Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset

by Samantha Holt

  “You haven’t failed, Colin.” Lucy squeezed his arm, and he reeled with the comfort that small action brought. How long had he kept these thoughts to himself, battled with them in his mind alone? “Life has merely handed you a series of setbacks that you haven’t handled with nobility or grace.”

  “I know.” He didn’t have guidance, no longer had access to her voice in his head that had served as his moral compass. If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose himself in those Arctic depths of hers. Would she save him from drowning?

  Lucy gave him a small smile that brimmed with empathy. “You loved her when you married, didn’t you? There must have been some emotion there for you both to wed.” The low, dulcet tone of her voice wrapped around him, and he calmed somewhat.

  “I was... fond of her.” The more he spoke, the more of himself he laid bare at her feet, and the more she’d grow horrified of his behavior. “I married her out of obligation due to her carrying Ellen. My father and hers demanded it.” Colin rubbed his eyes, suddenly exhausted. “I thought Adelaide and I would grow into romance, that we could have the idyllic love as my parents and yours enjoyed.”

  Over the course of his marriage, he’d hoped his union would have that deep and abiding affection, but it had never developed. He’d not felt the things he had when he’d been with Lucy all those years ago.

  “You worked at it, though.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes. She became my goal for a time.” Colin leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on his knees. “With Adelaide I wanted to succeed, to show her I wasn’t the man she’d met when she was my mistress.” To amend the fact that he had failed where Lucy was concerned.

  I tried to be a better man, but it hadn’t worked.

  “I remember that about you, that determination.” Lucy smiled again, but it wasn’t full and it didn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing would stop you once you had your mind set on something.”

  Except winning you. I never could manage to see that to the end.

  He forced a swallow into his dry throat. “The second pregnancy was an effort to bring us closer. We thought the addition of another child was what we needed to finally have things feel like a family.” But nothing he or his wife had done mended the rifts between them... for there was no love at the foundation. “It was my second chance to make things right.”

  Lucy’s eyes went limpid with understanding. “But she didn’t survive.”

  “No.” Unshed tears crowded his throat, and he swallowed to alleviate the excess of feeling. Colin didn’t win that battle. Instead, he let the tears fall, regardless if it revealed his weakness. For so long he’d had no choice except to remain strong for Ellen, to keep up appearances for the sake of his reputation, to deny his feelings to himself. Now, with this woman, it felt natural to show his real self, to finally mourn, because she would understand. “I wanted that child, Lucy,” he said in a frantic whisper. “That son.” He swiped halfheartedly at the moisture on his cheeks as he held her gaze. “Perhaps my children were the only thing I did right... and I’m ruining the chance with Ellen.”

  “Oh, Colin.” Lucy’s eyes swam with tears of her own. The compassion in those ice-blue depths became his undoing.

  At the other side of the room, his daughter had gained her feet. “Papa, are you quite well?” Concern threaded through her voice.

  The “papa” broke him. No. I haven’t been well for some time. Desperate for direction, for help, Colin threw himself to the floor, knelt at Lucy’s feet. He had no idea how to answer Ellen. “I’ve destroyed everything that ever meant something to me.” Every relationship he’d entered into had fallen beneath his ennui and his quest to forget since that long-ago Christmas when he’d tumbled into a perpetual free-fall. “I don’t know what to do now.”

  “It’s never too late to change,” Lucy choked out, and when he laid his head in her lap and sobbed, she didn’t dissuade him. She let him cry while she stroked her fingers through his hair. “Ellen, please order a fresh pot of tea. Your father needs a moment to gather himself,” she said, and her voice rang with the gentle command of a woman used to restoring order.

  “Right away, Lucy,” Ellen said. Her footsteps pounded on the worn hardwood as she ran from the room.

  Once they were alone, Lucy whispered, “It’s all right, Colin. You needed to let your emotions come out.” Each stroke of her fingers through his hair, glancing along his forehead and nape, brought a fair measure of calm. Oh, how he’d missed that. “Time eventually heals all wounds.” Her breath warmed his cheek as she bent close to him. “You have a chance to be a better person.”

  Perhaps stupidly, hope rose in his chest. “A chance to win you back after I’ve been such an arse all these years?” he asked quietly, and though his tears had stemmed, he held his position, enjoying too much her nearness, the warmth of her. The subtle scent of daisies teased his nose and he smiled, for she’d favored that perfume in her youth.

  The slight inhalation of her surprise rang in the heavy silence. “I’m not certain such a thing is possible. We are not the same people we were all those years ago.”

  “Perhaps that’s the point.” Colin finally raised his head. He caught the confusion in her gaze, the banked heat of something buried deep in those depths, and the silly, foolish hope bloomed brighter. “We are both at a place in our lives that anything is possible once more.”

  “I... we...” She floundered, and then her cheeks held a hint of a blush when he grabbed one of her hands and placed a kiss upon the back. “Too much history between us is, well... too much. It would always stand as a specter of the past.”

  “Or serve as a warning of what not to do in the future.” When his daughter came back into the room, Colin stood. He wiped the remains of the tears from his cheeks. “Ellen, my girl, I think I’ve turned a corner.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that.” She ran lightly over to him and threw herself into his arms. “It will be lovely to have a real Christmas this year.” The girl hugged him tight, and his heart squeezed.

  “Don’t expect great miracles straight off. I’m not such a hero as all of that.” He set her away from him in order to look at Lucy. “Thank you.”

  “You’re more than welcome.” When he grinned, feeling decidedly wicked, another swath of color flooded her cheeks. “I should...” Lucy shot to her feet while fluttering a hand, presumably to encompass the detritus of their earlier repast.

  He nodded, choosing to keep his own counsel for the moment, but his mind whirled. From that moment, he vowed to stop making her miserable for the hurts of their shared past. He would start helping her rediscover Christmas magic—for them both.

  Chapter Nine

  The rain continued much of the afternoon, and since Colin didn’t fancy attempting muddy, rutted roads and perhaps rendering the coach stuck or breaking a wheel, he consented to linger, making use of their private dining room to relax. If they continued on later in the evening, they could still reach the next posting inn at midnight and remain on schedule to reach Lancaster Hall by Christmas Eve night.

  Plenty of time to still win his father’s wager.

  But the biggest surprise of the day was the congenial companionship the three of them enjoyed that afternoon, almost as if after clearing the air of his excess emotions it had somehow started them over with a fresh slate. He marveled, even speculated when, upon the times he’d caught Lucy’s eye, she offered him tentative smiles. Perhaps she didn’t hate him or think less of him as he’d previously thought she might.

  He didn’t know how to feel about the change, but he wasn’t going to argue with it.

  Colin sat reading a copy of The Times by the fire while Lucy taught Ellen how to embroider, which had required him to sacrifice another handkerchief. He hadn’t minded, for it afforded him the opportunity to see the ladies interact.

  With their heads together and the firelight flashing off the embroidery needles and the ring of their laughter rendering a cheerful atmosphere to the shabby room, the
walls around his heart cracked and began to crumble. This is what Ellen needed in her life, this gentle guidance and leading, this subtle encouragement on how to be an effective and helpful member of society, for among the conversation, Lucy provided quiet instruction on how a young lady should deport herself and act once achieving her Come Out.

  Then his mind jogged to unmet dreams. Ellen could have been their child if fate hadn’t become skewed. Colin laid down his paper and stared at the two ladies, unseeing. What were Lucy’s children like? Did they resemble her or Jacob? An ache in his heart flared and he absently rubbed the skin above that organ. Jacob, his best friend and the man he’d never forgiven. What an arse he’d been over the years. It hadn’t been Jacob’s fault Lucy fell in love with him after Colin had acted like a spoiled fool.

  If he had the opportunity to live those years differently, would he? In all honesty, probably not, for his stubborn determination had gained him a fortune in his own right. Those risks Lucy couldn’t envision sprouting into solid investments had landed him on solid footing, and he’d never once needed to rely upon his father’s coffers or his charity.

  When Ellen’s trill of laughter echoed, followed by the more rich and full chuckles from Lucy, a sigh escaped him. He glanced at her, caught the gay flash in her eyes, the flush of the fire on her cheeks, the curve of her lips as she smiled at Ellen’s handiwork, he stifled a sigh. Lucy had grown into beauty as the years had marched on. Instead of the young, innocent girl’s body, she’d acquired womanly curves and experience, and she was no less appealing to him than she’d been all those years ago. In her laughter, she was the same lady he’d fallen in love with.

  What would a child of theirs look like? All those years ago, when they’d innocently explored together in the forgotten garret of Lancaster Hall and had spoken of their dreams, they’d talked of children and of having a family. They’d built castles in the air before they’d known better, before the realities of life had intruded and made a mockery of those dreams, but Colin remembered. Did she? Perhaps it was pointless to wonder, for they were here, and though they both had children, they weren’t a family, but were merely traveling companions. Lucy had her life; he had his.

  And he loved her still, but she’d made it clear there was nothing for them in the future.

  THE RAIN HAD LET UP in the early evening, and when Colin roused himself enough to tell the ladies to prepare for travel, Ellen surprised him.

  “Papa, when I was in the common room earlier, I heard some of the guests talking of a winter festival in the village tonight—through Christmas actually—and I think it would be ever so much fun to attend.” She stared up at him with excitement roiling in her soft brown eyes. “May we go? There’s a band, and dancing, and food.”

  “We really should return to the road...” He began in dubious tones, but when he glanced across the room and met Lucy’s gaze, and a spark of interest lit those depths, his resolve weakened. “Although, I don’t see the harm if we linger for another hour or so.” Ellen clasped her hands and gave a hop of glee. Colin smiled. “We shall resume our trip after that.” Surely the delay wouldn’t affect their arrival by the time demanded in his father’s letter. After all, he’d made certain there was an extra day to allow for travel complications.

  “Truly?” Ellen asked with an expression of shock and pleasure.

  “Yes, truly. Am I such an ogre, then, that this little thing gives you so much joy?” He tweaked her nose, much as he’d done when she was small.

  Her giggle squeezed his heart. “No, but you haven’t been fun for a long time. This is surprising.”

  Heat snuck up the back of his neck. “I vow to do better, my girl.” And he would, after his emotional-laden conversation with Lucy.

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Then Ellen’s countenance grew concerned. She tilted her head to one side. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Absolutely.” He gave the top of her head a gentle pat. “Do not worry over me. I am working toward being a better father for you, but you must practice patience. Miracles do not happen overnight.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It is the Christmastide season. They surely do.” Then she left him to join Lucy who lingered near the fire. “We’re going to the festival in the village. Isn’t that amazing?”

  “It certainly is... surprising,” she agreed with a look at him.

  Colin grinned. He executed a half-bow. “I live to serve, and if I can make my girls... er, make my daughter smile, then all to the better.” What a green mistake, that slip of the tongue. He hadn’t any right to Lucy or her smile, but he’d damn well show her a good time in the hopes that something he did brought amusement to her.

  Perhaps she’d remember...

  Ellen gave him an inscrutable look, but finally, she nodded. “Are we dressed well enough?” She smoothed her hands down the front of her emerald green dress. “It’s hopelessly wrinkled, but I suppose you can order the luggage out...”

  And have them changing become an hour-long production? Oh, no. “You both are splendid, beautiful even,” he said quickly. “Shall we away and discover the holiday wonders that await us at this winter fair?”

  His daughter nodded with enthusiasm. “Oh, I have a feeling this jaunt will be the start of something amazing,” she said with all the excitement a fifteen-year-old girl could bring.

  “I suppose we shall see,” he murmured as he once more peered at Lucy, who was busy packing away her embroidery supplies. I’m not hoping for amazing, but I’d settle for friendship.

  Thirty minutes later, Colin and his party walked about the village festival. Some of the grounds were muddy, but they avoided the worst of it in favor of drawing closer to the lively music played by a five-piece, rag tag band in a covered gazebo. Lantern light and candles provided soft illumination and spots of golden color. Laughter and the happy buzz of conversation filled the air. Delighted cries and shouts from children rang out to punctuate the holiday spirit that clung to the whole scene.

  The only thing missing was snow.

  Here and there, wheeled carts and their vendors offered roasted chestnuts, cups of mulled wine, and other holiday delicacies. Colin gladly gave Ellen the required coin and told her to indulge herself as much as she’d like. She thanked him with a kiss to his cheek and then scampered away to explore the fair with shining eyes and rosy cheeks, as long as she promised to stay within eyesight.

  With nothing else to do, Colin offered Lucy his arm. She’d been rather subdued ever since they’d arrived, and he aimed to pull out a smile or two, if he did nothing else. “Walk with me, Mrs. Ashbrook, while we watch the young people and remember our own irresponsible youth.”

  Her lips almost curved into a smile, but after a moment or two of hesitation, Lucy put her hand through his crooked elbow. “We were hardly irresponsible.”

  “You were most definitely not.” He glanced about the area and the gay antics of the village jugglers they walked past. Ellen had paused to buy a pastry from a cart vendor, and from the looks of the blush in her cheeks, the young man did his level best to flirt with her. No wonder, for she was a vision with her blonde ringlets and shining eyes. A sigh escaped him. “Ellen is nearly a woman. It happened so fast I’ve missed it.” How many times over the past years had he escaped into drink in an effort to numb himself to the memories and in the course of forgetting remained absent from the present?

  “You are here for her life now. Don’t waste the second chance.” The hood of her navy cloak hid her face from his view. “She’ll need you more than ever during these years. Heaven knows my two keep me as busy as when they were young.”

  “What are they like, your children?” Perhaps in learning about her life, he could find the key of rekindling that spark they’d used to enjoy.

  “They bicker a good portion of the time.” A tiny smile curved her kissable lips. “I don’t suppose they’ll ever grow out of that.”

  “Lord knows my siblings and I didn’t,” he said without thinking. “Or, we didn�
��t when I used to see them on a regular basis.” Surprisingly, he missed that aspect of his family, the friendly bantering, the good-natured teasing, the noise.

  “I don’t know who was more horrible: your brother or your sisters,” Lucy agreed with a nod. “In my children’s case, Simon is the oldest, and since he considers himself the man of the house, he thinks it’s his duty to dictate what Beatrice should or shouldn’t do. For my daughter’s part, she’s too stubborn and independent for her own good, which vexes her brother.”

  “She takes after her mother,” Colin said in a low voice. “Your father wasn’t best pleased when you developed a tendre for me, what he considered a wastrel with no future.”

  Lucy remained quiet for long moments, and when he assumed she wouldn’t respond, she finally said, “Papa only wished to see me happy. He didn’t understand you.”

  “Did you?” he asked softly, not daring to peek at her.

  “Yes, I think I did on many levels.”

  “But not the one that mattered most.” Instead of the bitterness that usually accompanied the remembrances of their past, a longing filled him, not for a return of those seemingly idyllic times, but for something more, something new.

  Her hand tightened on his arm. “That was the past, and something I don’t wish to talk about at this time.”

  “Fair enough.” He contented himself with escorting her through the festival grounds. When he offered to buy her sweets or foodstuffs, she refused every suggestion. Her smile never returned. Colin let her lapse into silence as he pored over how to give her back a portion of the happiness she’d returned to him after he’d bared his feelings. “You used to love Christmas, Lucy. It troubles me to see you so maudlin.”