

  “Then we will live here, but I insist on making repairs to this place.”

  He watched hope flash across her eyes and then it was gone.

  “Don't play with me, Max. It’s hurtful and beneath you.”

  He wasn't going to win this argument without support so he simply took her hand and dragged her back inside.

  “Where are we going?”

  He didn't speak, just towed her past the huge tree and up the stairs until he located the children, who had flown into seats and were now pretending they had not been pressed to the window just seconds before.

  “Move your feet, Hero,” he said urging her further into the room.

  “Max, what are you doing?”

  Ignoring her whispered words, he spoke to the children. “I want to marry Hero and live here with you all but she is reluctant to accept my proposal. Therefore, I would like to hear what you all think.”

  “No… Dear God, this is terrible,” Hero moaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

  “Will you beat us or cuff us about the ears?”

  “No, Owen,” Max said solemnly, knowing the boy had suffered these things at his father’s hand. “I will never raise a hand to you but I will discipline you if you misbehave.”

  “That's fair, don’t you think?” the boy said, looking at the others, who, in turn, nodded.

  “Will you kiss us goodnight and read us stories like Hero does?”

  “Uh, Emmaline, is it?” Max tried to find the right words as he addressed the little girl. “In truth, I have not had a lot of experience with children but I would like to learn and hope that you will teach me. I’m good at reading and I think a hug and a kiss goodnight are important parts of any child’s day.”

  Max felt sweat bead his brow as the children stared at him. Proposing to Hero had been easier than this.

  “All right, then. I like you cus you rescued Charlotte and Owen, so you can marry Hero.”

  “Because,” Max corrected the little girl.

  “You gonna correct us like Hero does all the time?” another little boy said in disgust.

  “Yes,” Max said simply.

  “Oh, well, leastways she’ll have company cus it ain’t easy having just us.”

  “I love having all of you! Surely you know that by now, Colin,” Hero cried, flying across the floor to hug the little boy.

  “I know you do, Hero, but sometimes you look a bit sad.”

  Max saw the tears in her eyes as she stood.

  “Do I?”

  All the children nodded.

  “I have another question.”

  “There, now. Surely we’ve asked enough of Lord Caruthers, Emmaline,” Mrs. Bonny said, coming to his rescue.

  “But does he love her? Me Ma once said nothing else matters if a man loves his woman.”

  Christ.

  All eyes were trained on him and even Hero had fallen silent and was looking his way. She had an expression that said she wondered how he was going to get out of this one. Obviously, she didn’t think she was worthy of his love.

  Max took a deep breath. If he must declare his love for her in such a public arena, then so be it. Moving to her side, he took both her hands before she could tuck them behind her back.

  “The reason I know I love you, Hero Appleby, is because I have never loved before, and since meeting you, I’ve begun to feel. You’ve exposed something inside me, and given me hope.”

  Mrs. Bonny sighed and the little girls clapped loudly and the boys both made gagging noises.

  “And now I think it’s time for us to have our afternoon tea, children. Then we will begin decorating the tree.”

  Max gave Mrs. Bonny a grateful look as she started herding the children from the room.

  “But I want to stay and hear what Hero has to say.”

  “Emmaline, if you don’t come now, I'm setting you to scrubbing out the chamber pots this afternoon.”

  The little girl’s face looked mulish for a few seconds. Then she sighed. “All right, but I get to hang the star on the top of the tree.”

  Protests started as they left, as the arguments began over the right to place the star. Finally, the door shut behind them and Max was alone with Hero.

  “Will you marry me, Hero Appleby?”

  She snatched her hands from his and took a step backward.

  “You cannot mean this, Max. It’s unnecessary, I assure you.” Her eyes were over his right shoulder.

  He moved closer, taking her chin, turning her eyes to his.

  “Do you think a selfish and indulgent man such as I would do something he had no wish to?”

  She tried to escape him so he simply wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Max kissed her softly until he felt her respond. Only then did he stop.

  “I did not plan to love you, Hero, nor did I plan to wed a woman with as many children as you have, yet it seems I must, my sweet.”

  “Why must you?” The words were whispered.

  “Because in just a few days, you have captured my heart and soul, Hero. You are so strong and brave, and achingly beautiful how can I help but love you.”

  “Oh, Max.”

  “You have made me believe in life, Hero. Made me understand what it is to be happy for the first time in years or perhaps ever. Don’t throw me back to the darkness, love. Let me live with you in the light.”

  Max held her while she cried. “I hope these are tears of happiness?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Will you marry me, Hero?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Max kissed her until someone banged on the door.

  “There will be no peace, Max,” Hero said as he tucked her hands into his chest to hold her close. “The adjustment for you will—”

  “Be easier because I have you at my side and the love we share,” Max said softly.

  “I don't know what miracle has given me this chance at happiness, my lord, but I will grasp it with both hands and never let you go because I love you, too, so very much.”

  “It is the miracle of love, Hero, ours and the children’s.” Max kissed her once more until the hammering on the door grew too loud to ignore. He then led her from the room and into a future that was clear and bright and filled with hope.

  Epilogue

  “Charlotte, take your fingers out of Colin’s ear.”

  “But he’s in my way, Max,” the little girl said, planting a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek as he bent to glare at her, which made her giggle. Max then stood to reach for Emmaline and lift her high so she could place the star on top of the tree.

  Hero leaned on the wall below the stairs, watching Max help the children decorate the tree. They had been married for two years, and each day she loved him more. There were still times when the children outsmarted him and she had to gently remind him not to let them walk all over him, but for the most part, he was a wonderful father figure in their lives. He genuinely cared for them and they, him, and each day they all blossomed in the happy environment that was now their home.

  “Just place the bleedin’ thing, Emmaline, so we can go and eat. My stomach’s rumbling.”

  “Owen, mind your language, please,” Hero said, running a hand over the boy’s head to soften her words. He loved her touch now and that of the other children. Since Max had come to live with them, he had blossomed and was a happy boy full of mischief.

  “There, now, we can all have supper,” Max said after he had lowered the little girl gently to the ground once more.

  “If you will all follow me, we shall proceed in an orderly manner.”

  “Stow it, Freddy, we’re too hungry to be orderly!”

  Hero laughed as Freddy chased after Emmaline as they all thundered down to the kitchens to where Mrs. Bonny
would have the food ready on the table.

  “Come, Lady Caruthers, it is time to feed both you and our baby.”

  Hero went willingly into her husband’s arms, although it was not quite as easy now, her stomach seemed to get in the way.

  “I love you, Lord Caruthers.” Hero kissed him softly.

  Max looked up and saw the cat perched above them on the stairs. Nudging Hero back a step, he kissed her again thoroughly.

  “You’re standing under mistletoe, love, and I believe the tradition is a kiss must follow.”

  “So it must,” Hero replied and it was quite some time before Lord and Lady Caruthers joined their children for supper.

  Lillian Elizabeth Caruthers was born two weeks later, much to the delight of Max and the women in the household. Colin and Owen, however, were heard to mutter that the odds were firmly stacked against them and that it was Max’s job to even them up…and soon.

  THE END

  The Earl From Christmas Past

  Chapter One

  “Oh, this cannot be good.”

  Gabriel, the Earl of Lockhart, heard the muttered words as he approached Lord Haswell’s study.

  “Not good at all... in fact, terrible. If I was to compare this moment to a food, it would be jellied eel.”

  Gabriel knew who that voice belonged to. Looking in the room, however, he couldn’t see her. He stepped inside, letting the light from the wall sconce behind him cast its glow.

  “Jellied eel, and quite possibly gruel also. Why anyone would eat either willingly is beyond me.”

  He cleared his throat, and the muttering stopped. A head popped up from behind the large oak desk. It was quickly followed by a body, and he found himself facing Miss Madeline Spencer. Society darling. Cherished youngest daughter of Viscount Spencer, and one of the most annoying women Gabe knew.

  Once they’d been childhood friends; now they were mere acquaintances, and not very good ones at that.

  “Gabe.... L-Lord Lockhart?”

  Her beauty reached out and hit a man square in the face. Her hair, which was the color of burnished gold, was thick and long when released from whatever elaborate creation it was pinned into most evenings. Gabe knew this because when they were children it was often loose, the morning’s ribbons consigned to nature, and by day’s end it was usually tousled with hay, dirt, and leaves. Her mother had been forever scolding her for her hoydenish ways.

  He’d very much liked the young version of the woman who stood before him. This one, however, was silly. She giggled a great deal and appeared to have little to say that was worth listening to.

  Most evenings she wore demure gowns that were anything but demure on her body. The woman was a walking siren, and Gabe hated that he was not immune to the pull of her beauty. Hated it even more considering their history.

  Men stared at her constantly, and many had offered for her hand. This he knew as their mothers were close friends. She had accepted none of the requests thus far, and he believed this was because only a marquess or duke would do. Madeline, in his opinion, was waiting for the wealth and status that she believed she deserved.

  “What are you doing in here, Gabriel?”

  “I think the more important question is, what are you doing here, Madeline?”

  “I-I asked first.” Her voice had lost its usual melodious tone and sounded high-pitched and panicky.

  A memory of her saying just those words slipped through Gabe’s head. He dismissed it. This woman was as different as night was to day from the child he’d known.

  She’d always hated jellied eel, however.

  “I was just taking a walk. Now, tell me why you are here alone in this study, muttering about jellied eel and gruel, Madeline?”

  Now he thought about it, that was extremely odd. She was usually surrounded by her minions, who hung on her every word. Even if many had already left to spend the festive season with their families at estates across England, there must be some still in London.

  It was nauseating how infatuated both women and men were with Madeline. She’d once loathed how her elder sister behaved, the perfect society miss, and yet now she was an exact replica.

  “Ah... well, I am lost.” She said the last four words in a rush. They were a lie. Gabe knew this, as her head tilted slightly to the right. She’d always done that.

  “I find it hard to believe you would get lost in a house you have frequented before, Madeline. I think you’re lying to me.”

  It was cold in here, and he could see she was shivering. December in London could reach low temperatures, and a flimsy gown would provide little protection. White, with silver threaded through the hem and bodice, it floated around her lush curves and made her look like an angel… an extremely annoying one.

  “I came here so long ago.” She waved a hand about in a vague manner. “But enough of that. How is your dear mother? I have not seen her in weeks.”

  “So long ago?” he said, ignoring her question. “Surely you came to the performance by Lyndovsky at the beginning of the season? The violinist,” he added, in case she’d forgotten who he was.

  “Ah yes, of course. I had forgotten about that.” She giggled inanely, which made him want to gnash his teeth. Brainless twit. He’d once had great hopes for this woman. Once, he’d even wondered if she would be his wife one day.

  “What’s going on, Madeline?”

  She started, looked over his left shoulder at the door.

  “Madeline, is there a problem you wish help with?” Reluctant as he was to utter those words, he was a gentleman and his mother would likely be furious with him if he did not offer to assist her. “Have you broken a shoe ribbon or torn a hem?” His sigh was loud in the small room.

  This was her first season, and yes, he hadn’t seen her for years, as they’d drifted apart when he left for Eton, but he’d been looking forward to meeting her again when his mother told him she was in London. That had changed when she’d treated him like a stranger, then proceeded to ignore him while gushing over everyone else.

  “Madeline?” Gabe prompted when she said nothing.

  “No, I need no help, and my shoe ribbons are in excellent health, as is my hem. I have told you, I simply became disorientated.” She straightened the seams of her gloves, avoiding his eyes. “Now, excuse me, I must leave as my dance card is, of course, full.” She raised her chin and glided past him. Gabe stopped her, wrapping his fingers around her wrist.

  “What are you up to?” Something was off here; he just couldn’t quite tell what.

  She trilled out a hideous laugh. “I became disorientated, nothing more. Now I really must return. Please excuse me.”

  She jerked her arm free with surprising force and then left. The woman didn’t even walk like other people; she glided.

  Gone was the girl who had swum, jumped, and run over their estates as children. This one was perfect in every way... except one. She wasn’t real anymore.

  “No, excuse me,” Gabe muttered. He drew in a deep, steadying breath and inhaled her scent. Elusive, a soft floral musk that she no doubt paid a fortune to have created. “God save me from precious women.”

  Dismissing her and the nagging sense of disappointment in the woman she had become, Gabe moved behind the desk. Dropping to his knees, he looked underneath.

  There was something there. Reaching out, his fingers touched a piece of paper. Retrieving it, he headed back out the door to stand beside the light.

  It was an official document of some kind with Lord Haswell’s seal on the bottom—a deed of sale for a property in London. The location was in Spitalfields.

  Haswell was one of the old generation of noblemen who did not believe in being anything but a gentleman. They lived off their titles and whatever their ancestors had left them. So why did he own this property in such an area?

  Memorizing the contents, he took it back into the room and placed it in a desk drawer, then returned to the ballroom.

  What the hell would Madeline Spencer want with
such a document? Gabe was certain she’d been searching for something, and as this was where she’d been looking, it added up that this was what she’d been seeking.

  Entering the ballroom, he was immediately bombarded with noise. Music, voices, and a riot of color. With Christmas Day not far away, those who had not retired to their estates were here tonight enjoying the Haswells’ hospitality on a bitter London evening.

  Fires roared, throwing out heat, and when combined with the overperfumed guests, the scent was not always pleasant. Above hung chandeliers lit with hundreds of candles dripping wax on those dancing below.

  “But what could possibly make you frown on such a joyous evening, my dear Lord Lockhart?”

  “Good evening, Lady Glimley.” Gabe bowed before her. Married to the aging Lord Glimley, who spent more time with his friends than her, she was always on the prowl for a new bed partner. Her eyes had been focused on Gabe recently.

  “I do believe I have a dance free in the third set.” She leaned forward so he could see down her bodice.

  “I fear I must leave shortly, my lady. Perhaps next time.”

  She patted his chest in a way that suggested she was far more familiar with his body than she should be, then sailed away in a cloud of heavy scent.

  “That woman would take you in her bed any way she could get you.”

  Mr. Elliot Yates moved to Gabe’s side. They had been friends for many years, and there was no one he trusted more. Shorter, and balding, the man had married a woman because his parents had dictated he should. As luck would have it, he also loved her.

  “And yet I still resist.”

  “God’s truth, I’m unsure why. Her prowess is legendary.”

  When Gabe said nothing, Elliot, who liked to talk, moved on to his next topic of conversation.

  “That idiot Hawkins needs shooting.”

  “Why?” Gabe searched for Madeline and found her surrounded by men and women. Popularity had not been a problem for the youngest Spencer sibling since she’d entered society.

  “Other than the fact he has that thing with his fingers, he also speaks as if everyone around him is hard of hearing, and sniffs constantly.”