Rebecca furrowed her brow. “Are you certain you wish to take a tree into the house? It will make a dreadful mess all over the carpets. And could easily catch fire when it dries, especially if you plan on putting candles on it. Frankly, the entire notion smacks of paganism, like some ancient Druid ritual.”
“Precisely.” He grinned impishly, delighted with her reference. The twinkle in his eye reminded her that beneath the proper, upright manner the earl had a mischievous streak. “This custom is one that is wholly embraced by our queen and I should like to try it at Windmere this year. Anyone voicing a strong objection would obviously be considered disloyal to the crown.”
“Ridiculous.” Rebecca shook her head. “It still seems very unnatural to me, almost foreign.”
“It‘s festive,” he insisted.
“It‘s odd,” she retorted.
“My goodness, Rebecca, you need not look at me with a face that could curdle cream. ‘Tis just a harmless tree.”
“Curdle cream? What a beastly thing to say!” She flounced her head haughtily, but could not hold back her smile. There was something remarkably intimate about being teased by him. “Fortunately for you, Lord Hampton, I am a woman of little vanity and great confidence or else I should be highly insulted by your erroneous remark.”
“Minx.”
His gaze lowered to her mouth. A trick of the sunlight scattering through the treetops made his eyes gleam with a strange illumination. He took a step toward her. Rebecca‘s lips began to tingle.
“I see no oak trees in the vicinity,” she said as his hand rose and his thumb slowly glided over the exposed flesh at her throat. The light stroke brought a swift, throbbing arousal to every part of Rebecca‘s body. “There appears to be no mistletoe hanging from any branches.”
“None? Are you certain?”
“I am.”
“I believe you need to look again, sweetheart.”
He bent his head toward her. Rebecca lifted her chin. He touched her only with his mouth, his lips softly easing over hers. Disarmed by his gentleness, she felt herself starting to melt.
Thoroughly enjoying the tremor of her body, and his, she drank in the hot, spicy sensation. There was passion, there was comfort, there was trust. It was a perfect kiss, sending thrills along every nerve ending.
They smiled naughtily, secretly, at each other as they broke apart. Yet niggling at the back of Rebecca‘s brain was the notion that Cameron‘s kisses were something she was beginning to anticipate with far too much emotion and delight to so easily dismiss him from her thoughts or her heart.
———
Charlotte continued to gaze out the window of the sitting room, her mind wandering, her thoughts un-focused. Christmas was a mere two days away. Followed by the Twelfth Night celebration and soon after the guests would begin to depart. Including Daniel.
The realistic side of her nature told Charlotte she would most likely never see him again once the holiday was over. This unusual holiday invitation seemed to be some kind of impulse on her brother‘s part. The Tremaines were not an ordinary social acquaintance of the family; it seemed unlikely they would be included in other events. Cameron insisted it had been business that brought them to Windmere and Charlotte doubted this odd circumstance would ever again occur.
The thought saddened, almost depressed her. She knew she had to stop thinking about it, for it was beginning to make her head hurt. With a conscious effort, she turned her attention to the ribbons and trinkets scattered on the desk, telling herself she needed to concentrate on making the ornaments for Cameron‘s big surprise. But her heart was not in the task.
Someone knocked on the door. “Come in.” She swiveled in her seat and focused her attention on the door.
Daniel opened it. He stared at her mutely, his brown eyes guarded and mysterious. “May I join you?”
It was an improper suggestion, even though they had spent time alone in each other‘s company on several different occasions. This section of the house was deserted except for a few servants. Being cozily sequestered in this private manner was pushing hard against the boundaries of propriety. She should refuse him entrance.
Charlotte folded her arms about herself and took a steadying breath. “We shouldn‘t be in here alone.”
Without being invited, he paced to the window and gazed out at the frozen landscape. “I can open the door if you wish.” He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes still shuttered and mysterious. “But I would prefer to keep it closed.”
Charlotte‘s heart, already fluttering with anxiety, skipped a beat. Propriety be damned. “Let me pour you some tea.”
She reached for the teapot nestled beneath a woolen cozy that had sat untouched at the corner of the desk for the past half hour. Pouring a cup for Daniel, she set it on the desk. Taking a small plate she next selected a scone, two cream cakes, several ginger cookies and a lemon biscuit.
He dragged a chair from in front of the fireplace and put it near her own. As she handed him the brimming plate of sweets, he stroked a finger gently across her hand. Charlotte blinked, yet held his gaze, wondering if the gesture had been deliberate. His shy smile told her it might have been, though he sat back and munched on his scone as if he were unaware of the sizzling contact.
Charlotte popped a lemon biscuit in her mouth and tried not to choke.
“Have you had a pleasant morning?” she asked.
“Tolerable.” He took a small sip of his tea, then placed it back on the saucer. “Is your brother about? I asked several of the servants and no one seems to know precisely where he has gone.”
“Cameron is on a most secretive errand,” Charlotte said primly. “‘Tis a surprise Christmas treat for the guests. I assume he will be returning home by late afternoon. Was there something specific you wanted to speak with him about?”
Her question produced a most peculiar reaction. Daniel‘s face heated with a flush that might be construed as embarrassment. “‘Tis a personal matter.”
“Personal, not business?” Charlotte idly stirred her tea with a silver spoon. “Pardon my inquisitiveness, but I sense an animosity between you and my brother simmering beneath the surface of your very civil behavior toward each other.”
“You are a very wise, observant woman, Charlotte.”
“Does it have anything to do with me?”
He shifted in his chair. “No, it does not concern you. At least not presently.” His face clouded, almost as if he regretted that remark. “‘Tis a somewhat indelicate family matter that has caused this friction between us. I am afraid I cannot share the specifics with you.”
Charlotte felt a odd stab of pain. “You don‘t trust me to keep the matter confidential?”
“You could not be more wrong. I trust you completely. The secret is not mine to reveal. It is between my sister and the earl.”
Gracious! Charlotte had seen an undercurrent of emotion between her brother and Miss Tremaine, but she never suspected it was a secret that bound them together. Absently she selected a ginger cookie from the tray, although her appetite had fled.
“I have to say, this has been the most unusual Christmas season we have ever had at Windmere,” she mused. “Even I confess to having felt so different these last few weeks. So very unlike myself.” She twirled the cookie between her fingers. “In an odd way I am like a maiden in a fairy tale who has awakened after a long, cold sleep. I believe I have you to thank for that, Daniel.”
“I cannot take all the credit for this long, overdue change, Charlotte, though perhaps I had a bit to do with your new awareness. It pleases me to think that I might. But I have not transformed you, my dear. I have merely given you the confidence to finally emerge from your cocoon.
“Years of defining yourself by but one small part of your whole have clouded the truth in your mind and in your heart. You are not your crippled leg, Charlotte. You have a depth of spirit and strength of character that any man would admire. Never forget that you are a lovely woman, a desirable wo
man.”
She looked at his sincere expression and her chest seemed to constrict. “No gentleman has ever noticed me before. Except you.”
“Fools, every last one of them.”
Charlotte coughed lightly to hide her embarrassment at the remark. Her seclusion from society had ensured that there had been little chance of any man noticing her before, but even if someone had, Charlotte doubted she would have reacted this way toward them.
Daniel was unique, special. He made her feel alive in ways she never dreamed, never thought possible. It was as if she had never truly lived until they became acquainted, became friends.
But deep within her heart, Charlotte knew she wanted far more than friendship. Even more than love. Of course she wanted to love a man with all of her heart, wanted that same man to love her in return.
But she also desired a man she could confide in, a man she could reveal herself to without fear or ridicule. A man who loved her despite her weaknesses and faults and frailties. Though she had long suspected and even longer tried to deny it, Charlotte admitted to herself now that Daniel Tremaine was that man.
It was almost a relief to acknowledge the feeling, though she could have done very well indeed without the confusion and doubt that also circled her heart. Knowing she could not possibly swallow beyond the lump in her throat, Charlotte put down the ginger cookie. Yet needing to occupy her hands, she picked up a Christmas ornament she had been crafting earlier.
Daniel leaned forward. He was close enough for her to catch the scent of lemon on his breath from the biscuit he had just eaten. Bizarre what an appealing aphrodisiac lemons could be. Funny, how she had never before noticed such a thing.
He raised one hand and rested it on her shoulder as the fingertips on his other hand traced the sloping line of her jaw.
“You are making it hard for me to concentrate,” she said, clumsily trying to tie a red bow on the top of the glass sphere.
“That was rather the idea.” He cleared his throat. “Charlotte…Lady Charlotte, I have a most important matter to discuss with you.”
She turned in her chair to face him. The ornament dropped from her nerveless fingers and rolled across the carpet. He ignored it, taking her hand in his, gently uncurling her fingers and placing their palms together.
Moisture pricked at the corners of Charlotte‘s eyes, and she struggled not to let it fall. I love him, she thought, looking at his handsome face and his beautiful eyes. I love him utterly.
Though Daniel denied it, she knew he was the reason she had been able to transform herself. If he left, she would inevitably retreat to the safety of her old self, would forever remain an observer instead of a participant. The sadness of it nearly made her cry as she wondered if it would have been easier not to have tasted this small bit of bliss, if it would have been better never to truly understand what she would be denied.
He cleared his throat. “You have a comfortable life here, with your family. All that you need.”
She blinked, trying to understand what he was saying. “Well, yes, I suppose. Cameron is kind and generous. Mother loves me dearly and is a comfortable companion. Lily is the true life of the house, keeping us all on our toes with her antics.”
He nodded his head. “Yet aside from your family, you have other interests.”
“Yes, a few.” Her brow lifted in surprise. She had never really thought much about it. “I ride, as you know. And I like to garden. I have a particularly fine hand with roses, if I may be so immodest. And there is always my embroidery, of course.”
“‘Tis a good life,” he said quietly. “One you might not wish to change.”
Not want to change! Was the man completely daft? Her head moved vigorously from side to side. “Truth be told, I despise embroidery. And while I enjoy my rides, most days I feel lonely with just a groom trailing behind me. It would be wonderful to have someone ride beside me.
“But it‘s more than that, Daniel. I long for a companion, someone to share the trials and joys of life, someone who shares my interests, yet would introduce me to new ones.” She dipped her chin shyly. “Someone to gift one of my few perfect specimens of roses, those I am most proud of cultivating.”
“You would give a rose to a man, Charlotte?”
“I would give a rose to you, Daniel. If I thought you would take it.”
“Oh, my love.” He put his hand around her neck, drew her close, and kissed her forehead. “‘Tis a strange relationship we have developed these past few weeks. With you I have established a closeness I have never before felt, an ache I cannot conquer. You are a companion, a confidante, yet I want so much more. So much more I fear that I do not deserve, that I will never have no matter how much I wish for it. Oh, these many nights I have laid awake in my bed wondering if meeting you was a blessing or a curse.”
What was he saying? He left his chair and sank down on one knee in front of her. Charlotte‘s chest felt so tight she had difficulty catching her breath. He was on his knee, holding her hands. Was it possible he meant to propose? Or was it just her wishful, foolish heart hoping for the impossible?
Suddenly, she had difficulty controlling the trembling of her limbs. “Pray, tell me, what have you decided? Am I a blessing or a curse?”
“A blessing. I love you, Charlotte. Though I fear I am far from worthy of the honor, I would ask you, most humbly, if you would please consider my request to marry me.”
The tears Charlotte had been holding back slid silently down her cheek. She had never before felt such joy, nor such object terror.
“We will make a most unusual couple,” she said, thinking of her deformity.
He nodded his head, but she soon realized he was not referring to her crippled leg. “No doubt there will be society doors that will never be open to us, no matter how staunch the support we receive from our family and friends.
“At most I can claim a very distant relation to an impoverished baronet, several generations back. I daresay some in society will be hard-pressed to even declare me a gentleman. Clearly, you would be marrying beneath you.”
“That is ridiculous!” she answered hotly, but as Charlotte thought upon it, she realized Daniel was right. There would be some people who believed he was marrying her for her social position and connections. “Well, others might think I am marrying you for your money,” she countered.
He paused, his eyes alighting with interest. “Have you need of a fortune, Charlotte?”
He looked so hopeful, almost eager at the notion, she felt a twinge of regret having to tell him the truth.
“I have a substantial dowry and a generous annual allowance, that will increase when I am wed.”
Wed! The word echoed through Charlotte‘s brain and she nearly screeched with excitement. She took a deep breath, wanting this perfect moment of joy to last forever.
Daniel‘s face turned glum. “I can easily support you in the style that you are accustomed to and deserve. I have no need of your money and I insist that you allow me to supply you with a monthly allowance that you may spend entirely at your discretion.
“With your permission, I shall invest your dowry funds in a variety of solid ventures and place all subsequent profits in trust for our children.”
Children! She would have children. She muffled a sob of pure delight. “You are very generous, sir. Perhaps I will be accused of marrying you for your fortune?”
“Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but you have not yet said that you will be my wife.”
He actually looked a tad nervous. Charlotte might have smiled if she had not been so astonished.
“Saints above, Daniel, of course I will marry you.” She reached down to hug him and they nearly toppled to the floor. Laughing, they regained their seats, their hands clasped tightly.
“I will marry you, Daniel, because I love you, because I love how you make me feel about myself. You believe that I can do anything, you see me as a whole and special person, not an unfortunate woman with a bad limp. I will
marry you because you make me feel special and cherished and adored. And if all I can ever do is bring but a tenth of the happiness to you that you give to me, I shall be a successful wife.”
He broke into a smile so wide she was certain his jaw must ache. “With your permission, I will speak to your brother as soon as possible. But you must prepare yourself, Charlotte. The earl would be well within his rights to refuse me.”
“If he dares to, he can go straight to the devil.”
“Such language, my lady. Proof positive that I am already corrupting you.” He laughed and pulled her out of her chair and into his lap. “We will marry, Charlotte. With or without his blessing.”
“He will give it,” she replied confidently. “I feel as though I am dreaming. At long last I have gotten my most secret wish, my childhood fantasy of a romantic courtship, an adoring, loving, handsome bridegroom and a ceremony in the private chapel at Windmere.”
“Shall we marry in the spring?” he asked. “When the flowers are in bloom and the weather is warmer?”
Charlotte squirmed in his lap. Daniel sucked in a breath and tightened his hold on her waist. It was presumptuous and most unladylike, but she doubted she would have the patience or the fortitude to wait until next spring to become Daniel‘s wife.
‘Twas months and months away. How could she wait? And the most indecent, tantalizing hardness she now felt pressing insistently against her bottom let her know Daniel was of the same mind.
“I have always thought January to be an excellent time for a wedding,” she replied.
“January?” His breath let out in a rush. “Thank the stars. That leaves me but a few weeks to avoid your kisses.”
A cold fission of fear swept through her. Had he regretted his choice already? Charlotte bit her lip. “Don‘t you like my kisses?” she whispered.
“God yes, I like your kisses. I adore your kisses. Far too much.”
He shuddered. She frowned. “Then why is that a problem?” she asked.
“Because hot, sensual kisses lead to other things far too rapidly.”
The Christmas Countess Page 26
