The wind felt wonderful on her face and she remembered the rush of joy that came from skating, or perhaps it was being held in the circle of his arms. His footing was sure and although he was skating faster than she had previously attempted, while the duke held her, Emily had no fear that she might fall.
She hoped he didn’t think she was exaggerating her clumsiness to convince him to hold her closer. She would not. On the other hand, it was quite exhilarating to be held so. Perhaps she should have done. The thought brought a smile to her lips.
The duke spoke, his voice a soft rumble in her ear, stirring her hair.
“It was you who skated past without even a hello,” the duke said, his voice softly teasing.
“I did no such thing.” Emily protested breathily. She would have said she had not seen him, but she knew that was not true. She was intensely aware of him. She noticed him almost instantly across the ice, watching him even as she buckled on her skates. She had been wanting to skate with him, but she did not tell him so.
“You were too far away,” she pouted. “Would you have had me shout?”
“Yes,” he said. “You should have shouted.” His voice was low. Tingles of anticipation reverberated through her although she could not place exactly what it was she anticipated.
“I could not.”
“I want to hear you shout my name,” he said, his voice decidedly deeper. It seemed to touch some secret part of her. She felt as if she were strung tight as a bow.
“That would be most improper,” she whispered.
“I suppose it would,” he agreed.
She glanced up, thinking she would see a playful expression, boyishly sweet and teasing.
His expression was playful, yes, but there was nothing boyish about it. His eyes could have melted the ice around them, and the heat of it transferred instantly, to Emily. It suffused her body in a wave of desire. She hit a little nick in the ice, or perhaps just lost concentration in that moment and their easy glide was interrupted. It wasn’t a stumble exactly, just a bit off balance, but his arms tightened around her.
He pulled her close to keep her safe, and she could feel the hard line of him against her body. He was so strong, so virile. The strength of his arm beneath her hand proved that he was no boy. He chuckled softly, the sound going straight to her core.
“Were you not enjoying your skate with Mr. Eldridge?” the duke asked with an edge of laughter. “Or, perhaps I was misinformed. Are you not fascinated with all things agricultural?” He grinned. “In particular, the balance between livestock and acreage; not to mention the proper work load for a two-year-old ox.”
“I am shocked that you are able to recollect that. You do have a marvelous memory,” she said as they resumed their skating.
“For what I wish to remember,” the duke replied.
He pulled her into a spin. Emily squeaked, much to her chagrin as she held on tightly to the duke’s arm. The flirtation was exciting and she felt a thrill at the banter.
She had regained her balance and when he loosed her to spin her; she was no longer overly awkward. In a moment, she was securely back in his arms, held so close she could hear his heartbeat. His skating was confident and he was so deliciously warm. She felt both secure and excited. There was nowhere she would rather be.
She did not remember when she had so much fun. Emily laughed aloud.
“Oh, that is a marvelous sound,” he said with a smile. His lips were close to her ear and she could feel his breath warm upon her. “I adore the sound of your laugh.”
When she looked up, his eyes sparkled with mirth. She thought that the sound of his voice was quite intoxicating too, but she did not say so.
His tone dropped a little lower. “Let us speak of pleasurable things. I should wish to hear more of your laughter.”
She thought, simply listening to him whisper in her ear was entirely pleasurable, and brought to mind salacious feelings, but she could not tell him how moved she was by his very presence so she said nothing. She only sighed, content to be in his arms.
“You must know I shall ever be your knight in shining armor. Well, perhaps a little tarnished,” he added.
“I do not mind,” she said and his arm tightened around her suddenly. It made her catch her breath. “But I should have appreciated your gallantry all the more had you come to my rescue one quarter hour sooner,” she teased.
“And I would appreciate your holiday more if you should choose to extend it,” he quipped, but his tone was serious.
“Oh, how long would you have me stay?” she asked trying to keep the conversation light although her heart was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings.
“Oh,” he said suddenly spinning them in a wide arc and pulling her in front of him, for a moment and turning them both backwards before he righted her.
She found herself leaning in to him to keep her balance; trusting him.
“Forever and ever,” he said in a tone that recalled their conversations of yesteryear, but she heard wistfulness in his voice.
It did feel good to skate with him like this. He was skilled in the pastime, and she assumed that he had spent hours on the ice.
“I would have you stay,” the duke said softly and leaned in to her so that he stood like a protective shield above her willowy frame. What exactly was he asking? Emily was unsure how to answer.
21
The duke suddenly reversed direction, pulling her close and spraying ice as he suddenly stopped, making a sharp turn to avoid some children who had cut in front of them. The sudden turn caused him to pull her close, and Emily felt wonderfully secure, but the emotion was lessened, perhaps by the children, or perhaps by the spray of ice itself.
She took a breath, settling herself.
Two young boys came to a skidding stop in an ungainly heap only a hand’s breadth away from where the lovers stood. For, Emily was quite certain, lovers they were. The pair broke apart before anything more might be said and the duke helped the children to their feet. Emily was unsure she was yet steady enough to aid anyone. She smiled at the children.
How many times had she and Alexander skidded to a stop, narrowly missing an adult when they were children? She exchanged a glance with the duke and wondered if he was remembering too.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” the smaller of the two boys chirped with a bow as Alexander righted him. “You know, my father has been real sick this year. He cannot shake the chills since the influenza. It was awful nice of you to send over those baskets of food. He says you are the best thing that happened to Bramblewood.” The boy patted his stomach. “And your cook sure knows what she’s doing. I think I shall miss it when Father gets well.”
The other boy, who was a head taller poked his little brother, for they were surely brothers. Then the taller boy spoke in a hushed reverent voice, “Good day, Your Grace,” he said somewhat nervously.
“Good day to you. Are you brothers, gentlemen?” Alexander asked sizing up the elder boy.
The little one nodded vigorously and spoke again regardless to his elder brother poking him. “Quit poking me,” he hissed at his brother, and then turned back to the duke.
Emily had to stifle her laughter.
“John and Jimmy. I mean James Morgan, at your service, Your Grace.” The little boy gave an elaborate bow, and Emily had to smile as the taller boy followed suit albeit shyly.
“I think my cook may have need of an additional kitchen boy this winter,” Alexander said to the taller boy; John Morgan, Emily assumed. “But you would have to present yourself before the dawn on the morrow. You know the fires always need wood brought in by strong young lads?”
The boy’s eyes opened wide.
“You mean that we could be servants in your household?” John said.
“You may,” Alexander nodded. “If you are up to the task, Mr. Morgan. I think your brother is still a bit young.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. You won’t regret it,” John said his eyes wide.
&nb
sp; Alexander gave a slight shrug. “It will save a man the trouble of having to deliver supper to your father,” he said. “Of course, kitchen boys eat in the kitchen.”
“What about me?” the younger boy asked.
“Hush,” his brother admonished him.
The duke smiled and assured both boys that the baskets would continue to come until his father had improved. “After which,” he leaned forward with a conspiratorial whisper to Jimmy. “I am sure we can work something out for a fair price. Do you like to pick apples?”
“I sure do, Your Grace!” the young boy beamed. “I like to eat apples too!”
The duke laughed and it was a joyous sound. Emily wanted to hear more of it.
“Well, come next season, I could use some good climbers for the picking although you mustn’t eat too many apples. I would not want you to get a belly ache.”
“Oh, I won’t,” Jimmy said seriously. “My mum says it all goes in my hollow leg.”
Emily burst out laughing and then covered her mouth.
The duke grinned at her and then turned back to the boys. “Will you spread the word among the village boys for me?” The boys nodded with enthusiasm. “None younger than you, mind? The cook makes a fine meal for all of the pickers, and usually some spare to take home.”
“And apples?” pressed the younger boy.
“Yes,” the duke said. “Apples.”
Emily fondly remembered climbing the apple trees with Alexander. Some tree branches she could not reach, and the longer limbed boys climbed leaving Emily and Anne on the ground, but the apple trees tended to have low hanging branches that the girls could reach. Many times they sat in the branches and ate the fruit too. She found she missed those times. She was happy then. She wondered if she ever had been truly happy since.
With a whoop young Jimmy raced off to tell their mother, but the older John bowed with as much dignity as his lanky form could manage. “Thank you, Your Grace,” he said seriously and then turned to hurry after his younger brother while their mother waved with gratitude from the hill.
“That was a very fine thing to do,” Emily said as she tucked her hands into the crook of the duke’s elbow and allowed herself to lean against the surplus of heat that radiated from his coat.
“It was nothing, really,” he replied with a shrug.
“It was everything to those boys,” she added. She could tell that the duke was uncomfortable with such praise and so it did not surprise her when he soon changed the topic.
They resumed their skate side by side. Emily glided ahead for a moment to collect her thoughts and then made an abrupt stop, turning around, to drift backwards before she spoke. Yes, she thought, she definitely had her skates under her now and unlike a dance in London, they could skate together for as long as they liked. The duke’s thoughts must have run along the same lines.
“I am glad we were able to skate,” he said.
“Why wouldn’t we?”
“Year before last it never got quite cold enough to trust that the ice was thick enough to hold the skaters.”
“How sad. Everyone must have been disappointed.”
“Yes,” he agreed as he took her hands in his, and swiveled her around so that he was going backwards instead of her. In a moment he pulled her back into his arms to skate with her.
“I must say, I have missed this,” she said with a wistful sigh.
“The skating, Northwickshire, or…” he hesitated, “me?”
“All of it,” she grinned. “Although I shall thank you for not getting an inflated opinion about it.”
His deep chuckle resonated in her soul. “I have missed it as well,” he replied. “Though, I have always had the skating and Northwick, so, mostly, it is you.” He brought a gloved hand up to stroke her face and she remembered his warm hands on her face when they had gone riding. “I have missed you. I had almost gotten used to you not being here, but since your return, I have been reminded how much was lacking from my days.”
Emily was overcome with emotion at his admission. It was the closest thing to a profession of love that she had ever received and her heart soared to the clouds. She pressed her cheek to his shoulder for the briefest of moments to revel in the pleasure of his words. His scent bore the sharp tang of wood smoke from the bonfire and his own musky aroma. It caused tremors of delight to flow through her. She was trembling for all the joy that wanted to burst forth from every inch of her being. Alexander mistook the tremble for a shiver and assumed a chill.
“Are you cold? We could move closer to the fire.”
There was a raging bonfire on the shore at the other side of the lake, and people were gathered around it warming their hands, but she was happy right here in his arms.
She shook her head. “I am not cold.”
“Do your fingers still lose feeling when you skate?” he asked.
“Always,” she positioned her hands closer to his warmth. “I have always had difficulty with the cold in my hands even though I wear lined gloves.”
“Yes,” he chuckled. “I do recall.” He stopped along the far side of the lake and reached into his pocket. He revealed a spare pair of woolen mittens, just as he had done so many years before.
Emily gasped and cradled the mittens in her hands. He had remembered. She paused and turned to stare up at the man before her. “How did you…” she murmured.
“As I said, I remember what I wish to remember. They were my mother’s,” the duke said. “She made them the year before she died.”
Suddenly the mittens felt even more special.
Emily looked into his kind eyes as he helped her to place the extra woolen layer over her own fine gloves. She could feel the outline of Alexander’s fingers on hers and the warmth of the mittens as he pulled them over her hands.
“I think, you have not changed so much as you profess,” he said.
But she had changed. Emily knew that now. She had come here, a girl toying with the idea of marriage. She thought that once she said yes to some gentleman, all would be decided and she would be content, but now she saw that was not so. She saw her whole life stretched before her. She knew marriage was so much more than a few words said in a church. It was love.
She was in love with Alexander. She felt she had always loved him. She loved him for a million small reasons. She loved him for cups of chocolate, and for ice skating and secrets shared on rainy afternoons. She had once thought that London had everything she needed. Now, she knew that was not true. Everything she desired was right here, reflected in Alexander’s eyes.
“I do hope that you will consider staying for a while here in Northwickshire. Here with me,” he whispered.
Forever and ever, she thought, as he held out a hand to her. She found her heart was beating in her throat and she could not answer.
“Shall we?” he asked.
She looked up at him and putting her hand in his said, “Yes.” He pulled her close and they resumed their round of the lake, their steps perfectly matched.
22
Emily still had not decided what she was getting her family for Christmas. Of course, she had already brought gifts from London for Aunt Agnes, Uncle Cecil, and her cousins. The youngest of which had taken to shaking the boxes daily and making wild guesses about what might be inside. Emily had taken Anne’s idea and knitted Edmund a new scarf that he could wear skating. She still had her mother and father though to find some little trinket to show her love.
“Why didn’t you get something in London?” her brother asked her when she begged him to take her into Northwick. He sighed and complained, but Emily coerced him into accompanying her to town.
She considered sending Robert a letter so that he might not think that she had forgotten him, but decided against it. That would be too forward. She did not think it wise to continue to encourage him until she had figured how to diplomatically inform him of her choice, and she was beginning to hope that choice would be the duke.
“So Father?” she said, hop
ing to elicit Edmund’s help with the Christmas gift.
“Box of cigars,” Edmund said without hesitation.
Emily wrinkled her nose.
“He doesn’t have any hobbies,” Edmund said. “He does nothing but work. What else can you get him? Personally, I thought of a bottle of fine brandy, but he would know that I only bought it so I could drink it myself.”
Emily laughed. “That is not the purpose of a gift. The purpose is to make the person realize you are thinking of them and that you really know them and care about them.”
“So, that’s the problem,” Edmund quipped.
“Do not tease,” Emily said. “You know you love Father even when he annoys you.”
“Do I?”
“What did you end up getting him? If you didn’t get him the brandy, which was really for you?”
“Cravat.”
Emily shook her head. “Didn’t you get him a cravat last year?”
Edmund nodded. “But last year’s was blue. He said it was too dark. This year it is white. He can’t say that is too dark.”
Emily laughed and then coaxed Edmund into showing it to her. She exclaimed that it was quite nice. “I don’t suppose you would trade me?”
“Trade you?”
“Why don’t you get him the cigars?”
Edmund considered his sister for a moment. “Then I would have to go into town to get them,” he said.
“Exactly,” Emily said with a smile. “We could go into town together.”
“Alright,” he said at last with a long suffering sigh. “I spoil you,” he said.
“Yes, you do,” Emily agreed. “That’s because you love me.”
“I will have someone hitch up the carriage.” He pointed a finger at her. “But no more favors. You should have bought something in London. It is not like you to leave things to the last minute.”
The Duke's Winter Promise: A Christmas Regency Romance Page 16