Have Yourself a Merry Little Scandal: a Christmas collection of Historical Romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 1)

by Anna Campbell

  His arms came around her and caught her tighter against him. Their masks crunched together, but the kiss didn’t stop. Their mouths fused, lips parting, tongues tasting. Cassie had no idea what she was doing, she simply followed his lead, tasting and retreating, teasing and surrendering.

  Knots of need tightened inside her, and she melted to him, giving him all of her, chasing every sensation she could. She wanted this kiss to never end.

  Sidney knew he should stop the kiss and make introductions. Clearly his paramour had known him, but he needed to know who this paragon of seduction was. She’d stolen his wits the moment he’d entered the room, from her deep red curls to the brazen tilt of her chin, and the blazing blue of her eyes just like—no, he couldn’t think of her. Not here, not now, not ever again. He had to let Cassie go, and this titian goddess in his arms was just the woman to do it. It was like she’d been plucked from his wild fantasies and dropped here. His consolation prize for the woman he could not have.

  His hands roamed the delicious curves of her body, firm and also full. Strong and feminine. She moved against him, speaking with her body and her own roving hands that she didn’t want the kiss to end. She wanted more.

  He wasn’t about to bed a woman he didn’t know. He pulled back, dragging his lips down her neck and tasting the heavenly silky skin of her throat. “I need to know your name before we go further.”

  She gasped. “What?”

  He smiled against her skin and gently nipped her shoulder. She was butter in his hands, lost in desire. He turned her, running his hands over her hips and down her thighs. “I love a mystery as much as the next man, but your name, sweet, give it to me, and I’ll give you something you’ll never forget.”

  She shuddered in his arms, and her head fell back to his shoulder.

  Cassie’s head spun. He…didn’t recognize her? “Sidney.”

  He ran his tongue up her neck to her ear lobe and sucked it into his mouth. Cassie’s knees buckled, but he held her.

  “Say my name again.”

  “Ss-Sidney.”

  He dragged his teeth gently over her earlobe, and her breathing hitched. His hands raked over her sides, pulling her dress up. Cool air met her calves. Her head spun from the overwhelming sensations wracking her body.

  “Softer. Whisper it.”

  She licked her lips. “Sidney. You don’t know me?”

  “I want to know you intimately. May I?”

  “Yes,” she moaned, her heart hammering, her mind whirling. My God, his hand touched her bare thigh then moved higher, parting her, and searing her with his touch as pleasure shot through her core.

  His other hand slipped inside her bodice and squeezed her nipple. She cried out, shocked by her brazen noises.

  “Sidney,” she said again, this time begging him but for what she didn’t know.

  “Yes, I hear you, love. I know what you need.”

  He caught her mouth, and she arched into the kiss, into the hand that teased her aching breast. She had to stop this, to bring sanity back to both of them, but everything in her fought it.

  Another gasp. But this one wasn’t hers.

  They both froze, and then his hand slid out from between her thighs and her skirts dropped. He hugged her, turning away from the door, shielding her as he looked back. Cassie’s eyes watered as she stared at the dancing flames.

  “This room is occupied,” his stern voice said.

  “We can see that,” a lady said.

  “What—what is going on. Trinity? I said the—” She gasped. “Lord Reardon?”

  Cassie had to look. She was masked after all. She peeked around him.

  Lady Delilah? Trinity—Mrs. Hornberry? And a smattering of other guests. Her stomach sank.

  “I said to meet me in the south parlor,” Lady Delilah cried.

  Sidney stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

  “This is the south parlor,” Trinity said.

  “No. This is the North Parlor!” Lady Delilah screeched, ripping off her mask. “And who the devil are you?” She lunged for Cassie, but Sidney blocked her.

  “The north parlor is on the other side of the house,” Trinity hissed.

  Lady Delilah now stood fuming. “Who is this trollop?”

  “You all need to leave,” Sidney said in a tone that brooked no argument.

  Trinity grabbed Lady Delilah by the shoulders and pushed her out of the room. The door closed, but they were far from alone. Sidney turned his back to the door but held a finger to his lips. Cassie nodded.

  He then went and stood before the fire. “Well, who are you?”

  Cassie swallowed, tears choking her throat. “I thought you knew.”

  His head dropped. “You sent a note to me?”

  “I did?”

  He stood, stretching tall, and then he turned. “It appears you weren’t the only one sending me notes, arranging assignations.”

  Cassie faced him. She would not cower, no matter how much it hurt. He may not have known upon entering the room, but he would know now. She reached up and untied her mask. It fell away from her face, and she felt liked she’d just undressed down to bare skin.

  His eyes blazed. The notch in his throat moved up and down as he swallowed. “Cassie.”

  Her gaze dropped to the mistletoe on the floor near his shoe. “I just wanted you to kiss me. To see me as a woman full grown. I didn’t expect it to go so far. I never intended to trick you.”

  He folded his arms.

  There was a sudden knock on the door. “Sidney, you old dog. You’ve started quite the riot of gossip.”

  Her brother. Oh, God.

  They faced each other, his expression stormy, and she must have looked as panicked as if the very devil knocked. She turned toward the windows.

  “We’re on the second floor,” he stated.

  “I—I didn’t want this to happen. Not like this.”

  “What did you want to happen?”

  “Sidney?” Tristan called from the other side of the door.

  “Clear the hall. I have a woman in here who doesn’t wish to be made a spectacle,” Sidney answered.

  “Embarrassed, is she? I would be too,” Tristan teased.

  Sidney ran a hand through his hair.

  Cassie retied her mask and wished she’d kept her domino. She shivered and hugged herself.

  “We have much to talk about, but now is not the time. You have to get out of here before you are seen.” His gaze skimmed her, and she blushed. Just moments ago, his hands had made intimate knowledge of her body. “You altered your dress?”

  “My cloak and other mask are in the ladies’ retiring room on the first floor.”

  He nodded. “We’ll take the back stairs.”

  She lifted her chin. “You needn’t accompany me.”

  “It’s not safe. You’ll be identifiable.” He removed his domino and threw it around her shoulders. “Take my mask.”

  Cassie tried to hide another shiver as they switched masks. The warmth from his cloak soothed her, and she could smell his scent on the velvet collar. Warm and familiar. A hint of smoke and brandy.

  She closed her eyes as he turned away and went to the door. She heard him open it, just a crack, and affirm with Tristan that the hall was now cleared of onlookers.

  “Come quickly,” he said.

  Her eyes snapped open, and she followed him out, keeping her face averted from her brother who stood in the hall, the lamps dimmed. They hurried toward the back stair and found noisy guests lurking, but growled threats dispersed them. Cassie kept her head averted, holding his hand as he led her down.

  The retiring room was not empty as she entered. Lady Delilah was there, weeping on Mrs. Hornberry’s shoulder.

  “That hussy ruined my plan! How was I to predict which parlor was north or south? Now everyone saw him with her and not with me!”

  Cassie hugged the wall, frozen in place as a maid offered Lady Delilah a glass of water and fanned her.

  Her heart poun
ded.

  Ruined her plan? Lady Delilah had had a plan to be caught alone with Sidney?

  Stunned, Cassie didn’t know what to make of that information. She swallowed and unpinned the black lace applique and feathers under the domino. She needed to look as little as possible like the woman from the room, though she didn’t know how much anyone had seen of her dress. The one feature she couldn’t hide was her hair. It was rather distinct in color.

  Cassie pulled the hood over her hair and removed her mask.

  She lifted her chin and sidled past the maid. “Excuse me.”

  I belong here. It’s not suspicious of me to be in here.

  Lady Delilah sniffed angrily as she passed by but said nothing, and Cassie did not meet her gaze. She went behind the screen and reached past the other side to gather her domino and mask from behind the plant. She exhaled as she left, hurrying back to her mother’s side. Most of the guests were still at supper. Cassie hung Sidney’s cloak over the chair and left his mask on the seat, not knowing where he was. She made her way to the crowded supper room, but there was no seating, so she returned to the chairs and waited. A half hour passed before her parents returned, and her father declared it time to leave. Normally, they stayed until dawn. Her mother was pink-cheeked and glassy eyed.

  “I’ll send the carriage back for the lads,” her father said. “We will be leaving.”

  Cassie nodded, his tone not one to argue with. She was ready to go. The ball had an uncomfortable tension, and every guest peered around them as if there was a thief among them. Were they looking for the mysterious lady who had been ruined this night?

  Chapter 5

  Once home, her father told her to go straight to her room in a tone far harsher than she was accustomed to. The carriage ride had been overly quiet. Her mother had stared out the window, and her father had closed his eyes, arms folded.

  Cassie gladly retreated to her room, but she couldn’t sleep. Her body teetered between hot and cold as she waited to hear the carriage come up the drive. The longer she waited, the more her parents’ behavior weighed on her.

  Did they know? Did Tristan know? She didn’t see Sidney again after entering the retiring room. Had he said something?

  Her thoughts whirled like the Dervish dancer she saw in London. Around and around without stopping, faster and faster, beyond comprehension. The only thing to snap her out of it was the arguing coming from the front drive. She couldn’t see it, her window opened to the side of the manor, but she could hear angry voices, and then the scuffle of gravel.

  Cassie threw on her robe and bolted from her room. Flying down the stairs, the front door opened as she skidded to a halt on the landing. Tristan and Sidney entered, both dirty, and Sidney sported a bloody lip.

  “What the devil is the matter with both of you?” her father asked from a railing above her. Cassie slunk back to the shadows.

  “My study. Now,” Lord Summers ordered.

  Cassie crept back up the stairs, but not before her father saw her.

  “To bed with you. I’ll speak to you in the morning.”

  After that ominous declaration, there was no way she would be able to sleep. She looked back to Sidney and her brother, and her brother climbed the stairs toward her with a scowl.

  “Off to bed.”

  Over his shoulder, she saw Sidney waiting in the foyer as if he dared not enter the same space as her.

  Her heart hammered so fiercely she thought they all might be able to hear it. But she was not going to bend to their scornful tones. She’d done what she’d done, and somehow, they knew. So be it.

  “Goodnight.” She turned away and strode back to her room. Once there, she sat on the edge of her bed and contemplated everything that had happened.

  She could not regret it. Not a single moment. But Sidney, her family, they were furious. And what of the rest of the guests. Was she ruined? Did the entire town of Bridgeport know?

  Why were they convening in the study, but her presence was not required? This involved her, didn’t it? And what did her mother think?

  She couldn’t just sit here and be discussed. She went to her mother. Perhaps she might have some insight that didn’t involve scowling and dismissing her presence. But upon her arrival, she came across her mother’s maid leaving her room.

  “Mrs. Daisy, is she awake?”

  “No, ma’am. She sleeps soundly. She told me she had five glasses of champagne. She’ll need headache powder tomorrow.”

  “I’m glad she enjoyed the ball,” Cassie murmured.

  “Didn’t you?”

  “It was…eventful.”

  Mrs. Daisy, an older woman who had been in service to the family since Cassie was born, halted and frowned.

  “I hope nothing unfortunate happened.”

  “I don’t think so, but…the morning might prove otherwise. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, ma’am.”

  Cassie went to her father’s study, but she dared not enter. The hall was dark except for the light that shone under the door. Cassie could hear the aggravated rumble of her father’s voice, but the words weren’t clear. At least he wasn’t yelling loud enough to wake the house and inform them that she was a doxy who seduced the pristine and oh-so-controlled Lord Reardon.

  That’s how it felt. Like she’d done something wrong. She’d tarnished him, she—the impulsive and willful daughter—slandered the reputation of one of England’s most favored bachelors.

  That was probably what Tristan thought.

  Was she to blame? All she’d wanted was a kiss. She got far more than that, but this was not the outcome she had anticipated. So, what had she expected? Sidney to fall at her feet? A proposal? A stern lecture? Or stone-cold silence?

  Anything was better than this. She never imagined their mistletoe encounter not to stay between them. Now everyone knew. At least, everyone who mattered to her. But what was Sidney thinking? Did he hate her? Did he feel anything for her?

  She sat on the back stair, the study door visible, and folded her arms on her knees and rested her forehead there. Surprisingly, she grew sleepy, but she remained at her vigil until the door opened and Tristan stomped away, not seeing her. Sidney came next, slower, his steps measured, and he paused in the hall. Sensing her.

  “You aren’t asleep?”

  “Please tell me what’s happening.”

  He closed the study door and came to stand beside her at the foot of the stairs. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  “My roo—”

  “Not your room.”

  Cassie sighed wearily. “I dare say the family parlor.”

  His lips twitched. “Lead the way.”

  In the parlor, Cassie lit a lamp, and the room filled with a soft glow. Shadows filled the corners, and the floral print on the yellow-papered walls took on a strange appearance. The normal bright flowers looked dead. Cassie couldn’t recall if she’d ever been in this room this late. She took a seat on the familiar sofa, its creamy colored velvet comfortably worn and the pillows plump for hugging.

  Sidney stood by the empty hearth, his gaze distant, his bottom lip growing fat.

  “Why did Tristan hit you?” Cassie asked.

  “He recognized you.”

  She figured, but her stomach sunk with the knowledge. “How do my parents know?”

  “He told them. We stayed to…mitigate talk, but it spread like wildfire. The girl with red hair. Tall. Green gown. It was enough to identify you.”

  Cassie closed her eyes and hugged the pillow tighter. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?”

  She opened her eyes, and he was rubbing his chin.

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.”

  “What exactly did you intend to happen?”

  “A kiss. I wanted you to kiss me and see me as a woman.”

  “How could you think I don’t see you as a woman? You’re nineteen.”

  “Not just as a woman, a woman you would…be romantic with.” The
words sounded so stupid now.

  “You wanted me to kiss you…romantically?”

  “Yes.” Her cheeks burned with humiliation. “But I did not want anyone to know about it, about you and me, in case…”

  “In case what?”

  “In case you didn’t return my feelings. Then still…only you and I would know, and you’d leave.”

  “We’re far from that simple outcome now.”

  “I can tell. So, what happens now?”

  “I’m leaving first thing in the morning.”

  Cassie nodded, though she wanted to crumble into a pitiful pile of rejected womanhood. Her plan didn’t work. He wasn’t supposed to leave for another two weeks. She succeeded in driving him away faster.

  “You father is quite inebriated now. I suspect they will inform you of everything else tomorrow.”

  “Does Tristan hate us both now?”

  “Your brother doesn’t hate you.”

  “Do you hate me?”

  He sat down on the sofa beside her. “I…hate myself more than anyone right now. I should have recognized you sooner. I should have known—I don’t know. I was incredibly callous with you.”

  “You weren’t. I liked it.”

  He stiffened. “Don’t say that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It—I—just…wait until tomorrow, and things will be clearer. There is a solution to this problem.”

  “You’re leaving. Is that the solution?”

  “Yes, in part. I’ll be returning. With a special license.”

  Cassie couldn’t breathe. “A…a what?”

  “A special license it’s a—”

  “I know what it is!” She covered her mouth, and they both waited in silence, but no one came to investigate her sudden outburst.

  “We have to marry. It’s the only recourse. I ruined you.”

  “Hardly,” Cassie muttered. “They can’t make you do this.”

  “They aren’t. I insisted. I gave my word as a gentleman. Your family has come to mean so much to me. It is the least I can do to salvage this.”