Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset

by Samantha Holt

  He lifted his hand, and brushed the tear away as it slipped onto her cheek, then drew her into his arms. She felt a great quivering in him, as he held her, and wondered what moved him so much as to cause it. The thought was driven away in an instant, when his lips came down upon hers. Passion flared within her, an ache, an awareness of her breasts, where they pressed against him, and a curling warmth deep inside her lower body. It was so undeniably carnal a response that it shocked her, but it was deliciously so – she returned the kiss with all of the intensity that she had not yet dared to put into words. The kiss deepened, became a mutual exploration of things unsaid, of possibility.

  The sensations that filled her were deeply erotic – she had no other word for them – and made her think of what might happen, were they alone, in a bedchamber. Just the idea of it brought images into her mind that heated her body further. When they drew apart, her breathing was rapid, her heart pounding. He cupped her cheek in his hand, and she leant into it, craving his touch, as she had never craved Drummond’s. he wet his lips, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Olivia...”

  Her name on his lips was sweet, another thing she had missed, she realised – there were few in her life close enough to speak her given name. He swallowed, quivering again – nervousness?

  “Olivia, I... I have come to care for you a great deal. I could never allow something like er, distance to keep us apart. I cannot imagine allowing a whole week to pass, without time in your company. You have er, er, changed my life, have given me things I did not even know I missed, until you gave them to me.” He paused again, and Olivia waited, her thoughts scattered, her body still intensely aware of his touch. “Olivia... I never thought to say this, to any woman, yet here I am. I love you, Olivia, more than I have ever loved in my life.”

  For a moment, the room spun around her. He had said... How could she respond? She, who had dismissed the idea of love for so long, yet had come, so recently, to see its value. Could she admit... She had to – if he had managed it, surely she could do so as well.

  “Edward... I believe that I love you too. I am ashamed to say that, for most of my life, I have believed that love did not matter, except for love of one’s children. But you... you have changed my perception of that, and Sterling and Amelia have simply confirmed for me that I was a complete fool to discount love. I had hoped... but to have you say it... Thank you Edward.”

  As she spoke, a smile had spread across his face. He looked more handsome than she had ever seen him, the echo of what he must have been in his youth most clear. He pulled her into another passionate kiss, and she gave herself to it, completely. A tap at the door made them startle apart. Olivia stood, hastily brushing her skirts into order.

  “Enter”

  Waters came into the room, and she suddenly wondered if her hair looked completely out of place – for the tickle of an escaped curl on her shoulder told her that not all pins were where they should be. Waters, always impeccably discreet, went on as if nothing was out of place at all.

  “My Lady, the maids are asking for direction – they are not certain which of your gowns they should pack to be sent to Hemsbridge Park, and which they should leave for your use here, and Mrs Fordham asks which of the household items you would like sent to the Dower House, as none of us are sure exactly what is there. It has not been used since your husband’s mother went to God, some twenty years ago.”

  Olivia sighed, and cast a glance to Edward, who simply nodded. She turned to him with a wry smile.

  “Professor Greenidge, it seems that I must leave you to the joys of the library alone, for now. Please do feel free to proceed with the research. But we must continue this... conversation... very soon.”

  That remarkable smile lit his face again, and she felt her heart beat faster. He bowed.

  “Of course, my Lady, I would be delighted to continue our... conversation... at the earliest opportunity.”

  She followed Waters from the room, her mind still full of what had been said, and her body aching with the desire that his kisses had raised.

  EDWARD SAT IN HIS BEDROOM, nursing a glass of brandy and staring, yet again, into the fire. As the year moved into autumn and the weather cooled, the warmth was welcome. Tomorrow, Olivia’s son would marry. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He had not, since the day that Sarina had left him, attended anyone’s marriage. He had always found an excuse to avoid such things. But Olivia had asked him, shyly, if he might attend this one, to support her. Her other two children would be there, with their spouses, of course, but she felt rather alone, nonetheless.

  She did not know, of course, that he avoided weddings, or why – he had never told her of his past. Perhaps, soon, he might do so, although the idea of speaking of it quite terrified him. Still, he had managed to tell her of his feelings... even if they had been interrupted. The fact that she reciprocated those feelings amazed him, and left him feeling totally unsure – what should he do about their shared feelings? He could not even allow himself to think about the concept of marriage – that had been a disaster the first time! But he wanted her, wanted to spend more and more time with her.

  He sipped the brandy, considering the morning, the very idea of seeing someone wed, knowing that they did so for love. Perhaps it was good that he would do so – perhaps it might help to finally remove the pain of old memories, at least a little. And once it was done... he could concentrate on helping Olivia adjust. Although the idea that she might move to the country, might be so far from him, did not appeal at all. There had to be a better solution. He swallowed the last of the brandy, and took himself to bed. As so often lately, his dreams were filled with warmth, and kisses.

  EDWARD SAT IN THE CHURCH, close beside Olivia. Her hand rested on his arm, and her eyes glittered with unshed tears – of happiness, as far as he could tell. The ceremony was almost done, the happy couple made man and wife. It was an odd feeling. But he could see, both in the guests around him, who seemed to include many happy couples, and in the pair standing before the minister, the evidence that marriage could be a far different thing than his experience.

  That recognition brought a little peace into part of him that had been distressed for thirteen years now. He savoured the soothing of that perpetual ache, acutely aware that he would never have taken this step without the woman by his side. The fact that his own marriage had been a disaster did not, he now realised, mean that every marriage was like that. He felt a little foolish for having taken so very long to achieve that recognition.

  So he sat, and smiled, and passed Olivia a handkerchief, when the tears finally overflowed, as Sterling and Amelia, now man and wife, turned to leave the church.

  Back at Asterwood House, Olivia was swept into the final parts of the arrangement of the Wedding Breakfast. Edward left her to it, and slipped into the quiet of the library to await the time when she might wish his support at her side again. He fully trusted that Waters would come to fetch him when he was needed.

  OLIVIA HAD SURPRISED herself with her tears.

  She had not been such a watering pot at either Tobias’ or Gloriana’s weddings! Edward, delightful man that he was, had taken it in his stride, and simply passed her a handkerchief. She had only realised, once they were back at Asterwood House, that no-one had even raised an eyebrow at the fact that she was accompanied by Edward. The thought was fleeting, as the moment that she stepped through the door, she was swept into final arrangements.

  Edward disappeared, no doubt to the library, and left her with her staff. His absence from her side left her feeling a little cold, aware of the space where he had been. She pushed the feeling aside. This was Sterling and Amelia’s day, and her own wishes and thoughts could wait until tomorrow.

  The rest of the day went smoothly, and the obvious joy that Sterling and Amelia found in each other further reinforced the change in Olivia’s beliefs. It seemed that love really was worth seeking – she remembered her own wedding day – she had been excited, but she had n
ot felt the way that Amelia obviously did – now that she reassessed it, she rather thought that her own wedding day had been bland by comparison. ‘If I could do it all again’, she thought, ‘I would aim for such joy as love brings’. But there were no second chances in life – she could not turn back the clock.

  When all of the guests had departed, she bid Edward goodnight. The door closed behind him, and the thought rose in her mind ‘I wish you could stay, that I might have your warmth beside me as I sleep’.

  Sternly, she told herself not to be silly – the man had his own home to go to. But still, she dreamed it, dreamed that he lay in the bed beside her, in fact, that he did far more than simply lie there. She woke flushed and full of desire as she had never done before in her life.

  By mid-afternoon, Sterling and Amelia were out of the house – gone for what would be at least a few weeks. Unlike many, they had not chosen a grand tour to the continent, but had simply decided to spend some time alone, in the small country estate that Amelia had inherited. With them gone, the house felt empty, and Olivia was left with the fact that now, what she needed to do was finalise the shape of the rest of her own life.

  Perhaps she should go to Hemsbridge Park for a short visit, to truly look at the Dower House and what it contained, to make decisions about what was needed. She flinched from the thought. Nonetheless, she set about arranging it – she would not let herself be so foolish as to avoid it until the last minute.

  EDWARD ROSE LATE THE next morning, from a sleep broken by odd dreams, in which he relived the rather cold and practical wedding he had been through with Sarina, over and over. It left him wishing that there were ways to turn back the clock, to do things again, to do them differently. If he could do that, he would not marry Sarina, no matter the pressure from their families. Now, oh so many years too late, he understood what he had not then – that a cold start would inevitably lead to a miserable end. The dream made him all out of sorts, and almost irritable.

  By the time he had breakfasted, he felt somewhat better, and, after a short walk in the fenced park in the square, he settled himself to his research. So much of it involved reading accounts of people’s lives, and noting everything that was said about relationships, births, marriages and more, trying to piece together family lines – both the legitimate and well recorded ones, and the illegitimate ones, which might be hidden from the records, but were often revealed in the journals and ordinary notes about people’s lives.

  Now, he saw all of that differently. It had come upon him slowly, as his relationship with Olivia had grown, and he had watched her struggle with admitting that love had value. Now, what he saw in all of those old tales, was often a very clear picture of where love had actually been – whether inside marriage or without. Now that he understood what love looked like, he began to discover clues in the journals that he had never noticed before.

  It brought a new layer of interest to the whole process of research. By mid-afternoon, he had made excellent progress on his current line of research, and found himself wanting to share it with Olivia. As he sat back in his chair, considering whether he could reasonably call on her that day, there came a knock at the door. Startled, he waited – no one called on him here, except Olivia, a few times, when she had wanted to see books from his collection – generally, he had gone to her.

  Moments later, Jamison tapped on the door, and came in, followed by a messenger, who had obviously come far, and fast, from the grime that coated his boots and his coat.

  Chapter Ten

  A sense of imminent disaster filled Edward in that moment, and a shiver ran through him. Jamison spoke.

  “Professor... A messenger, with news which he says he is only to impart directly to you.”

  Another shiver ran down Edward’s spine.

  “Come in er, er, er, man, and sit – you can as er, well er, tell me er, sitting as not, and er, you look to be er, er, done in.

  Edward gritted his teeth – damn speech hesitation – it was always worse when he was worried, or nervous! The messenger sank gratefully to a chair, then drew out a sealed missive, and passed it to Edward.

  The seal was not one that Edward recognised. That sense of disaster filled him again, and he stared at it a moment, almost afraid to open the thing.

  But he must – he could not just sit there. He broke the seal and unfolded it.

  To Edward Greenidge.

  I regret to inform you that your brother, Reginald Greenidge, Viscount Camberton, and his wife were involved in a carriage accident yesterday, which resulted in their deaths. As such, you are now Viscount Camberton. We await your urgent direction in the matter of your brother’s funeral, and the ongoing management of the estate.

  Yours

  Partridge

  Butler

  Camberton Chase

  Edward read the words three times, before the reality of them sank in. He, who had been the third son, the unnecessary one, was now Viscount Camberton, and the sole surviving member of his direct bloodline.

  He felt ill.

  Viscounts needed heirs. He didn’t have one, and wasn’t likely to get one – he refused to marry just to breed, especially as he loved Olivia. There was probably a relatively distant cousin, who would inherit if he did not have an heir – but still, the whole situation horrified him.

  “Jamison, give this man food and somewhere to rest.”

  “Of course. This way.”

  Jamison led the messenger from the room, looking back at Edward, curiosity written clear on his face.

  “When he’s settled, please come back to me.”

  Jamison bowed, and shut the door as he went out.

  Edward sat, staring at the fateful message. The words remained the same – words which changed his life, utterly. He was not filled with grief – yes, he regretted Reginald’s passing, but they had never been close – grief was something which might come to him later, perhaps, once he got past the shock of it, and reality took hold.

  Minutes later, Jamison returned. Edward silently handed him the missive, and watched as Jamison read it. The Butler looked up, his expression shocked. After a moment, he bowed.

  “My Lord. My condolences. I will inform the staff. What would you have me do?”

  Edward shook himself out of the blankness, bringing his analytical brain to the issue.

  “I believe that I er, must, as soon as possible, er, er, depart for Camberton Chase. Early tomorrow morning will have to er, do, given the er, er, lateness of the hour now – there is not much er, daylight left for travel. Please ask Keller to prepare my er, er, er, clothing and essential items, and ask er, Porter to have the carriage ready for dawn er, tomorrow. Once that er, messenger has rested, send him back with the er, message that I will be there as soon as I can. Bring me er, er, something small to eat now, and then I must er, make some calls, starting with the family’s er, London man of business.”

  “Certainly, my Lord.”

  Jamison bowed out of the room, and Edward sat, staring blankly for a short while. His mind was whirling. It would take some getting used to – being called ‘my Lord’, having to make a whole raft of decisions which he had never had to care about before. He knew that Reginald had placed copies of his, and Anne’s, wills with Burton and Fossingham, their men of business, so that was his first place to call – the solicitor would need to come to Camberton Chase to read the will. And there were, undoubtedly, many papers that he would need to sign, and much process about confirming him to the title.

  But the second place he had to call, was Asterwood House. He had to see Olivia, to tell her, before he took himself into the country to deal with all of this. The thought that he would most likely be away from her for some weeks left him feeling empty, and frustrated – he did not want to leave her.

  But he had no choice.

  OLIVIA DECIDED TO TAKE an early dinner, and simply rest. Her trip to Hemsbridge Park was arranged – she would leave the following day. Much as it pained her to contemplate a week or so
away from Edward, she had to do this, she had to face the way that the rest of her life would happen, and the best way was to act now.

  If she did not, she would become maudlin, and blue devilled, which she refused to allow herself to do. She had packed enough books and supplies to at least continue her research whilst away.

  She had hoped that Edward would call during the afternoon, but it seemed that she would be disappointed.

  Olivia looked at the last of the boxes that Eliza had packed, and, satisfied that she would have everything she needed, went downstairs to the parlour, to await her dinner. The house felt odd, empty, because she knew that Sterling would not be back for some time. What would she do for company at Hemsbridge Park? For Edward could not easily visit her there, certainly not every few days, as he did here. It was not a thought she liked. As she reached the parlour, there came a knock at the door. Her heart beat faster – could it be Edward?

  Moments later, he was shown into the room. He looked, she thought, rather grey and worn, and most unlike himself. She stood, and went to him, taking his hands in hers.

  “Edward, what is it? Has something happened? You look distressed.”

  He gave an odd half laugh as his fingers closed on hers. She led him to the couch, and pulled him down to sit. He looked at her a moment, then spoke, his voice soft, and his speech hesitation less noticeable than usual.

  “Yes, something has happened. Something I had not thought er, likely, although I should have considered it, after my nephew succumbed to that er, foreign disease. My brother and his wife are dead – a carriage accident, yesterday. And as a consequence, it seems that I am er, Viscount Camberton. With everything that entails. I leave at dawn for Camberton Chase, to deal with his funeral, and all of the er, necessary arrangements.”