Winter Wishes: A Regency Christmas Anthology

by Cheryl Bolen

  Grace gasped, but quickly covered her mouth with both hands. He saw her eyes fill with tears, and his heart ached that he was the cause of her distress.

  "I apologize, Grace. I did not mean anything untoward." He hastily began rewrapping the carving, but her hand shot out, halting him.

  "It is delightful. As are you for thinking of my son's happiness."

  I am also thinking of yours, he managed to leave unsaid.

  She dashed a hand over her eyes, and blinked away the remnants of tears. Her sunny smile returned. "Let me fetch Oliver. He will be overjoyed when he sees this."

  She got up on her tiptoes and placed a brief kiss to his cheek. The warmth of her face against his, her tantalizing body so close to his own, made his heart thunder with emotion. He wanted to turn slightly, to have her lips brush against his, but it was madness to even consider it. She knew it, too, since she stepped back, her cheeks blushing, and then she dashed towards the door, calling for Oliver.

  Rhys quickly re-wrapped the gift, pondering the one Grace had just given him. Unfortunately it made him yearn for more from her, and he had no reason to believe it would ever be possible.

  Grace chided herself for her impulsive action. She had not even realized she was going to kiss Rhys until she had done it. Fortunately, she had only kissed his cheek. Unfortunately, it had set off a longing for more kisses, and her imagination was able to create a dazzling set of kisses she could enjoy with Rhys.

  She thrust those impractical thoughts aside, striding through the kitchens until she found her son sitting in a chair, watching as Susanna removed a large pan from the oven.

  "Oliver, love, I have a surprise for you. Actually, Mr. Wilton does—"

  "Did he bring Bodhi?" He slid down from his chair in record time. "I hope he brought Bodhi."

  She held out her hand. "Let us see what he brought."

  Her heart raced as they returned to Rhys. His expression seemed slightly worried, until he saw them exiting the kitchen door, and then it was as if he were watching his prayers being answered. There were so many reasons why they could not indulge whatever these emotions were, and just as many reasons why she wanted to eradicate the obstacles between them.

  Oliver ran the last few steps to reach Rhys. "Where's Bodhi? My mama said you had a surprise."

  Rhys knelt again, so he was the same height as Oliver. "Bodhi had to stay home today. He got himself in a bit of trouble, I'm afraid."

  "What did he do?"

  "He is a bit too exuberant at times, when he thinks someone might be hiding a treat that he considers his. My brother was not at all pleased when Bodhi tore off not one, but both of his pockets. From his favorite hunting jacket, no less."

  That set Oliver off into peals of laughter. "I like Bodhi."

  Rhys leaned in to whisper, "I do, too. Charles can be a bit stuffy, and I was glad to see Bodhi give him his comeuppance."

  Grace ahemed, but she had to fight to keep from laughing. Especially when Rhys looked up and gave her a conspiratorial wink.

  "I brought you something," Rhys said to Oliver. He handed the wrapped gift to her son. "Something I made for you."

  Oliver's eyes lit up with obvious excitement. He glanced at Grace, asking for permission, and when she nodded, he began to unwrap the gift.

  "It's a dog! My very own dog!" He clasped it close to him, and then threw himself at Rhys for an unexpected embrace. "Thank you, Mr. Wilton."

  Rhys did not even falter. He returned the hug, adding several pats to Oliver's back. There was no mistaking the happiness in Rhys' face at the unexpected affection bestowed on him.

  Oliver extracted himself so he could race to his mother and show her his dog. "It's beautiful," she said. And it was a stunning piece of work. She had forgotten Rhys' talent, one he had discovered in childhood, and clearly improved upon through the years.

  "I have to call him Bodhi," Oliver announced, returning to Rhys' side.

  "Of course," Rhys said. "Though I suspect this one will be much better behaved than its namesake."

  Grace chuckled as the two of them discussed the particulars of the carved dog, and how much it resembled the original Bodhi. She could feel her heart swelling with emotion. She should have realized how perfect Rhys would be with Oliver.

  "Mama, Mr. Wilton says we can go for a sleigh ride the next time it snows. I want to do that. When will it snow again?"

  Grace pretended to groan. "He shall be as relentless as Bodhi is about treats."

  Rhys tossed her another one of his devilish grins. "Sometimes relentlessness is an admirable trait to possess."

  "Is it one you possess?" she teased.

  "At times, yes. When it is something I want dearly."

  She was not sure how to respond. Fortunately Oliver changed the conversation, in his reliably persistent fashion.

  "When will you bring Bodhi, Mr. Wilton? I want him to see this Bodhi." He held up the wooden dog. "But I will make sure he does not try to eat it."

  "That is an excellent plan." Rhys glanced at Grace. "I know your duties keep you quite busy, but if you have a spare hour soon—"

  "We would love for you to bring Bodhi for a visit. In fact, we will gather some treats to distract him from the wonderful gift you brought today."

  Oliver scampered off to the kitchens. Grace smiled as she watched him. "He will be showing the new Bodhi to everyone he comes into contact with. I suspect he will insist on sleeping with it as well."

  "I am truly glad he enjoys it. I was not sure how it might be received."

  It was the perfect opening, a chance to explain to Rhys why she could not welcome his attentions, much as she relished them. Their difference in station had not changed. She was the cook at Hartstone Hall, while he was a nobleman from the neighboring estate, a friend of her employer. Time had not obliterated that particular obstacle. It had actually intensified it.

  But a spark of hopeful defiance pushed those thoughts aside. It was pure folly to expect more, yet that yearning would not go away. It was as insistent as anything else they'd discussed that day.

  She glanced quickly from side to side, and seeing they were still alone, she brushed her lips quickly against his.

  "You need never fear how you will be received, Rhys."

  Before she could confess anything more, she turned and hurried back to the kitchens.

  Rhys stood rooted to the spot. He watched Grace until he could no longer see her, yet still he waited, perhaps hoping she would return and grant him even more of her delicious kisses. Or maybe he wanted to ensure he was not in the midst of some dream, before waking to the terrible reality that he had merely imagined Grace's lips on his.

  He slowly made his way out of the kitchen garden. He was still a bit dazed, not just from the kisses, but at seeing the Grace he feared had been lost to him forever. He understood she had had to set aside the bold nature of her youth. She was a parent now, and the sole person responsible for her delightful son, Oliver. It was no wonder she had to suppress the impulsive nature that had been her driving force when she was younger.

  How could he persuade her that he wanted to not only encourage the return of her boldness, but to be a part of her future? He was already growing fond of Oliver. If he let his thoughts go wild, it was easy to imagine raising him as his own son, with Grace traipsing along with them through the marshes while chasing frogs.

  But not spiders. He grinned. She would never abide those.

  "There is the face of a happy man."

  Rhys glanced up, so lost in his mental meanderings, he had not realized Martin had joined him. They continued walking together.

  "I have just come from seeing Grace, and Oliver."

  "No wonder you are so overjoyed."

  "Yes, though it is not easy to escape the difficulties of the situation. Not that there is a situation. Nothing that Grace has explicitly offered."

  Martin's grin was infectious. "I understand your need for caution. But perhaps it is not called for in this instance. I am not
certain it was called for previously with Grace."

  His words stunned Rhys. "There may be no other choice. We are of different stations, and it is difficult to overcome that particular obstacle."

  Martin continued his climb of the hill leading away from his house. "Difficult, yes. Impossible? I cannot see why."

  Rhys pondered his friend's words as they silently trod together. Finally, he ventured, "I chose caution previously with Grace because—well, because she seemed so happy with the choice she had made. I did not wish to wreak havoc with her plans by revealing my feelings for her. Especially if they were not reciprocated."

  "Understandable, and probably quite noble." His tone suggested he did not consider it at all noble. Before Rhys could protest, Martin added, "Yet if you never divulged the depth of your feelings, how could she have chosen differently?"

  Rhys wanted to grumble, but Martin's words made sense. Rhys did not wish to squander this new opportunity he had been given. He needed to know if a life together was something Grace truly desired, or if it was a dream cherished by him alone.

  "It is possible she will not wish to change her current situation."

  "There is that possibility." Martin's eyes twinkled. "But you have the next weeks to woo this woman you adore. If you are talented, and if the Fates decide to smile upon your efforts, Grace will realize you are the future she has always wanted."

  "I am both heartened and disheartened by your little speech. It sounds as though it depends most heavily on the Fates being charitable."

  "From what I have seen of your wooing abilities," Martin chuckled, "we can only hope the Fates are eager to help things along."

  Rhys gasped, and then grabbed a handful of snow. Martin's eyes widened and he began to run, but his laughter kept him from getting too far ahead. Rhys caught up and did his best to dump the snow down Martin's neck, although without success. His valet had tied his cravat expertly and the form-fitting coat left no room for an unwanted handful of snow.

  "So much for my attempts at revenge."

  They both laughed again and continued their walk. "Let us spend the time working on your wooing skills," Martin said. "After all, I am called the matchmaking earl. Surely I can assist in your romantic endeavors."

  "I had forgotten about that. Here I am with an expert as a friend, and I have not seen fit to utilize your skills. The Fates are indeed smiling on me."

  "It would seem they are."

  Chapter 5

  The Fates were laughing at him.

  Rhys grimaced as he looked outside. The sky was darkening, a sure sign it was likely to snow, yet it held off, thwarting his plans for a sleigh ride with Oliver and Grace.

  It had been an eternity since his last visit with her, though his calendar marked it as a mere two days. While he was anxious to see Grace again, he was loath to appear overeager by visiting too soon, or too often. Nor could he simply loiter by the kitchen door, waiting for her to appear when she had a respite from her duties.

  The sleigh ride had seemed the perfect solution—until the snow had chosen not to cooperate.

  Rhys glanced through the window once more. He did not want Oliver to be disappointed that the promised sleigh ride had not yet happened. Rhys remembered being an eager young child and how excruciating it could be to wait for something he wanted so badly.

  He laughed. He felt that way now.

  Rhys dashed out of the study and headed for the stables. On the way he whistled for Bodhi. Surely there was no harm in a quick visit to Hartstone Hall with Oliver's favorite dog. He had promised Oliver he would bring Bodhi, so why not now, when the weather was proving obstinate and hindering his original plan?

  Of course, it would also provide an opportunity to see Grace, a pleasure he did not wish to deny himself any longer.

  Perhaps the Fates would smile upon his efforts to woo this woman who held his heart. If not, he would at least do his best to keep them amused.

  Rhys tied up his horse outside the wall of the kitchen garden. Bodhi snuffled in the surrounding grass, his tail wagging cheerfully, clearly not winded by the trek from their home.

  "You are a boundless source of energy," he marveled. Bodhi looked up and his expression was joyous. It was hard not to think the pup was smiling. It made Rhys' happiness soar just to look at him.

  He had fashioned a leash to rein in Bodhi's more exuberant impulses, not wanting him to bowl over Oliver. He slipped it over Bodhi's head, expecting resistance, but got none.

  They walked through the frosted-over garden. Or at least Rhys attempted it, except Bodhi was intrigued by every single tuft of greenery, digging his nose into several places that must have been fragrant to the dog.

  After what seemed like an hour of the dog's explorations, they made it to the kitchen door. Rhys felt his heart racing as he rapped the door several times.

  Susanna peeked through the window before opening the door, a brilliant smile on her face. "Good afternoon, Mr. Wilton. Would you care to come in?"

  "Actually, no." He nodded towards Bodhi. "I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue if he were to get inside. I was hoping Grace, er, Mrs. Nettleton and Oliver might have a spare moment."

  "I'll just fetch them both." She gave Bodhi's head a quick rub. "Such a sweet animal."

  Bodhi licked her hand, as if wanting to show his gratitude at her generous characterization. Susanna giggled and then headed back into the house.

  Rhys knelt and gave Bodhi a short lecture on proper behavior. "Remember, he's just a young lad, quite like yourself. But you have a lot more strength and can easily overpower Oliver. So you need to try to curb your boisterous impulses. Do you think you can manage that? I would very much appreciate it if you could."

  Bodhi tilted his head as if considering the request. Then he shook his head vigorously, finishing with an elaborate yawn. Clearly he believed Rhys' admonishments were unnecessary.

  "Bodhi!"

  Rhys stood as soon as he heard Oliver's excited voice. It was a good thing he did, for he would have been flattened by the young boy racing to get to the dog. Oliver threw his arms around Bodhi, who surprisingly stayed put instead of greeting the young boy in an equally exuberant fashion. Bodhi looked just as happy, however, as if he had found his soul mate.

  Grace raced out the door, clearly concerned about Oliver. "Rhys, I apologize. I had just finished counseling him about not frightening Bodhi with his exuberance."

  Rhys laughed. "I had just done the same with Bodhi. For once, the contrary animal heeded my advice."

  "I wish my son had the same ability. Some days I wonder if I am having any effect at all on his behavior."

  "Grace, you have nothing to fret about. He is happy and joyous and filled with wonder. I cannot imagine there could be a better child in this world."

  Grace's expression softened, but before she could respond, Oliver asked, "Can I walk with Bodhi?"

  The boy held the leash in one hand and Bodhi stood, not impatiently as usual, but content to follow Oliver's commands.

  "I can hardly believe it," Rhys said, "but it seems Oliver has tamed Bodhi's wildest impulses. I am confident it is safe to allow them to walk about together here."

  Grace nodded. "We have a brief spell before it will be time to prepare for the next meal. Would you care to take a walk a little further afield?"

  Rhys did not even try to disguise his happiness. "I would be delighted."

  Grace told Oliver to wait where he was so she could grab a hat and gloves for him, as well as her cloak. In minutes she had returned wearing her red wool cloak, the color highlighting her blonde curls. She quickly overruled her son's objections to having his head covered, though she did it in a playful manner that kept Oliver's protests to a minimum.

  "We shall have to return in thirty minutes," Grace said. "I am lucky to have even that amount of time."

  "We will make the most of what we have."

  They set out, with Oliver and Bodhi in the lead. Rhys had wanted to offer his arm to Grace, but ha
d decided against it. To his surprise, and utter delight, she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow.

  "I hope you do not mind," she said, smiling up at him.

  "It is my pleasure." He hesitated, before adding, "I must confess I am never quite sure what to do when I am with you, Grace. I fear I am constantly making the wrong choice because of my fear of making the wrong choice."

  She chuckled. "I understand completely. I find myself dithering, trying to decide if I am flying headlong into a disastrous mistake, or if I am setting myself up for disappointment by my failure to act."

  "What are we to do then? I am not keen on letting fear be my guide."

  "Nor am I." She glanced ahead at Oliver, happily traipsing through the frosted grass. "Nor do I wish Oliver to lose his sense of wonder because he fears the consequences of every action."

  He could see from her expression she knew she had succumbed to such a fate, and was regretful of it. He gave her hand a quick squeeze to reassure her.

  "Know that you have nothing to fear when you are with me. Tell me what you are thinking, what you are wishing for, anything that causes you doubt. Remember how we were when we were younger, when I relied on you, and you did the same with me."

  "Can it be like that now? When so much has changed?" She nibbled at her lip. "When it also seems as though nothing has changed."

  Rhys did not have a chance to respond. Bodhi chose that moment to give chase to something, possibly a rabbit, or more likely a scent or sound only he could sense. Oliver tried to keep up but was forced to drop the leash. Unfortunately it was after he had tumbled to the ground.

  Grace rushed to her son, with Rhys on her heels. "Oliver! Are you hurt?" She gathered him into her arms, frantically checking to see if he had come to harm anywhere. His bottom lip quivered, and Rhys felt his heart begin to ache when the boy's eyes filled with tears. He better understood Grace's constant concern for the young boy since he was now experiencing it himself firsthand.