“Everleigh . . .”
She presented her profile, her Ice-Queen facade firmly in place once more.
“Please don’t approach me again. I’m leaving just as soon as the weather permits.”
Christmas Day. At last.
The past two days had dragged on and on since Everleigh had told Griffin to leave her alone. She hadn’t gone down to dinner that night, but instead had cried herself to sleep, something she hadn’t done since marrying Arnold.
Her frosty guise once more in place, she kept to the fringes of the activities.
Sarah’s two gifts tucked beneath her arm, Everleigh held her emerald empire gown up with her other hand. What had possessed her to accept an early birthday present from Theadosia?
Surely it was the least she could do to thank her dear friend, she told herself.
Maybe she’d wanted to impress Griffin as well?
Why, when she’d made clear her wishes?
She caught sight of herself in one of the corridor mirrors. The gown was truly lovely and befitting the season. It had been a long while since she’d worn anything so colorful, and despite her fragile heart, the gown lifted her spirits a notch.
Evening cloaked the subdued light visible through the windows. And beyond that, snow covered the picturesque landscape. A perfect setting for the holiday.
Griffin must’ve conspired with Fate to keep her at Ridgewood.
It had snowed intermittently since the sleigh ride, and a good two feet or more of white covered everything. It had been decades since anyone had seen a December with such deep snowfall in Essex. Leaving was nearly impossible, and even though she longed to flee to Fittledale Park, she wouldn’t jeopardize a driver’s safety for her own selfish wishes.
She’d endured marriage to Arnold for two years; she could certainly abide a few more days here. The company was pleasant, the food exceptional, and Theadosia made sure no one was bored or overlooked. Still, even in a house this large, with the guests confined indoors, unless she stayed in her chamber, she couldn’t help but encounter Griffin.
Seeing him across the room hurt like a mule kick to her innards each time, but he’d respected her wishes and hadn’t approached her. His gaze never left her though, and the hurt and frustration in his eyes caused hers to get misty more than once.
He was a good man, and he did love her.
She didn’t doubt it.
Lying awake at night, reliving the passion they’d shared, recalling his witty rejoinders and the tenderness he showed her and Sarah, she’d come upon a startling discovery.
She might very well love him too.
No. She did love him.
Fear had crippled her, warped her emotions, until she didn’t even recognize what was before her. Shame infused her as she made her way to the drawing room where the great decorated pine tree stood. She’d used Griffin in the basest, meanest manner. Had their situations been reversed, she’d have thought him a monster for asking to bed her.
Her slippers whooshed on the marble floor as they had that first night. It seemed much longer than just over a fortnight ago.
What if she did carry his child?
An unwed woman ought to be dismayed at the thought, but she wasn’t. She’d welcome a child—his child—no matter what.
She paused at the entry to the drawing room. As expected, guests milled about the room and extra chairs had been placed throughout. Candles winked on the grand tree, beneath which were stacked mounds of presents.
“Everleigh! Your gown is stunning.” Gabriella grabbed her sister’s arm. “Look at Everleigh, Fee-Fee. She’s finally out of mourning.”
That caused several heads to turn in her direction, one of which loomed above all the others.
Ophelia sent a not-so-covert peek toward Griffin. Everyone probably thought the same thing she did, that Everleigh had set her cap for him.
Appreciation quirked his mouth the merest bit, as his hot gaze trailed over her, and from across the room she could almost hear him begging her to give them a chance.
“Evlee. Evlee.” Bum upward, Sarah scrambled down from the settee. She ran to Everleigh and held out her arms. “Up.”
Everleigh passed her gifts to Jessica. “Could you please give these to Mrs. Schmidt for me? They are for Sarah.”
The gifts for her cousins and the others had been brought down earlier in the day, but she’d needed to put the finishing touches on Sarah’s frock and doll.
“Of course.” Jessica smiled, catching the nurse’s eye. “You look lovely. Green is definitely your color. It matches your eyes.”
Everleigh lifted Sarah. “Hello, darling. Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Chris’mas, Evlee. I has a puppy. She has sharp teeth.” Sarah twisted, and looking over Everleigh’s shoulder, inspected the floor. Her little face crumpled. “I think Papa sent Claire to the nurs’ry.”
“I met your puppy. She’s adorable, just like you.” Everleigh hugged Sarah to her.
She’d miss the little mite.
She felt Griffin’s gaze caressing her again as he murmured something to Hampton while accepting a glass of champaign.
Mrs. Schmidt accepted the packages and extended her hand. “Let’s go for a walk and check on your puppy, shall we, love?”
A delicate way of saying it was time for Sarah to go to the nursery.
“Papa said I stay up late.” Sarah’s face contorted into a pout.
“You will, pet. You have more gifts to open.” She held them up. “And after supper, you’ll have plum pudding!” Mrs. Schmidt said. “Besides, this is Claire’s first night in the house. She’ll be afraid and lonely, and your puppy will want to cuddle with you.”
Everleigh passed Sarah to her Nurse. “I’ll come say goodnight to you too. I’d love to see your puppy again.”
Sarah stuck her lower lip out. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
She should’ve taken the gifts directly to the nursery, and had she been speaking to Griffin, she’d have known what his plans were for Sarah tonight.
She forced a smile as Nicolette approached.
“Everleigh, did you and Sheffield have a falling out?” Nicolette spoke low, but her eyes brimmed with worry.
Everleigh shrugged.
“Not exactly. It just wasn’t meant to be.”
“Bosh. What utter twaddle.” Nicolette slanted her gaze toward him. “He cannot stop staring at you, and you’re no better.”
“Please leave it alone, Nicolette.”
Everleigh didn’t mean to sound cross, but neither could she discuss something so painful.
A fleeting look of surprise skated across Nicolette’s face before she nodded. “All right. Come sit with me.”
She grasped Everleigh’s hand and towed her to chairs near the tree.
“I thought we were opening presents after supper?” Everleigh sank onto the gold and cream striped cushion.
“We are, but Theadosia said she wanted to make an announcement.”
Just then, Theadosia, wearing a spectacular ice blue gown, floated into the drawing room on Sutcliffe’s arm. She positively glowed tonight. As difficult as the past couple of days had been, she still deserved Everleigh’s thanks for forcing her out of self-imposed isolation.
She had enjoyed herself—mostly.
Her attention gravitated to Griffin, only he wasn’t there anymore. Swallowing, she lowered her gaze to her clasped hands.
She didn’t blame him for leaving. She found it hard to be in the same room with him too.
How she wanted to take those words back. Tell him to not stop trying to win her heart.
Why don’t you?
Why indeed? She’d nothing to lose.
Lifting her head, she searched the room. Drat and blast. He was truly gone, and she couldn’t very well go in search of him. Not without raising brows. There was also the worry that he might not accept her apology.
She’d never know unless she tried. Her stomach wobbled with excitement.
Oh, and she had to try. She had to, for he was her everything. Nothing mattered but him, not her fears or concerns. Just Griffin and what they had together.
She started to rise when Theadosia clapped her hands. “Please have a seat or find a place you are comfortable standing for a few moments.”
Sinking back onto the chair, Everleigh suppressed a frustrated sigh.
“We have an announcement to make.” Sutcliffe stepped near and wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist.
“Oh, what do you suppose it is?” Nicolette whispered in Everleigh’s ear.
“Given the specialness of this day when we celebrate our Savior’s birth, we thought it only fitting to tell our dearest friends and neighbors our good news.” Theadosia gazed at Sutcliffe with utter adoration.
He lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips. “We are to be parents, come summer.”
A chorus of congratulations echoed about the room, not the least of which was the Dowager Duchess’s cry of delight.
Everleigh took advantage of the melee to slip from the room. She headed toward the stairs, thinking Griffin might’ve have gone above to say good night to Sarah.
A movement in the dining room caught her eye.
Griffin?
What the deuce was he up to?
Looking very much like a naughty boy, he was moving the name tags around the table. From just outside the door, an amused smile curving her mouth, she watched him make a complete muddle of Theadosia’s seating arrangements.
“I do hope, Griffin, this means you’ve placed yourself beside me.”
He whirled around, one name card grasped between his fingers before a slow smile tinged with mischief arched his lips.
“I was just about to do so.”
He set the card down then stood back to admire his handiwork.
“I’ve been doing a bit of matchmaking.” He pointed. “Jessica Brentwood and Bainbridge. Miss Twistleton and Westfall. Miss Breckensole and Pennington—”
“You didn’t!” Everleigh rushed forward a few steps. He had indeed. “You wicked, wicked man. Gabriella will never forgive you.”
He strode to her and clasped her hand.
“It’s not her forgiveness I crave. Everleigh, I rushed you. I tried to force something you weren’t ready for. Please forgive me. And if you’re never ready to re-marry, I shall accept your decision. I only ask that we remain friends, that I may share your company.”
Friends?
Had he been nipping the brandy already? Friends didn’t do the naughty wonderful things she yearned to do with him.
“Oh, Griffin. I was looking for you to beg you to forgive me for hurting you. I was wrong. So, so wrong. I love you too, I truly, truly do. I want to be with you more than anything else.”
Touching his dear face, she blinked through the joyful moisture blurring her vision.
“It would be the greatest privilege to be your wife.” An impulse sprang to mind, and she clasped his hand. “Will you marry me?”
Chuckling delightedly, he crushed her to his chest.
“Yes. Yes! Lord, yes. I shall marry you, you delightfully unpredictable woman.”
She tilted her head back, eyeing the kissing bough above their heads. “I believe a kiss is in order.”
“Go on, man,” Sutcliffe said. “Kiss her. I’m hungry, as are we all.”
Everleigh spun around to find the corridor full of amused guests.
Dandridge, grinning ear to ear, pulled his wife to his side and dropped a quick peck on her temple. Ophelia and Gabriella hugged each other. Nicolette eyed Westfall with a considering look. Jessica, Rayne, and Theadosia beamed at one another like they’d planned the whole affair.
Griffin cupped Everleigh’s chin, gently drawing it upward.
“Happy Christmas, Everleigh.”
And right there in front of everyone, Griffin, Duke of Sheffield gave her a kiss that she nor he nor the other guests would soon forget.
2 September, 1810
Rome, Italy
Everleigh chuckled and shook her head as Claire, her silken ears flapping, raced by in pursuit of the ball Sarah had thrown. Those two never grew tired of that game. The stately Italian villa they’d let for the next month boasted an enclosed courtyard perfect for energetic dogs and almost-four-year-olds.
“Mama, did you see Claire fetch the ball?”
Sarah bent to retrieve the slobbery orb.
“I did, darling.” A feathery fluttering in her belly startled Everleigh. She cradled the small mound with both hands. “Well, hello there, precious. Do you hear your sister and Mama?”
The babe moved again.
“Griffin, the baby is moving! Here, you must feel.”
She pressed his hand to her tummy. Another flicker caused her to giggle, and a goofy grin divided his face.
“Energetic little fellow, isn’t he?” He bent low, murmuring to the small mound. “This is your papa, and he loves you very, very much.”
“This is only the beginning.” She ran her palms over her stomach. “Theadosia said she could see Amber’s entire foot pressed against her belly at times.”
His gaze fell on the simple gold band encircling her ring finger. “I wish you’d let me buy you a proper wedding ring, sweet.”
She held her hand up, admiring the simple ring. “Not a bit of it. I found this in my Christmas pudding after I asked you to marry me. It’s perfect. It was meant to be.”
Actually, nearly everybody found a ring that evening, thanks to Griffin’s sweet-talking the cook. Not everyone was as pleased as Everleigh had been to discover the trinket.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he drew her near. “You forget, I asked you first.”
“Yes, but I turned you down, so it was only fitting that I propose to you, scandalous though it was.”
“How about an emerald ring you could wear with this band then?” He caressed her fingers.
“I suppose, if you insist,” she teased.
He knew her weakness for emeralds.
She rested her head against his chest. Married seven months already. Their wedding trip had been delayed due to Caroline Chatterton’s devious machinations. Somehow, she’d persuaded the local magistrate to open an inquiry into Frederick’s and Arnold’s deaths.
Probably by bedding the dumpling of a man.
Everleigh hadn’t been permitted to leave the country during the investigation, which, after five months, completely exonerated her. Caroline, the fool, hadn’t been as fortunate. Seems she’d been cuckolding Frederick with a not-altogether-too-bright fellow of questionable repute, who had taken her at her word when she said she wished her husband and father-in-law were dead. She’d wanted Everleigh dead too, the fellow had confessed, but he didn’t hold with killing women.
Ironically, Caroline—fortunate to have escaped the hangman’s noose—now sailed for the same penal colony Theadosia’s father pastored. Her former lover hadn’t been as fortunate.
The postponed honeymoon had worked out well in the end. Everleigh had been able to attend Jessica’s and Nicolette’s weddings, as well as the dowager duchess of Sutcliffe’s marriage to Jerome DuBoise.
Griffin was convinced he’d orchestrated that union, but the Duke of Sutcliffe claimed he’d been responsible.
Sarah paused in her romps to trot over to her new governess, Miss Brimble. Nurse had gratefully retired to a comfortable cottage in Bristol, and Miss Brimble, being several generations younger and the oldest of twelve, proved skilled at managing Sarah.
Maya and Jenny—the name Sarah picked for the doll Everleigh made her—sat serenely on the tolerant governess’s lap.
“Let’s go for a walk, my dears.” Sarah gathered her dollies in her arms, and Miss Brimble stood.
Claire, tongue lolling, had plopped herself at Miss Brimble’s feet, but the instant the governess stood, the spaniel leapt to all fours once more.
“Miss Sarah, shall we explore the maze?” She looked to Everleigh for approval, and af
ter receiving a nod, asked, “Shall I hold one of your babies for you?”
Sarah tilted her head and extended both before her, considering them. She passed Miss Brimble Jenny. “Maya needs extra ’tention, so she doesn’t get jealous of Jenny.”
Was that a hint?
Sarah had been ecstatic when Everleigh and Griffin had told her she was going to be a big sister. Her enthusiasm waned considerably when she learned she might have a little brother, and a jot more when told she couldn’t dress the new baby in her dollies’ clothes.
As Sarah and Miss Brimble disappeared into the labyrinth, Everleigh turned into Griffin’s embrace and hugged him.
“I never thought I could be this happy, Griffin. I love you so much, it almost hurts sometimes.” She tilted her head into the crook of his shoulder. “Tell me again when you knew you loved me. I never tire of hearing it.”
He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
“I knew the moment you scooped Sarah into your arms in the drawing room, and my heart stood still for an instant, that I’d found the woman I was meant to spend the rest of my life with.”
Before you go, if you enjoyed A DECEMBER WITH A DUKE please consider leaving a review on Amazon.
USA Today Bestselling, award-winning author, COLLETTE CAMERON pens Scottish and Regency historicals, featuring rogues, rapscallions, rakes, and the intelligent, intrepid damsels who reform them.
Blessed with fantastic fans as well as a compulsive, over-active, and witty Muse who won’t stop whispering new romantic romps in her ear, she lives in Oregon with her mini-dachshunds, though she dreams of living in Scotland part-time.
You’ll always find dogs, birds, occasionally naughty humor, and a dash of inspiration in her sweet-to-spicy timeless romances®.
Her motto for life? You can’t have too much chocolate, too many hugs, too many flowers, or too many books. She’s thinking about adding shoes to that list.
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A December with a Duke: A Regency Romance (Seductive Scoundrels Book 3) Page 9
