A Magical Regency Christmas

by Elizabeth Rolls

  * * *

  In the village, Meredith and Alyson were waiting to drag her away from the group. ‘Mr Waters has a new shipment of ribbons in just for Christmas!’ Alyson exclaimed excitedly, pulling her into the ‘emporium’, the village’s pride and joy.

  The emporium was warm and crowded with shoppers. It was hard not to be sucked into the Christmas spirit. ‘I don’t need any ribbons,’ Catherine protested with a laugh after Alyson’s fifth attempt to get her to purchase a length of dark-green ribbon.

  ‘Yes, you do. You need to meet people. Young men in particular,’ Alyson replied, selecting another length, this one in a blue. ‘It’s been three days and you haven’t met anyone but Lord Richard.’ Alyson made a pouting moue. ‘You’ll never meet anyone if you spend all your time with Finn, always talking about his plants.’

  ‘Well, you never know,’ Catherine answered, reaching for a length of emerald green to distract Alyson and hoping her face didn’t give her away. It was bad enough Alyson had noticed she had been spending time with Finn.

  ‘Oh, that emerald green will look lovely on Christmas day.’ Alyson frowned. ‘But it doesn’t match your gown for the ball. You have to get something to match for tonight too.’ She went back to the length of blue, talking the whole while. Meredith, Catherine noticed, had gone silent and was studying her intently. Did Meredith guess?

  * * *

  Catherine didn’t have to wonder long. She and Meredith were alone outside, waiting for Alyson to finish her business at the milliner’s, when Meredith brought up the subject. ‘Where have you and Finn been sneaking off to? Alyson might not have noticed, but I have. Marcus has. He commented on it last night.’

  Well, Marcus and his powers of intuition could go hang. It certainly put her in a difficult position. She’d confess all to Meredith if there was something to confess. But at this point, she hadn’t any idea what to say. Finn and I have fallen in love? No, she couldn’t say that. It wasn’t true. Was it? Did people fall in love in a matter of days? ‘We went to the barn. I wanted to see Druid and Hamish.’

  Meredith raised a censorious eye brow. ‘That explains the first disappearance. Were Hamish and Druid at the lake too?’

  Catherine felt a moment’s panic. How much had they seen? How many people had noticed them leaving? ‘Finn wanted to show me an early fawn.’

  ‘And?’ Meredith prompted.

  ‘That’s all,’ Catherine bluffed—she hoped it was convincing.

  ‘You looked a bit unnerved a moment ago. Seeing a fawn doesn’t match the reaction.’

  Perhaps it wasn’t Marcus’s powers of intuition she needed to fear. Catherine bit her lip. ‘It’s complicated. I can’t really explain it.’ Not even to herself.

  Meredith’s eyes flashed in triumph, dark eyes like Finn’s. ‘“It” means there’s something then. I thought so,’ she said with an air of mystery.

  Catherine reached out a hand and gripped Meredith’s wrist. ‘Please don’t say anything.’

  Meredith smiled softly and covered Catherine’s hand. ‘Of course I won’t, but you’d better stop keeping secrets. My best friend and my brother. Who would have thought?’

  Catherine shook her head, her words rushing out as she spied Alyson coming out of the store. ‘It might not be anything, Merry. It was only a couple of kisses. They just sort of happened. They don’t have to mean anything.’ Then she blushed, her cheeks hot in spite of the cold. Had she really said that?

  Catherine expected Meredith to tease her. Instead Meredith leaned close and whispered, ‘Don’t disappoint me. You know Finn better than that. Do you really think he does things that have no meaning?’

  She did know Finn better than that, Catherine realised. Perhaps that was what had been bothering her about their kisses. He could say they were a spontaneous venture, but she didn’t believe it because it simply wasn’t his nature. They did mean something, but what exactly? Was that the reason he hadn’t come on the expedition at the last minute? She’d thought it was settled last night.

  * * *

  The thought stayed with her the rest of the day as she picked out little gifts for the family. She had other things packed in her trunk that she’d brought from Paris, but she’d wanted something small to set at their plates for dinner. There were ribbons for Alyson and Meredith, an orange for their father who had a passion for the citrusy fruit and a small, carefully carved chocolate swan for their mother and hers. And that left only Finn. In earlier days, she’d have got him peppermints. But that was before he’d kissed her, before she’d kissed him back and her body had gone all hot and trembly in his arms until all she could think about was him, until all she could want was him.

  Besides, what would he think if she gave him peppermints now? Would he think he had bad breath? She’d never known kissing to be this complicated before. Kissing redefined everything. At least Finn’s kisses did. It was probably noteworthy to point out that Channing’s kiss had not altered the speed with which she’d decided on his gift: the usual pistachios.

  * * *

  It was another hour before she decided on something. By then, the sky was overcast and glowering. Sleighs had come down from the house to carry the merry shoppers home with their packages, but they were gone by the time Catherine arrived at the meeting spot. Only one sleigh remained, a small two-seater with Finn at the ribbons. ‘Where is everyone?’ Catherine looked around, a little nervous. How many people would have noticed this special attention? He’d not come on the excursion, but had driven down specifically for her.

  ‘They’ve gone on ahead. I told them I’d wait for you. Everyone is in a hurry to dress for the ball.’

  He helped her in, his hand strong and firm at her elbow.

  ‘You said you’d come today,’ she said once her packages were stowed safely at her feet and Finn had arranged the lap robe to his satisfaction.

  ‘I had work to do.’ Finn climbed in beside her, his leg resting against hers in the small space. ‘A ball takes a lot of manpower to put together.’

  ‘You work a lot. First, the skating party, now this.’ He had his other work too, always writing articles or working on his research. Who knew what other responsibilities he had regarding the estate? He’d been the responsible one growing up too. It was no surprise he’d turned out this way—so serious, so hard working. ‘Don’t you ever have fun?’

  ‘My work is gratifying. It’s a special source of fun.’ Finn reached for the reins, but Catherine was faster. She snatched them and shouted to the team, slapping the reins on their backs for good measure, ‘Get on!’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Finn raised his voice to be heard over the wind.

  ‘Going for a sleigh ride!’ Catherine called back, tossing him a triumphant look as they sped over the snow. New flakes began to fall, lighting the greying landscape in the magical dusk. It was a thrill of a ride. They sailed over rolling hills, the speed heady and exhilarating. Catherine shot a glance at Finn beside her, his face a study of surprise and then a smile and then a great, loud laugh as they took a snowy corner. The brisk wind hit her face and she gave a shout of pure delight.

  She pulled the horses to a halt near the shelter of the woods, her breath coming out in panting puffs from the excitement. ‘I haven’t driven like that since...since last winter!’

  ‘Last winter?’ Finn sat back in the seat. ‘I suppose I should be thankful this was a regular skill of yours. Where did you learn to drive like that?’

  She let the reins go slack and leaned back with him. She laughed. ‘We have snow in Paris too, you know. My friends and I would have sleighing parties in the Bois de Boulogne outside the city. My great-aunt has a friend who has a château and we’d visit quite a lot if there was snow.’ Catherine gave her hair a toss, swinging it over one shoulder. Finn shifted in his seat.

  ‘Do you miss your friends in Paris?’
>
  ‘I do, but I like being home and being with my parents. My friends and I will write and Paris isn’t so very far these days. I will see them again.’

  ‘Do you mean to go back?’ His dark eyes were serious once more.

  ‘Only to visit.’ She smiled and rapped him on the arm. ‘Are you eager to get rid of me so soon? It’s been three days and already you’re packing me off.’

  ‘No, I’m merely trying to discern your plans.’

  Why? she wanted to ask. Catherine felt as if any false step here would prevent Finn from saying what was on his mind. They were dancing around something here. She kept her answer vague.

  ‘I hadn’t thought of any beyond getting home and celebrating Christmas.’ And marrying Channing and being part of the Deverill clan for ever. That particular plan sounded a bit childish now in retrospect. ‘I’ll help my father with his research, of course. He always needs help organising his material.’ Catherine shrugged. ‘The usual, I suppose. There will be church meetings and ladies’ circles. Perhaps we might go down to London for part of the Season. What about your plans? Do you have any more expeditions planned to the Caribbean?’ She could see him already at the head of an expedition, sailing down uncharted waters, so strong, so alive.

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe. Viscount Wainsbridge would like to have me map a new river for him, but I’m not sure I can get away. There is a lot to do here and Father is relying on me more and more.’ There was a battle waging there. She could see hints of it in his eyes, no matter how blasé he tried to sound. The earldom had long been a conflicted issue for him. It was the conditions that disturbed him the most, the idea that his father would have to pass for him to achieve the ends to which he’d been raised. He was in no hurry to inherit and yet such waiting must be stifling for a man like him. He wanted to do something with his life, not sit around waiting, not when there were new worlds to explore.

  ‘Channing could help while you’re gone.’

  That earned her a stern look. ‘Channing will be in London. He spends most of the year there now with his, ah, new business venture. Besides, I wouldn’t want to miss the girls’ weddings. They’re both bound to be married by this time next year.’

  ‘It’s all right to do something for yourself, to want something just for you, Finn,’ Catherine offered tentatively.

  * * *

  Even if it’s you? She had no idea how utterly beautiful she looked—the picture of health, bright and vibrant against the white of the snow. His body recognised such beauty instantly, although he wished it wouldn’t. Finn shifted once more in his seat. ‘It’s complicated.’ Like our kisses. ‘The balance between duty and desire is not necessarily something that can be explained.’ Again, much like his reaction to her.

  Finn picked up the ribbons. If he didn’t do something soon, he’d end up kissing her again. There was no question of doing more than kiss, not out here in the snow even if he wanted it to be otherwise. It was far too cold to start taking off clothes. He called to the horses, setting them in motion, but another idea had been set in motion. His brain wouldn’t let go of a naughty train of thought—tonight, at the ball, perhaps? It wouldn’t be too cold then and there’d be all sorts of places to sneak off to, all sorts of people not paying attention. It would be one time when it would be good not to have people notice him. While Channing was dazzling everyone, he could be whisking Catherine away to a secluded library.

  To do what? Seduce her? He might be serious, but he wasn’t a monk. He knew very well from first-hand experience what went on in dimly lit libraries at balls when no one was watching. But seduction was just one step away from marriage. Finn knew very well that seducing Catherine could not happen without the benefit of marriage to follow. She was the daughter of an old family friend, his sisters’ best friend and his own friend as well.

  ‘Watch out for the tree!’ Catherine called at the last moment, covering his hands with hers and pulling on the reins. The sleigh swerved around a thin birch tree sticking out of the ground just in time.

  Catherine laughed. ‘What are you thinking about that has taken all your attention?’ She playfully yanked on the reins. ‘Let me drive home and you go right ahead with your thoughts.’

  ‘You might think twice if you knew what they were.’ Finn gave her a wry smile and relinquished the ribbons. It wasn’t often a lovely woman drove him around with her hair hanging down her back, snowflakes tickling her nose. In fact, there’d never been a time that he could recall.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘You’ve been spending a lot of time with Lord Swale.’ Catherine’s mother stroked the brush through her hair and Catherine met her mother’s gaze in the mirror of her dressing table. She wasn’t fooled by the casual tone. Whenever her mother called Finn Lord Swale, something was afoot.

  Catherine shrugged, trying to make light of it. It had been hard enough to explain to Meredith today. She couldn’t imagine making sense of it to her mother. ‘He brought me home from shopping, that’s all.’ There was no need to mention the skating expedition. Her parents hadn’t even been there for it.

  ‘He brought you home considerably later than the other sleighs,’ her mother added.

  ‘I was late. He was kind enough to have waited for me.’ Definitely no need to say anything about racing the sleigh, their quiet talk in the woods or Finn’s disclosure about his future.

  Her mother set aside the brush and met her eyes in the mirror. ‘At the end of the day, he’s a viscount. Some day he’ll be an earl, Catherine, and you’ll still just be you: the daughter of well-respected gentry with a baron for a relative somewhere in the family tree. You’re well born, but not high born, whereas Finn Deverill is both.’ She paused. ‘What I am trying to say is that he can’t marry you. I have it on good authority from the countess herself that they fancy a match between him and Lady Eliza.’

  The daughter of the marquess, someone more suitable for a man of Finn’s station, a viscount waiting to be an earl. Her mother was implying something else too—a warning perhaps that a lord might dally and flirt where he liked without making promises. It was hard to imagine Finn as such a man. Then again, Lady Eliza was here. He’d taken the marquess’s daughter into supper, but he’d been kissing her.

  Was this what he’d meant by the balance of duty and desire? In the woods, she’d thought he’d been talking of the Caribbean and his work versus the responsibilities of the earldom. In reality, he might have been talking about her balanced against his duty to marry well. Family was important to Finn. He would not let them down with an indiscreet match. He’d indicated as much today. It wasn’t in his nature to pick his heart over his head.

  ‘He’s a friend, nothing more.’ Catherine managed a smile even though a small piece of her was breaking inside. Maybe not even a small piece. It might very well be a large piece. Catherine had to concede, her mother’s logic made too much sense. Finn had not once alluded to their kisses beyond calling the first a mistake. He’d made no promises, no claims in words and he wouldn’t. No matter how angry he was over Channing kissing her under the mistletoe ball, he was going to court Lady Eliza Dewhurst of the adequate bosom and the more-than-ample pedigree because it was the right thing to do.

  Her mother kissed her cheek. ‘I don’t want to see you hurt. It’s better to head these things off before they become confusing.’ In other words, before they become dangerous, before the rashness of youth and hot blood took them down a path only one of them could afford to travel. Catherine thought it might be too late for that. Oh, there was no physical damage done. She knew the real damage her mother alluded to. One couldn’t come of age in Paris and not know. But emotions, her emotions, were engaged and she rather thought Finn’s were, too, even if he would deny them.

  ‘Now, darling, we need to get dressed. It won’t do to be late to the ball when we don’t have to go any further than downstairs.’

>   All she had to do was go downstairs? Catherine thought. She might as well go to the moon. Going downstairs was proving to be nearly as difficult. She stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror. Was a dalliance all Finn saw when he looked at her? Did he look at her and see a nice but unsuitable girl? Her mother had meant well with her blunt speech, but now Catherine had to face the opening quadrille with Finn and her newborn doubts.

  No, she wasn’t going to think of it that way. Catherine put her mental foot down. She’d been looking forward to the Yule Ball and she had a beautiful gown she’d been saving for the occasion. She wasn’t going to let a warning about Finn get in the way of that. Forewarned was forearmed. She would dance with Finn and with Channing and with the other young men present and that would be that. Except perhaps with Channing. She’d spent precious little time with Channing today. With her mother’s warning tucked in her mind, tonight might be the perfect opportunity to return more fully to her original intentions.

  The maid came and helped her finish her preparations, fussing with Catherine’s simple hairstyle and helping her slide into the frothy gown of white silk and lace. ‘Oh, miss...’ the girl sighed appreciatively as she tied the wide blue sash about Catherine’s waist ‘...you look an absolute treat. The gentlemen won’t be able to keep their eyes off you!’

  Catherine smiled and studied the gown in the long mirror. The bodice, done en coeur, left her shoulders bare, the delicate fall of lace veed to the centre of her bosom, drawing the viewer’s eye downwards to the tight-fitted waist and the gentle, natural curve of the full skirt over her hips. The skirt would bell out nicely, but not obtrusively, when she danced. The style was simple, but the fabrics were of the finest, the tailoring of the latest preferences from the fall of lace at the bodice draped à la Sevigne to the silk-de-chine scarf she would carry for effect. The ensemble was perfection.