by Anna Bradley
“That’s too bad, because he is,” Cornell snapped in return. “He’s only fifteen, and he just lost his mother. He’s not thinking clearly.”
The second man stood, even larger than the first. He cracked his knuckles. “’E hasn’t paid ’is tab yet.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Cornell said curtly, reaching the end of his patience.
The first man narrowed his eyes on Cornell. “’Ey, I know ’im.” He thumbed his finger at him while he spoke to his companion. “’E’s th’ cordwainer wot thinks ’e’s too good t’ stand wit’ ’is peers.”
The bigger man sized up Cornell with narrowed eyes. “Is tha’ so?”
Cornell realized that Mr. Ottfield had been right. Trouble had found him. He would have just preferred that it wasn’t while he was keeping Niall upright with one hand. The boy was quite literally on the verge of passing out from the drink.
“Gentlemen,” Cornell attempted to placate them. “Can’t we discuss this after I see the boy back to his lodgings?”
The first man shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s no’ possible, guvn’r.”
“Very well.” Cornell released Niall, letting him slide to the booth in a heap, while he turned his attention to his adversaries. After all, it wasn’t as if it was the first time he’d ever been in a brawl.
The click of a pistol broke the silence, and a man strode forward. Although garbed in common clothes, when his commanding voice rang out, it was anything but simple. “I’m afraid I can’t let you harm this man.”
Several other men surrounded Lord Haverton as his gaze remained fixed on the two men before him. “And neither can I allow you to continue your quest to tear this city apart.” He gestured to one of the men at his side. “Lieutenant, add these miscreants to the rest of the men we took into custody this evening.”
As the agitators were led away, Lord Haverton lingered to speak with Cornell. “It turns out that your concern over Miss Hill and her family was the break we needed to find out who was responsible for trying to spark a rebellion within the guilds. Those two men were the last of a handful of others, including your Mr. Ottfield.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Cornell said. “But I can’t guarantee that you’ve seen the end of it.”
“I have no doubt of it,” the earl countered. “But maybe by then someone else will be tasked with cleaning up London. To be honest, I prefer a more peaceful route.”
“As do I,” Cornell returned, as he reached down and tossed Niall over his shoulder. He looked at the man who was becoming much more than just a half-brother, but rather, family. “I don’t suppose I could prevail upon your goodwill again?”
Lord Haverton shook his head. “I really should just give you my carriage as you seem to have more need of it than I do.”
“I’m not sure I could drive it across the channel to Ireland.”
The earl’s brows rose. “Thinking of relocating?”
Cornell shrugged. “All the fine shoemakers don’t have to be in Paris or London. I think it’s time Ireland had a master cordwainer.”
“You know,” the earl murmured. “I happen to have an estate near Galway, non-entailed, of course, that has been sadly neglected.” He glanced at Cornell. “Interested?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Sounds perfect.”
CHAPTER NINE
Several hours passed while Pleasant paced the floor and kept checking the window for any sign of Niall or Cornell. Connor and Fiona had fallen asleep hours ago, tucked into their beds upstairs, although the frowns they wore during their slumber proved their unrest at their brother’s absence.
When she heard the door suddenly open on a gust of brisk, night air, Pleasant flew down the stairs and nearly fell to her knees in relief upon seeing Cornell, but when she spied Niall’s unconscious form, she gasped.
“He’s fine,” Cornell assured her, but then he added, “Although he may not be so in the morning.”
This time Pleasant gasped for an entirely different reason. “You mean he’s…drunk?”
“As a lord,” Cornell muttered dryly.
Pleasant shook her head but led Cornell up the stairs where they laid her brother down on his cot, and after removing his boots and jacket, left him in his clothes. He didn’t even stir as a soft snore came from his parted lips.
They went back downstairs, and Pleasant stood in the middle of the floor, a hand on her forehead. “I can’t believe he did this.”
“Don’t be too hard on him,” Cornell said gently. “He’ll suffer enough when he awakens. Something tells me it will be awhile before he imbibes ale again.”
Without warning, Pleasant’s face crumpled and she sank down in Aine’s chair by the fireplace. “I’ve failed them,” she whispered. “Mama hasn’t even been in the ground for one day and already, Niall is out of control.”
Cornell crouched down beside her and forced her to look at him. “People handle their grief in different ways, even children. And Niall is in a difficult place as it is. He’s struggling between remaining a boy and becoming a man.”
She knew she was being selfish, but she couldn’t help the words that fell from her lips. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”
He reached out and slowly began to remove the pins holding up her hair, until it finally fell down her back in a shimmering, copper wave. “But, my love, you seem to forget that you’re not alone.”
Before she could ask him exactly what that meant, he brought her mouth to his. After that, she didn’t want to talk anymore. She just wanted the pain to go away, to pretend once again that she was someone else, someone worthy of being…desirable.
Tomorrow she would consider the consequences.
Tonight she just wanted to feel.
As the kiss grew deeper, Pleasant tumbled onto Cornell’s lap. She straddled him as he sat on the floor and pushed his jacket off of his broad shoulders. He was still fully dressed from the service, but it didn’t take her long to divest him of his waistcoat, cravat and shirt. After he was naked from the waist up, she ran her hands over his biceps, the firelight playing over his muscular arms, his skin still bronzed from his days on board a ship. Even the light patch of dark hair across his chest was permanently lightened from the sun.
She trailed her fingertips over his firm abdomen, but when they would have gone farther, past the waistband of his trousers, he stopped her with a hand on her wrist.
“This doesn’t seem quite fair, my lady,” he purred. “I have yet to touch you.”
For reply, Pleasant reached around and began to unfasten her gown. Growing up without a ladies’ maid to attend her, it had been necessary to don clothes that were easy to put on. And take off.
She stood and allowed the dress to fall to the floor in a puddle of fabric at her feet. She watched as Cornell’s nostrils flared when his gaze settled on the silk stockings. She had worn her plain undergarments that day, but added the stockings as a last minute comfort. A part of her couldn’t seem to let go of the little luxuries to be had in life.
However, now she was glad she’d kept them on, for Cornell lifted his hand and slowly trailed it up her leg, taking the hem of her chemise with him, stopping only when the top of the stocking ended at her thigh. His eyes darkened to the color of a deep forest when he touched her bare skin. “Beautiful,” he whispered.
And then he dared to place his mouth on the apex between her legs.
Her gasp of surprise quickly turned into a moan, as all of her senses were suddenly concentrated on that single area, and the wicked things he was doing to her. She threw her head back in abandon and clutched his head with her hands.
Then, as if she was plunged into a warm abyss, her body trembled, and pleasure unlike anything she’d ever felt before washed over her.
She was still glowing inwardly, floating from the heavens on a cloud of ecstasy when Cornell pulled her back down to him. He positioned her so that she straddled him once again, a leg on either side of his torso. She didn’t know when he’d
unbuttoned his trousers, but she felt the hardness of his manhood as it nudged her opening.
“You’re glorious,” he murmured, and then he thrust upward.
Pleasant bit her lip as a brief burning pain replaced the enjoyment she’d felt moments ago, but when Cornell drew her forward and kissed her, the unpleasantness started to recede. When he pulled down a section of her undergarments and bent down to draw her nipple into his mouth she forgot the discomfort completely.
Once he grasped her hips and began to move at a steady, even pace, that same intensity began to build again.
“Cornell…” she gasped, knowing she was close to the edge of oblivion.
He gently bit the curve where her neck met her left shoulder and murmured, “Let go, my love.”
And she did.
***
If there had ever been any doubt in his mind that Pleasant was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, after tonight, he had never been more certain of anything else. But honestly, he’d known all along she was the one.
Just as Xavier claimed he had known the moment he’d set eyes on Althea, the same had been true for Cornell. He’d just been too stubborn at the time to see it.
Either way, he’d never imagined that a simple sign advertising for an apprentice would have led to this. From the moment Pleasant entered his shop, she’d changed his entire mindset. If it hadn’t been for her gentle nudging, he might have never attempted to have a relationship with Xavier, or to get to know his brother’s wonderful family.
Holding Pleasant in his arms, he wanted nothing more than to confess his heart, but when it came to a proposal, she deserved a romantic gesture, not an abrupt confession when they were half-dressed.
She looked absolutely breathtaking, her face flushed with her long red hair falling down her back. For so long he’d imagined just this moment, and he couldn’t wait until the day he could finally call her his wife. He gently kissed her lips and lifted her so that she was sitting beside him.
He stood and fastened his trousers, and then grabbed his shirt and drew it over his head. While he was donning the rest of his clothes, Pleasant said, “You’re not staying?”
He paused and bent down to her level, where she was still sitting on the floor. He touched a finger to her full lips. “Sunday is Christmas Eve. I still have a few orders to fulfill before then. If I stay, I fear you’d be too much of a distraction.”
That earned him a small smile. “I suppose you’re right. I have the rest of the dress orders to complete.” But then she sighed. “I have no idea what might happen to us after the holidays.”
He kissed her forehead and stood. “Don’t you know that sometimes…Christmas miracles can occur?”
“In my experience,” she returned sadly. “Those only exist in fairy tales or novels.”
He lifted a brow as he shrugged on his greatcoat. “Then perhaps it’s time you start believing in them.”
With one last wink, he left.
***
For the next two days, Pleasant sewed until her fingers ached, but at least all of the orders that her mother had commissioned for Madame Caron were finished. She might not be as talented a seamstress as Aine had been, but as she held up an elegant, red satin gown, she was proud of her handiwork. Surely the modiste could find no fault in them.
Honestly, she was surprised she could concentrate on anything, for her mind kept drifting to Cornell and the blissful night they had shared together. She would find that her needle would be in the middle of making a stitch, while her focus was staring off at some point in space. It was almost strange to think of “Mr. Reed” as her lover, the transition from her employer to something much more taking her quite unaware. She still wasn’t sure how to process it all. It was almost as if she’d dreamt that night, if it hadn’t been for the slight soreness between her legs the next morning.
But then, Niall had suffered far worse the following day, unable to even keep water down. Pleasant had sat beside him and comforted him through the worst, until he had finally turned to her with a miserable expression. “I’m sorry, Pea.”
Since then, his attitude had become much more contrite, and he’d finally gone back to sweeping chimneys with Connor.
Without anyone to watch Fiona, Pleasant took her to the dressmaker’s shop. As they walked inside, Madame Caron offered them both a sincere smile. “I was terribly sorry to hear of your mother’s passing.”
“Thank you,” Pleasant returned as she handed over the gowns. “I finished the dresses. I hope these are acceptable.”
The Madame held up the four gowns with a critical eye, inspecting each one carefully. Finally, she nodded. “Very good work, Miss Hill.” She reached into her reticule and handed Pleasant a few coins. “This was the price Mrs. Hill and I had agreed upon.”
Pleasant glanced at the handful of coins, and then shoved them into her pocket. She knew it would last only a short time before they were in dire straits once more. And now, without the income of the apprenticeship, and having dismissed all of her laundry clients, she wasn’t certain how she might make ends meet. Swallowing her pride, she asked, “Do you have any more work that I could do?”
Madame’s mouth turned down at the corners. “I’m afraid after the holidays, the demand for dresses is rather slim. Of course, once the Season begins, the shop will be flooded with new orders. I’m sure I could use your help then.”
Pleasant’s spirits sank. The London Season wouldn’t begin until the spring, several months away. She couldn’t wait that long to try to find some steady income.
She murmured her thanks and took Fiona’s hand, turning to go, but then Madame brightened and said, “If you see Mr. Reed, let him know that his order will be complete this evening.”
Pleasant glanced back with a frown. “I’m afraid that I had to quit my position at the shop.”
The lady waved a hand, suddenly distressed. “Oh, of course! Then don’t concern yourself. I shall send a messenger over shortly.”
Pleasant’s mind was whirling as she exited the shop. What could Cornell be ordering from the modiste? She instantly had an image of another woman on his arm; perhaps even one of Madame LeFleur’s girls, but then dismissed it just as quickly.
Cornell cared for her, didn’t he? She surely hadn’t imagined it when he’d called her “my love” and caressed her so tenderly?
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk while pedestrians jostled her and grumbled as they passed. It was almost like the day she had seen the sign in the cordwainer’s window and thought it was the answer to her prayers. Now, she couldn’t help but wonder if she hadn’t just made a terrible error in judgment.
Cornell might be illegitimate, but he was still the son of an earl. The same, blue blood that ran through Lord Haverton’s veins was in his. He might not be able to marry a viscount’s sister someday, but surely he could court someone who was more worthy than a cobbler’s daughter, a woman who had already given him her virtue with no thought to the future.
She inhaled sharply as she pressed a hand to her stomach. What if she was already carrying his child?
There was a gentle tug on her hand. “Pea? Are you sick?”
Pleasant glanced down at her little sister’s concerned face and summoned a smile. “Let’s make a stop at the butcher’s before we go home, shall we?”
Fiona’s eyes instantly widened. “I thought Mama always said meat was too expensive?”
Pleasant lifted her chin. “Well, I promised you that we would have a Christmas to remember, and I intend to keep my word.”
The price might be too high to pay, but even if she had to cover the cost by selling her body at Madame LeFleur’s establishment, she intended to honor that vow she’d made.
Her siblings deserved that much from her.
***
Pleasant inhaled the scents of cinnamon, apple cider, and baked ham as she laid the main course on the table for supper that Christmas Eve. For the first time in years, their modest lodging
s smelled festive and the eager faces of her siblings made it all worthwhile.
She’d even dressed for the occasion like a true hostess, donning her green, satin dress and her fine underclothes. For this one, brief moment in time, they would enjoy a holiday without the burden of toil, and the worry about what lay around the corner.
That afternoon, after they’d left the butcher’s shop, Pleasant had purchased more greenery to drape about the fireplace. Although she couldn’t fit a Yule log in the small grate, she’d added more coal, and there was a larger fire burning than usual. She had even managed to fashion an actual kissing bough with the sprig of mistletoe, which had been above the front door, along with some of the leftover evergreen, a few apples, and several candles in the middle, which were lit. The ball hung from a string over the mantel where three, brown paper-wrapped packages sat on the floor, waiting to be opened the next morning.
And although Cornell had promised to come by that day, he still hadn’t made an appearance. While his absence broke her heart, Pleasant did her best to hide her true feelings from her siblings. She would not take that joy away from them when that was all that mattered to her.
Just as they were about to sit down for dinner, there was a knock at the door. Pleasant’s heart instantly leapt, expecting to see Cornell, but when she opened the door, she was surprised to see Lord Haverton and his family on the other side. “Miss Hill,” he bowed in his true, lordly fashion. “May we come in?”
“Of course, my lord.” She moved aside so that they could enter. Louisa and Frederick instantly went to join her siblings. “We were just getting ready to eat. Won’t you join us?”
“Only if we might contribute,” Lady Haverton commented as she gestured to the coachman, who stepped down and brought in several packages. The last of which was something that smelled entirely delightful. “Yorkshire pudding,” she announced with a conspiratorial smile.
As they were removing their outerwear, the earl glanced around. “Has my brother not yet arrived?”
