Christmas With a Scoundrel

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  For now that the dawn of a new day was creeping in, Aria could see that this room truly was a love nest for a wanton woman. The now-familiar red and gold colors were everywhere, from the pillows scattered about to the tassels on the bed hangings and curtains. There was also an over-abundance of velvet, from the bed to the walls and just about every place in between. Even the floors were covered in soft carpeting lusher than even the most precious Aubusson rug. They were, of course, also red.

  This was a scarlet room for a scarlet woman.

  Such things should have bothered Aria but as she lay content in the warm circle of Michael’s arms, she could not quite bring herself to care overmuch. Rather, the only thing she cared about was what came next.

  As if sensing she was awake, Michael roused slowly. “Good morning, pet,” he finally rumbled after a moment or two, his voice rough and thick with sleep. “I trust you slept well?”

  “Sleep?” she asked with a dry laugh. “I would hardly call what we did last night sleeping.”

  “Touché,” he replied, stroking her bare shoulder with his fingertips. “I suppose it would be more correct to ask if you enjoyed yourself last evening.” Then she heard his indrawn breath, as if uncertain of her answer.

  “You know that I did.” She slid her fingers over his bare forearm, reveling in the feel of the crisp hair there. “I enjoyed everything you did to me.”

  That caused him to chuckle as she had, the rusty sound coming from deep inside of him as if he did not laugh often. “Even the very naughty things, pet?”

  Aria shifted so that she lay on her back, able to look into Michael’s eyes. She wanted him to see her sincerity since this time, she had no actions to offer him. “Especially the naughty things.” She stroked her fingers over the scar near his eye. “I am not this sort of woman, Michael. I do not…indulge with men the way we did last night. I am not a lady of loose morals, and yet…”

  “And yet you came when I asked.” He kissed her lightly. “You are human, Aria, and you have just survived a very harrowing adventure. You nearly died. It is natural that your body and mind both seek more adventure partly, at least, to prove to itself that it is still alive.”

  She shook her head. “This is more than that. I came with you because I wanted you. Because I have wanted you from the moment I awoke here at Thornfield Grange.”

  He inclined his head. “Perhaps, then, last night was a little of both. It was part desire and part need to feel alive.”

  Aria was not inclined to agree with that assessment, but she could see the shadows darkening in Michael’s eyes again. She had noticed that happen when he became upset or angry, and she wondered if it was an effect from the war. Most likely, for she had met enough former soldiers to understand that for some, the battles never really ended. And even if men acted unchanged on the outside, somewhere deep inside, they were different than they had been before, their time at war shifting something inside them and stripping away any innocence they still had.

  Many of the former soldiers she had come in contact with were men who needed jobs. Her parents had hired many of those men, leaving it up to Aria to assign them specific tasks and arrange transportation for them to the West Indies. In dealing with them over the years, she had caught brief glimpses of the darkness that lived inside of those men, just as she caught a glimpse of that same darkness living within Michael.

  Time to change the subject then. It was a tactic that had always worked before.

  Shifting again so that now she was lying face to face with him, Aria placed her palm on Michael’s chest, directly over his heart so that she could feel the strong and steady beat. He was alive. So was she. They might be a bit damaged about the edges, both of them, but they were also both still here. And last night had changed things. So the question then became, what happened next? For that, she had no answer.

  “Perhaps it was a bit of both,” she acquiesced gently. “And perhaps, just perhaps, mind you, I would like to do that again. Would that…be permissible? Or was your offer for one night only?”

  That wolfish grin she was coming to know so well spread slowly across his face. He was back to himself and for that, she was overjoyed. “It can be whatever you like, pet. I know what I want, what I desire. The only question is, what do you desire, Aria?”

  “You,” she replied, speaking from her heart this time. “I want you, Michael. As often as you will take me, I want you. If that makes me a libertine like my cousin, then so be it. No other man has made me feel this way and I crave more, for I fear that no other man ever will make me burn as you do.”

  That must have been the right thing to say, for with a growl, Michael grasped her shoulders and rolled her over, pinning her beneath him. “Minx. Though if it is my body you want, then it is my body you shall have.” He kissed her deeply, his tongue seeking entrance into her mouth immediately.

  Aria moaned and gave herself up to the delicious sensations beginning to spiral through her body again. This was what she wanted – this sensation of being alive and free and passionate – for a long as Michael would give it. If that made her a wanton, then so be it. She could live with that. She simply hoped Michael could as well.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As the days drew closer to Christmas, Aria knew she should be eagerly anticipating some word from the men Michael had sent out to locate her Aunt Tilly. After all, during her near-imprisonment at Millstone, she had dreamed of spending the holiday season with her beloved aunt. Now, however, Aria almost hoped that her aunt never arrived so that she might remain here with Michael for as long as possible.

  It wasn’t as if her time at Thornfield Grange was perfect; far from it. Aria was still not able to venture out of doors, not that she had any great inclination to do so at the moment. However, there were also only so many types of holiday decorations one could hang, especially with no ball or house party in the offing. And as there were no balls or parties on the horizon, there were also no plans to make either. While Mrs. Adams allowed Aria to assist in the kitchens when baking was going on, this was essentially a bachelor household and Michael could only eat so many sweets.

  Still, Aria believed this was the best holiday season she had enjoyed for some time.

  There was no endless worry about whether or not she would be able to arrive at the chosen port in time so that she might sail for the West Indies while the conditions were favorable. There were no nights spent at questionable coaching inns while her parents attended to plantation business that always seemed to call them away from Millstone right around this most festive of seasons. There was also no fear that Felton might drop in unannounced, for he had been a bother to her even before her parents had passed away.

  And there were treats to be had here within the halls of Thornfield Grange. At least if one knew where to look.

  The house was always warm, and there was always a dessert of some type served with the evening meal. Mrs. Adams was being particularly creative this season, or so Aria had been told. There was also a well-stocked library that featured novels and biographies rather than the dull agricultural tomes that filled the shelves at Millstone. There was even an embroidery hoop or watercolors available if she desired them, the previous occupants seemingly filling this “hunting box” as they had termed it as if it was a true home.

  And then there was Michael.

  After their first day of coupling in what he now referred to as “the love nest,” he had been an insatiable lover, spiriting her off to the cottage every chance he was able. Sometimes even twice a day, if he was feeling particularly naughty. Not that Aria was complaining.

  For with Michael, Aria had discovered a passion and a pleasure she never imagined might exist. All of her life, Aria’s mother had told her that relations between a man and a woman were tolerable at best and mercifully quick most others so that the pain and humiliation did not linger longer than was strictly necessary. So when Michael had bedded her that first time, the last thing Aria had been expecting was her body’s
ardent response to his or the pounding desire for more that she felt almost from the moment he withdrew his cock from her body. Now that she knew how magnificent coupling could be, she craved more and thankfully, Michael was more than willing oblige.

  The morning after Michael had taken Aria’s innocence, he had suggested they enjoy a stroll in the conservatory after breakfast. That stroll had led to a few heated kisses and when Michael had all but begged her to return to the love nest with him for the remainder of the morning, Aria couldn’t agree fast enough. That seemed to surprise him to some degree, as if he was expecting her to refuse him after their first time making love. But she hadn’t. She never would and if some other woman – or possibly women – in his past had? Well then, they were fools.

  Aria was no fool, or at least she did not consider herself one, anyway. She understood that her time with Michael was limited and at some point, her aunt would arrive to whisk her away. But Aunt Tilly hadn’t appeared yet and until she did? Aria intended to make excellent use of the time she had been given. Which was why, the night after their return trip to the love nest, Aria had snuck down the hall and into Michael’s room where he had promptly taken her straight to bed. They had been together every night since and now, Aria wondered how she would go back to sleeping alone when the time came.

  Not that she should be dwelling upon such matters. Instead, she should be praying that she would not find herself increasing, as neither she nor Michael had been particularly careful about that issue. Instead, Aria was thinking about what would happen to her when Aunt Tilly arrived. For there was no doubt in Aria’s mind that her aunt was out there somewhere and would arrive at Thornfield very soon. Probably sooner than Aria would like.

  And when that day came, Aria would find it difficult, if not impossible, to leave these lovely halls. Though she hadn’t been in residence long – not counting her time in the sick room – she had lived at Thornfield Grange long enough to appreciate its quiet beauty and serene timelessness. She belonged here. Or at least she wished to.

  For her, this place felt like coming home. It felt like family.

  Here, through some sort of magic, she felt as if she belonged.

  Would Michael want her to stay, even after she was well? Aria would if he asked. There was nothing for her outside of these walls but here? Here she had found a place to rest her heart and if Michael was sometimes more demon than man? Well, no one was perfect. Though he was always a perfect lover. There was no denying that.

  “A message for you, my lady.”

  Aria’s head snapped up from the book she had been pretending to read to find Markham looming over her, his hands clasped behind his back.

  Shaking her head, she placed her book aside and blinked a few times to clear her vision. “Is something amiss?” She was also fairly certain she was blushing, given that she had just been imagining Michael as he had been last evening, naked and rising above her like a Greek god.

  “Your aunt will descend upon my doorstep on the ‘morrow.” That came from Michael who was hovering near the door of the library. “You are dismissed, Markham. Sorry, my friend, but I couldn’t wait.”

  “Very good, Doctor.” The butler gave a slight nod. “I shall begin making the preparations you requested.”

  Once the other man departed, Michael quickly locked the library door behind him. Then he turned back to Aria, his arms crossed over his chest. “Your Aunt Tilly has been located.”

  “So I have just heard.” Aria did not like the feeling that now settled in the pit of her stomach like a rock. “And she will be here tomorrow.”

  Michael nodded, his face unreadable. “In time for dinner or so my men inform me.” He held Aria’s gaze and just then, she had no problem believing that he had led a rag-tag group of military men across the plains of Spain. His eyes were hard and his jaw set so firmly that she was afraid his bones might crack.

  Aria approached him slowly, not wanting Satan’s Physician to make a reappearance as he had that day in the tunnel system. That side of him did not frighten her, but it did pain her greatly to see him suffering that way. “Talk to me, Michael. Tell me what troubles you.”

  “Nothing,” he bit out sharply, the shadows and darkness lurking in his eyes once more. “Nothing troubles me.”

  “Liar,” she shot back, unwilling to allow him to retreat into the blackness. Not now when she needed him more than ever.

  “Minx,” he retorted out of habit, the shadows continuing to creep through his gaze.

  Aria snorted and shook her head in aggravation. “We can continue calling each other names all afternoon or you can speak to me.” She reached up and touched his face as had become her habit, her fingers once more tracing the scar near his eye. The first time she had touched him there, he had flinched away from her caress, but now, he closed his eyes as if her touch was welcome. “It is me, Michael. In the last few days, I would wager that I have seen more of you than any other woman you know. I also believe that I have come to know you fairly well. I think I can handle whatever you wish to tell me. Remember that I am stronger than I look.”

  When Michael finally opened his eyes, they were dark and dangerous, just as they had been in the tunnel that day. However, the shadows were receding. Her words had reached him. He was still angry, but he was not about to fly into a rage. It was an improvement, however small, and Aria would take it as a small victory.

  “Your Aunt Tilly sent me a note. She knows you are here with me and she disapproves. So much so that she wishes to allow your cousin Felton to pick your husband.” Michael’s words were filled with anger, but again, not rage, another sign that she had diffused what might have become an ugly situation.

  “What?” Aria was so shocked that her voice nearly failed her. Perhaps a little rage was called for after all. “She thinks my reprobate cousin should be in charge of selecting a husband for me? I suspected she might force me to marry when she discovered that I was here alone with you, but this? Has she gone mad?”

  “That is what she told my men when they found her, and further reinforced with the note she sent back with them. Among other things.” Michael snarled angrily, but his temper was quickly cooling and the more level-headed physician emerging from wherever he went to hide during the flares of rage. In fact, he seemed almost civilized. “Pet, I am sorry to say this, but I do not think your beloved aunt is the same woman you remember. You have spoken of her as a gentle and refined woman, one of taste and elegance and breeding.”

  This time it was Aria who crossed her arms over her chest, tamping down the black anger rising inside of her. Whatever Michael had to tell her was likely not good. Which, deep inside, was partly what she had feared all along. “And? For I know there is more to be said.”

  “And my men found her in a rather disreputable gaming hell in London. She has an uncanny knack with cards. Particularly whist. She is also something of a…a…”

  “A drunkard?” Aria finished for him with a sigh, the anger fading away within her as well. She should have expected this. She did expect this, actually. She had simply hoped she would be wrong.

  “You know?” His tone was incredulous. “How?”

  Aria slid her hands down to rest her palms on Michael’s chest, needing the hard, unyielding strength of him just then. “I never knew a time when my aunt did not imbibe with drink, often to excess. Though I love her and recently have believed her to be my only hope of safety from Felton, I have also always known that she is deeply flawed. We all are, you see, some more than others.”

  “Go on.” Aria could see the curiosity in Michael’s eyes.

  “When my aunt wed?” She shrugged. “Her tendency to drink overmuch seemed to vanish to a large degree, though whether it did in truth or not, I cannot say. I simply know that she did not drink as much as she once did, especially at parties for I saw that with my own eyes. Nor did she indulge for a long time after her husband died. Now that he has been gone for so long, I confess that I am not surprised that she has returned
to her old habits. I always believed she managed to curb them in the past simply to keep her husband happy.”

  Michael shook his head. “God, you are observant and rather insightful. No one should ever underestimate you. Is there anything you cannot guess at, pet?”

  Aria twisted her lips. “I cannot guess what my aunt is thinking with this madness. That I do not know. Nor do I know how I can escape this fate she now has planned for me. She was my last hope in escaping Felton.”

  Reaching out, Michael caressed Aria’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Ah. That, pet, is a question I know the answer to, if you will allow me.”

  “And what answer might that be?” Aria wasn’t certain she wished to know.

  “If you already have a husband when your aunt arrives, she would not need to grant the responsibility of selecting one for you to your reprobate cousin. Legally, she could not.” Then Michael smiled that wicked, wolfish smile of his and Aria was struck nearly dumb.

  Aria shook her head. She has sworn she would not repay his kindness by trapping him into marriage and now she was doing exactly that! It did not matter that they shared a bed and so much more. She cared too much for him to do this to him. “You cannot mean that, Michael. Only the other day you told me that you had no need of a wife.”

  “Need? No. Want? I am uncertain.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “But I desire you, Aria. I want your body with a passion I cannot seem to tame. And while I have no idea what you desire, other than my body of course, I am certain that you will do anything to avoid being at your cousin’s mercy. That is, I think, the most important matter. We are friends as well. Friends with desire. That is paramount in any union. The rest of the details can be attended to later.”

  Aria protested again, something cold running through her, something that she doubted even the warmth of Michael’s body could chase away. “But I swore on that first day that I would not do this! Not to you!” she cried, gripping the back of a chair. “This is not how I would repay your kindness to me.”