She laid her hand on his back and dropped her forehead onto his bicep. “Sorry, love. I don’t want to leave you. I would never leave you. Everything just took me by surprise.” He nodded without looking at her. Hannah squeezed his arm. “Look at me.” She waited for him to turn his head. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
“I couldn’t bear it,” he whispered.
“Neither could I.” She smiled. “You’re my world. Don’t ever forget that.”
Emma cleared her throat. “Sorry, Han. I probably should have said something sooner. I just forgot.”
“Do you think we could at least get a message to my family... and Victoria?”
Emma shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve never thought to ask.”
Hannah patted Christopher’s chest. “Well, either way, I’m staying.”
“Of course you are,” Emma said. “Besides, what would you do if you went back? Work for a P.I. again?”
Hannah groaned. “Not my favorite job, I have to admit, but never a dull moment.”
Christopher faced Emma and wrapped an arm around Hannah’s waist. “What is a P.I.?”
Emma grinned. “A private investigator. She’s really good at it. Probably because she can shoot better than most men and has been in a few dangerous situations.”
Christopher choked out an, “Oh?”
“Emma,” Hannah warned when she saw the vein on Christopher’s temple pulsate.
“What kind of dangerous situations?” Christopher asked.
“Well, there was this one time when she was doing a stakeout. She was watching an abusive low-life husband cheating on his wife—”
“Emma. Shut. Up,” Hannah growled.
Christopher’s jaw was now clamped, and he spoke through his teeth. The vein still pulsed. “What happened, Hannah?”
Hannah shook her head and tried to put distance between them. “It was no big deal, Knight.”
He tightened his hold on her. “If it was no big deal, you’ll tell me what happened.”
Clayton stood and pulled Emma out of the parlor.
“Emma’s going to die a slow painful death,” Hannah said loudly.
“Hannah,” Christopher growled.
“It was fine. It’s not like I was there alone. Johnny was there too.”
Christopher reached for her hand. “Who the hell is Johnny?”
Is his voice getting higher?
Hannah pulled away. “He’s the guy who owns the agency.”
“The agency?”
“The agency I worked for in Portland.”
Christopher sat heavily on the sofa, leaned forward, and braced his forearms on his thighs. “And?”
Hannah sighed. “This dirt-bag tried to wrestle the camera out of my hands and of course, I wouldn’t let it go, so he hit me. He got one punch to my face...” She paused when she saw his expression. Christopher sat deathly still, but his face grew red.
“Go on,” he rasped.
“Um, well, I drew my gun and was able to scare him back before he could do anything else. Johnny wrestled him to the ground, cuffed him, and led him to the police station. Like I said, no big deal.”
“Your gun? Why the hell did you have a gun?”
“I told you. I can shoot...” Hannah took a step forward. “Christopher, are you okay? Your face is red.”
Standing again, he started to pace.
“Knight?”
He held his hand out, palm up. “You’re going to need to give me a minute.”
Hannah smiled as she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. “I’m fine. Nothing happened and it taught me a valuable lesson, which meant I never got into that situation again. No one has ever hit me since. I worked in Chicago too and never had another issue.”
He pulled her close and kissed the crown of her head. “Never again, Hannah, promise me.”
“I promise.” She raised her chin for a kiss.
Clayton and Emma came back into the room and Hannah’s anger got the better of her. “Emma, you’re such a shit-stirrer. What the heck is your problem?”
Emma held her hands up in surrender. “It wasn’t my intention to stir anything, Han-Han. I’m proud of you and was trying to share something that I thought was really cool. I’m sorry. Really.”
Hannah could never stay mad at Emma for very long.
“I think you’re both tired, and we should probably try to get some sleep. Chris and I are working a short day tomorrow and then it’ll be a big Christmas, so let’s rest,” Clayton said.
The couples stood and made their way upstairs. Emma apologized again and Hannah hugged her. Emma helped Hannah out of her corset and then went to join Clayton.
Hannah was just climbing into bed when she heard a knock. “Come in.”
Christopher walked through the door.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sleeping here tonight.”
Hannah frowned. “What?”
“I have surmised that with the events of the night, I’ll end up in here anyway, so rather than having my sleep interrupted, I’m just going to make sure your nightmare never happens.”
“Are you going to sleep in your clothes?”
Christopher leaned against the bed. “I can’t very well sleep in what I usually do.”
Hannah raised an eyebrow at him but pulled the covers back anyway. “Hop in.”
He climbed in with her, pulled her body close and kissed her shoulder.
“Yeah, this is totally going to help me sleep,” she said sarcastically. “Spooning with you makes me want you so much less.
Christopher chuckled. “Roll over.”
She faced him and he kissed her as he settled his hand on her hip and then slid his hand to cup her bottom.
“Knight,” she whispered.
“Roll the other way, Hannah, or I won’t be able to stop.”
She kissed him one more time and then turned her back to him. At some point during the night she woke shivering, and tried to sink further under the covers.
Christopher wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Come here.”
She snuggled closer to him and quickly fell back to sleep.
* * *
Hannah woke the next morning to find Christopher gone, but the fire in her room roaring. She snuggled back down in her bed, feeling warm and rested. Emma came into her room an hour later. “Time to get up and help me decorate.”
“Your place looks great. What’s left?” Hannah asked with a laugh. “Is Sophie wearing off on you?”
“I want to put mistletoe up.”
She climbed out of bed. “Ah. Well, I’m all for extra excuses to kiss Christopher.”
“Leave your hoops off, it’ll be easier to maneuver.”
“Not if my skirts drag on the ground.”
Emma grinned and opened Hannah’s wardrobe. “This is why I had this made for you.” Reaching inside, she pulled out a green day dress. “It’s several inches shorter than your others, so it won’t drag on the ground.”
“You’re good value, Em.”
“I’m aware of that.”
Emma helped Hannah with her clothing, and then they made their way downstairs.
* * *
Christopher and Clayton arrived home early as promised. Christopher walked into the parlor to find Hannah on the top rung of a ladder he wasn’t entirely convinced was secure. With a growl, he rushed over to her. “Hannah!”
She let out a frightened shriek as she lost her balance. Christopher reached her just as she slipped off. He caught her and held her close as his heart raced. “What were you doing on the ladder?”
“Hanging mistletoe.” She looped her arms around his neck.
He took a deep breath. “Why were you on the ladder?”
“Because Emma is way more afraid of heights than me.” She frowned. “I drew the short straw.”
Christopher squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to control his fright and anger. “Hannah, why wa
sn’t Walter on the ladder?”
“He went for a walk with Hattie.”
Christopher turned on Clayton. “Why the hell is your man not here? He’s supposed to keep them safe.”
“I’ll speak with him,” Clayton promised.
“No, you won’t,” Hannah said. “Emma and I told them to go. We were fine.”
“You just slipped off a ladder, Hannah. What if I hadn’t been here to catch you?”
“Um, helloooo. I slipped because you startled me!” Hannah pointed out.
“Hannah.”
Hannah sighed. “Well, you did! Now, please put me down.”
“Not yet,” he said and held her a little tighter.
“Knight, you’re being silly.” She kicked her feet out from under her skirts. “Put me down.”
He glanced at her feet. “Where are your shoes?”
She pointed to the corner. “Over there.”
He set her gently on the floor, but kept his arm securely around her waist. “No more ladders.”
“Yes sir!” Hannah saluted him.
He gave a look of reproach, but didn’t comment further.
“I’m hungry, shall we eat?” Emma broke in.
“Yes.” Hannah sent a pointed look in Christopher’s direction.
“Put your shoes on,” he whispered as they moved out of the room.
“No.”
The couples ran into Walter and Hattie as they walked through the foyer. Clayton quickly pulled Walter aside before Christopher could.
“Stop it,” Hannah admonished at the look of death on Christopher’s face.
“He should have been here.”
“We were perfectly safe and, if you think about it logically, you’ll see that.” Hannah took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Be nice to Walter. He deserves a life just as much as we do. We told him to go, and he made sure the house was secure before he left, so give him a break.”
Christopher let out a breath of frustration, but nodded his acquiescence.
“Thank you,” she said. “Now, let’s eat.”
They sat at the table and prepared plates of food, just as Clayton and Walter walked back in the room. Hannah almost laughed out loud when she saw the silent conversation that happened between Walter and Christopher. Neither of them spoke, but both understood everything that was said.
* * *
Christmas morning dawned, the fall of fresh snow cleansed the air, and Hannah woke to a note from Christopher on her pillow. She dressed quickly and made her way downstairs to find everyone in the parlor.
Christopher rose to his feet and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning.”
Hannah grinned up at him. “Thank you for the note.”
Emma waved to her from her chair by the fireplace. “Come and eat. We thought we’d do gifts and breakfast at the same time.”
A simple fare was laid out on a table next to the Christmas tree. Hannah grabbed a scone and took a seat on the sofa. Christopher joined her, handing her a cup of tea.
Emma nodded to her husband. “Clayton’s going to play Santa.”
Clayton chuckled and knelt down next to the tree. Pulling out a rectangular package, he handed it to Hannah. “This is from Chris.”
Hannah grinned and set her teacup down. Releasing the ribbon, she opened the wrapping and revealed a velvet box. She glanced up at him and then opened the box and gasped. “Knight.” She held up an exquisite emerald and diamond bracelet, the stones an exact match to the ones in her engagement ring.
Christopher raised an eyebrow. “Do you like it?”
“It’s incredible.” She kissed him. “Thank you. I love it.”
“My pleasure,” he said as he accepted a package from Clayton.
As the paper fell away, a wooden box emerged, a silver plate on top, engraved with his initials. Lifting the lid, he let out a low whistle. Inside was a perfectly matched pair of factory-engraved Colt Model 1848 Baby Dragoon revolvers. The engraved back strap and trigger guard were silver-plated and the grips on the gun were nicely full.
“Hannah!” He pulled one out and held it.
“Do you like them?”
He leaned over and kissed her quickly. “They are remarkable.”
“Clayton helped me.”
“Did he?” Christopher raised an eyebrow at Clayton. “You did well.”
Clayton chuckled. “Hannah’s being modest. She knew exactly what she wanted. I simply assisted with the procurement.”
“I’ll thank you properly when we are alone,” he promised in a whisper as he turned back to her.
Clayton handed Emma a box similar in shape to the one Christopher gave Hannah. Emma opened it and gasped. She turned the box toward them and held it up. Nestled on black silk was a teardrop diamond hanging from a platinum chain. “Clayton, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”
Clayton kissed her and then focused on the gift she’d given him. He opened the small box and pulled out a gold compass. Emma blushed. “It’s our first Christmas together, and I wanted to remind you how happy I was that you found me. There’s something else underneath the fabric in the box.”
His eyes widened and he lifted the packing. He pulled out a gold pocket watch matching the design of the compass. “Emma, sweet.”
Emma’s eyes filled with tears. “Read the inscription later, okay? I don’t want to blubber like an idiot.”
Clayton made his way to her and kissed her deeply. “They are perfect. Much like you.”
Emma cleared her throat and then rose to her feet. “We should probably get ready, Hannah.”
Christmas afternoon would be spent at Douglas Hospital, along with the First Lady, to care for the wounded soldiers. Hannah was a bundle of nerves as she and Emma dressed.
“What do I say to her?” Hannah’s hands shook as she ran a brush through her hair.
“Mrs. Lincoln?”
“Yes. I don’t know how to address her or what subjects are kosher.”
“What you really need to know is that you shouldn’t talk to her.”
“What?” Hannah exclaimed. “At all?”
“Only if she addresses you, and under no circumstances should you touch her.”
“What do you think I’m going to do? Run up to her and give her a big ol’ hug?”
Emma smirked. “If she shakes your hand, then that’s fine, but don’t reach out to her. And if she asks where you’re from, England is probably the safest thing to say.”
Hannah gave a stilted nod. “What should I wear?”
“What you have on is fine and then when we return home, we’ll change for dinner. Gwen is joining us today as well.”
“She is?”
Emma nodded and smiled. “Yes, she’s an acquaintance of Mrs. Lincoln’s.”
“Of course she is. Is there anyone Gwendolyn Butler doesn’t know?”
“Probably not.” Emma smoothed out her hair and wrapped it into a tight chignon.
Hannah’s hands were shaking, so Emma took over for her and began styling her hair the same way as her own. “What will we be doing?”
Emma pulled the brush through Hannah’s locks. “Whatever they want us to, I suppose. Mrs. Lincoln splits her time each year between the two hospitals, Campbell and Douglas. She raises money for Christmas dinners, and any gifts of alcohol delivered to the White House are diverted to the hospitals.”
Hannah stood and smoothed her skirts. “Why?”
“Medicinal purposes, apparently. Sophie hates that none of this is publicized. She feels like Mrs. Lincoln gets a bit of a raw deal with the press.”
“Wasn’t Sophie also the one who says she was loony tunes?” Hannah fastened her earrings—well, tried to, anyway. She let out a frustrated growl.
“Let me help,” Emma said, slightly exasperated. “Yes, she’s not the most stable person, but you know Sophie. She tries to see both sides to everyone, always giving them the benefit of the doubt. Sophie’s convinced Mrs. Lincoln has bi-polar disorder.”
“G
reat. So, I can’t speak to her unless she speaks to me, and if I touch her, I’ll turn to some kind of stone... or ash... or something.” Hannah groaned. “I just don’t want to screw anything up for Christopher.”
“You won’t. Seriously, you’re blowing this out of proportion. I promise, you’ll be fine.”
Hannah nodded but didn’t fully believe her. They made their way downstairs, and before she could say anything to him, Christopher took her hand and pulled her into Clayton’s office.
“What’s going—?” She found herself in Christopher’s arms and kissed senseless before she could finish her sentence. “Knight,” she whispered as she broke the kiss and tried to catch her breath. “What was that for?”
“The pistols,” he said, also somewhat breathless.
“You liked them, then?”
Christopher chuckled. “Do you require further convincing?”
“Perhaps just a bit more.” He kissed her again, and she leaned heavily against him. “Okay, we need to stop, or I’m going to rip your clothes off and marry you right here.” Christopher let out a deep sigh and Hannah dropped her forehead onto his chest. “I’m sick of waiting.”
“As am I, sweetheart. But it’s not long now.” He tipped her chin up and stroked her cheek. “Are you ready?”
“Sort of,” she grumbled.
He raised an eyebrow. “What’s amiss?”
“I just don’t want to embarrass you.”
“You couldn’t.”
“Okay, but you must tell me if I’m going down the wrong path or something.” Hannah bit her lip.
Christopher squeezed her arm. “I won’t actually be with you.”
Hannah’s head whipped up. “What? What do you mean?”
“Clayton and I will be meeting with the President while you take care of the wounded.”
Hannah shook her head as she stepped away from him. “No. Uh-huh, I’m not going. No way.”
Christopher reached for her, but she deflected him. “Hannah, you need to relax.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
“I can’t believe Emma didn’t tell you,” he said under his breath.
“Eh?”
“Never mind.” Christopher slid his hands through his hair and then reached his hand out to her. “Come here, sweetheart.”
The Bride Spy (Civil War Brides Book 3) Page 19
