Regency Romances

by Grace Fletcher

  "But how perfectly charming," Delicia said, in a tone that should rightfully have been used upon finding a fly in her soup.

  "Isn't she just?" Layla asked enthusiastically, smiling up at Christina.

  "Well, I only have this to say. If any of you are ever looking to pick a location to have a horrible altercation, I highly recommend the road outside Earl Huxley's castle. His hospitality has almost made up for the trauma of being in such an accident. Thanks to his bravery, I and my family are alive today." Christina said.

  "Hear hear!" One of the lords, a tall young man with a prominent Adam's apple, raised his glass of eggnog and toasted the others. Finishing it in a single gulp, he then asked Christina to dance with him.

  Leading her onto the dancefloor, he introduced himself as Thomas Tummings, Fifth Viscount of Brookville. He was a pleasant enough lad, though a little forward. Christina found herself more than once having to direct his wandering hands back to their proper place. The third time he attempted such a liberty, she found herself losing her patience, and abruptly ended their dance.

  Thomas must have been drunker than he let on, for instead of doing the gentlemanly thing, he instead pulled her closer and whispered, "My dear, you will leave me when I say so."

  Christina, mortified, and not wishing to draw attention to herself, was wondering what she must do next when the earl swooped in. He tapped on Thomas' shoulder, cutting into their dance.

  "You will release the lady." He informed Thomas.

  Thomas stumbled a little, and asked, "Well who says I must? I'm rather enjoying myself, Morgan old chap."

  The earl's chin lifted up, and his eyes narrowed. A spark of temper was ignited.

  "Last warning." The earl said.

  "Oh go to…" before Thomas could finish the sentence, the earl had bodily lifted him up and dragged him out of the room. As horrified gasps rose around them, the earl led the struggling viscount to a basin of water and dunked his head in.

  Cries of horror surrounded the scene, and Christina stood frozen.

  Now she knew exactly where the rumors of Earl Huxley's temper stemmed from. His eyes were raging fires, and his smile was cruel as he subjected the viscount to his humiliation, holding him for far longer than necessary, before letting him go. Then, just as easily as it had appeared, his temper seemed to vanish. He raised his hand to calm the crowd.

  "Never mind, my friends. I was just helping the viscount here wash out his dark thoughts. On with the music!"

  Such was his charisma, such was the allure of the easy smile he gave them, that the crowd simply laughed and began dancing again. The humiliated Thomas slunk away, and Christina stood still on the dance floor, watching the earl.

  With a weary smile, he closed the distance between them and bowed as he asked her to dance. Without waiting for her reply, he took her hand as a waltz started up. Limp in his arms, she let him guide her across the floor, dipping and swirling her in time to the music.

  The others might have thought it only a prank, but she had seen the rage in his eyes at the wayward Thomas, and even now, vestiges of it lingered. It was in the clench of his jaw and the way his brows drew together. For all the gentleness with which he handled her, she knew the power that must lurk in his body, for him to so easily lift up a tall man like Thomas.

  "You, you shouldn't have." She finally managed to stutter.

  "I most certainly would do it again." He retorted.

  "Has anyone ever told you that anger is a sin?" She asked.

  "Ah but I've never claimed to be free of sin." He said. "Indeed I must confess that my innocent face hides many an emotion that others might consider positively devilish."

  Was he… was he flirting with her? Christina just couldn't be sure or if he was merely using humor to turn the conversation to other topics. Despite herself, she continued, "My Lord must be cautious; an indiscriminate anger could distance your best friends from you."

  "I've taken great pains to ensure that my anger only erupts at those who deserve it." He said. "Thomas certainly earned it. By tomorrow, I'm sure he'll come and apologize to you himself."

  "How can you be so calm after a debacle like that?" Christina asked. "You were furious not five minutes ago. You were out of control."

  "On the contrary, my lady, my anger was well controlled." The earl said. "For had it been out of control, I would have killed the man for attempting to force his attentions on you."

  Christina shivered in his arms and looked away. Suddenly, she was very certain of the truth of his words. The earl was a brave man and by all accounts, splendid to his friends and family, but he was also a dangerous man.

  So what would he do to her, if he ever found out?

  Chapter 5

  Delicia's Doubts

  T he music ended, and with a frown, Christina stepped away from the earl. He led her to the sidelines, where his group of friends awaited.

  "I apologize." He said as they walked away from the dance floor. "Your gentle sensibilities were clearly affected by my rash actions."

  "Morgan darling, you're positively incorrigible," Delicia said as he approached the group. She immediately stationed herself next to him and wound a hand through his arm as Christina stepped away. Simultaneously, she shot Christina a glare. "What did you mean by treating Thomas so badly? The poor boy will be absolutely shattered."

  "He needed a lesson in manners." The earl smiled. "I was happy to deliver it."

  "Well, I'm glad you weren't my teacher." Layla quipped, earning a laugh out of the others.

  "Oh!" Delicia said. "I find it absolutely inexcusable that you let your animal instincts act out, Morgan dearest."

  Christina wished she could deliver a lesson in manners herself. She had no right to feel that way, but Delicia's cloyingly sweet voice made the hair stand on her neck. The way she clung to Morgan seemed to bring alive Christina's animal instincts as well. There was nothing she would have liked better than to push the woman away.

  How unnatural for her to be thinking this way! Christina had always had a slight temper herself, but never before had it been provoked so easily. She found herself blinking and focussing on the group as someone said her name.

  "I beg your pardon?" She asked.

  Delicia laughed. "Were you lost in dreams, my lady? Layla only asked if you believed in violence as a means to solving things."

  "Naturally not," Christina said. "I believe what the good book says in that we should turn the other cheek."

  "Of course you do." Delicia mocked. "I suppose you're one of those saintly women who believes in forgiving others no matter what their sins, too."

  "I believe in the power of forgiveness, yes," Christina said, but even as she said it, her conscience pricked at her. How could she talk about forgiveness, when, in fact, she should be begging for it from the man standing in front of her? Not once but twice, he had saved her and yet even now, as she stood in his home as a respected guest, her very presence was a lie. She had betrayed him even before she had met him and caused him great pain. If she had the slightest shred of decency, she would reveal the truth to him.

  She couldn't, because she enjoyed his warm eyes far too much. Having him look fondly at her was like lying in the garden on a day filled with glorious sunshine. She couldn't bear the inevitable rage and the ice that would crust over his gaze when she informed him of her deeds.

  Nevertheless, her conscience goaded her. She had to find a way to get him alone and confess what she had done. Whatever rage he felt then, and no matter how he punished her, she could never forgive herself otherwise.

  Chapter 6

  Layla's Schemes

  U nfortunately for Christina, she soon realized that at least for the duration of the ball, she would be unable to catch the earl alone. Delicia seemed determined to intervene, and more than once, when the earl initiated conversation with Christina, Delicia would interrupt them or draw attention to herself.

  Unwilling to play her games, Christina instead busied herself by maki
ng friends with the rest of the group. As Layla had said, her brother's friends were rather like him in that they were predisposed as serious men of business. However, the festive spirit had rendered them in an unusually good mood, and they were all very friendly with Christina.

  First, there was the earl's closest friend, Sir Henry Carruthers, and his wife, Amelia. The two of them talked at length with Christina about some of Morgan's boyhood exploits. With warm humor, Henry talked of how he had once broken a window at Eton, and how Morgan had gallantly taken the punishment for him.

  "Then there was the time we played hooky to go to the fair in town," Henry said. "We returned at midnight and realized that the Dean was waiting for us. Morgan hatched a scheme where we created a large disturbance by throwing a tin filled with rocks down a stairwell. When the Dean came running to see what the noise was, we took the chance to sneak around the back, crawl through the window, and sneak into bed. By the time he returned, we had looked positively angelic with our blankets pulled up to our chins and eyes closed."

  The earl slapped Henry on the back and roared with laughter at the memory. Henry continued. "But he was a real terror, our Morgan was. When we were just first-year students, he took on three older boys because they were torturing a cat. If you think he was harsh on Thomas, you should have seen their faces after Morgan got done with them! Of course, he took quite a few licks himself."

  "From the cat?" Christina asked chirpily, and the others roared with laughter again. The earl gave her a twinkling smile, and she found her heart beating faster as his eyes locked with hers.

  "Well, enough reminiscing," Delicia said, fanning herself with a hand. "It's becoming far too hot in here. Morgan, can't you show us around your castle? I'm sure I'm not the only one who hasn't been here before."

  The earl smiled. "I'm surely at fault for not inviting you."

  "Oh yes," Delicia said. "You simply haven't let anyone come near you! Why your self-enforced hermitage should be cut short now. It's been a year, after all!"

  Christina's eyes widened. Despite himself, the earl flinched. Clearly, the memory of his broken engagement still haunted him. His other friends looked away, and Christina angrily wondered if Delicia even realized what she had said. One look at her convinced Christina that she clearly did. Delicia was maliciously trying to punish him for ignoring her!

  Determined not to let her hurt him, Christina guided the topic back to the castle.

  "Is it true that it was built four hundred years ago?" She asked. "You must forgive me, but I have heard so many tales about the place, each one more fantastic than the other. Now that I am here to witness the splendor myself, each tale seems tame in comparison."

  Her praise had the rest of the group nodding, and both Layla and the earl seemed very pleased.

  The earl nodded. "Huxley Castle has survived several attacks over the years." He said. "Henry of the Tudors hid here during the War of Roses and survived an assassination attempt. It's just a legend, of course, but they say there's a particular tunnel through which we smuggled arms and soldiers to lead a back-attack that finally defeated the French."

  "Fantastic!" Christina exclaimed. "You must show us where it is." From the corner of her eye, she could see Delicia frowning at once again being ignored. What a horrible woman she was, Christina thought to herself. How could the earl possibly wish to marry her?

  Then again, she was beautiful, and men were often blind to character flaws when beauty was added to the mix. Despite her behavior, the earl seemed willing enough to speak to her as he took them on tour through room after room of the castle.

  Layla linked her arm through Christina, and the two of the fell behind the rest of the group.

  "I don't know what he sees in her," Layla said.

  "Excuse me?" Christina raised an eyebrow.

  "Christina, I must confess that there was an ulterior motive in my insisting you stay behind," Layla said.

  "What's that?" Christina asked.

  "I absolutely despise Delicia," Layla said. "Yet my brother seems to be seriously considering marriage with her; purely, I think, because he feels they are a good match regarding pedigree."

  "Oh, I…" Christina felt her heart sink. If that was what the earl actually believed, he should feel free to marry Delicia. Yet she wished he would have chosen anyone else. It was apparent to her that Delicia would make a most malicious wife. The earl deserved better.

  "Do you remember what happened when he rescued you?" Layla asked.

  Christina shook her head. The details were a blank to her. She had been so exhausted after stumbling on the cottage, she hadn't been able to think at all. She'd just fainted.

  "Well, when you fainted at the cottage, he made sure to wrap you in blankets, and then rode to the scene of the accident. He somehow managed to rescue the horses and place your aunt, uncle, and the coachman on them. He then attached his own horse, Blinker, to the coach's horses, and sent them on to the castle." Layla said.

  "Very brave of him, considering the storm," Christina said. "Your brother is truly a hero."

  "That he is, but then he did something even more unusual," Layla said. "He went back to the cottage and saw that despite the blankets, you were turning blue. Panicking, he thought that the only way to save you was to get you back to the castle." Layla paused. "He picked you up, and carried you all the way back to the castle."

  Christina blinked, as the full measure of his heroism hit her. He'd run through a storm, with her on his back. He'd risked his own life to save a woman he'd never met.

  "The way he looked at you afterward..." Layla sighed. "I know you must think I'm most forward, but I have never seen him look so scared. I believed at the time that it was something he'd do for anyone, just a mark of his heroism, but then he got angry later as he remembered you running to the cottage through the storm. That's when I realized, he was feeling protective of you."

  Christina didn't know what to say.

  "I think my brother is very fond of you," Layla said. "I hope you don't believe me too forward, but I like you too. Far more than I like Delicia, at any rate."

  "Layla," Christina said gently, wanting to stop this before it reached its conclusion. "Layla, your brother is a grown man. He must choose his own bride. You cannot expect to throw us together one weekend and have him fall in love with me."

  "But it's Christmas!" Layla protested. "It's a magical time of the year. Besides, I can…"

  "You must stop attempting to matchmake," Christina said. "Promise me that?"

  "I won't." Layla stuck out her bottom lip. "You two would be magnificent together."

  "But you have no reason to believe that," Christina said. "Why, you've barely met me yourself. What if I turned out to be... unbecoming? What if I were far worse than Delicia?"

  "You? Impossible." Layla said. "I'm a good judge of people, and I've talked to your aunt and uncle too. By all accounts, you seem like the gentle, honorable wife that my brother needs."

  "It's out of the question!" Christina exclaimed.

  "Why?" Layla asked. "Do you dislike my brother?"

  "I... I couldn't dislike him. He's saved my life." Christina said. "But..."

  "Do you feel he is not your equal in rank?" Layla quizzed.

  "Of course not," Christina said.

  "Is it his character, then?" Layla asked. "Do you believe his short temper is an indication that he is a brute or otherwise morally deficient?"

  "No!" Christina exclaimed. "From whatever I have seen your brother is the most honorable and brave man I know."

  "Ah." Layla gave her a triumphant smile. "Then what objection could you possibly have?"

  "The defect is with me," Christina said, struggling to find the right words. "I am not worthy of your brother, nor do I have any intention of being his bride."

  Layla waved that aside with a laugh. "If that's what you believe, I'm all the more inclined to think I'm right in my matchmaking efforts. You're far too modest, Christina. Surely you must have noticed how ev
en in my secondhand clothes, you shone fairer and brighter than the richest and fairest in the land. Every eye was on you, not just for how you look, but due to the grace with which you carry yourself."

  Christina shook her head, the praise felt unbearable, as heavy as her conscience felt. "Your brother would never love me." She said. "Layla, I'm begging you. Don't even think of this ridiculous scheme any further. Let your brother be with who ever he chooses."

  "Oh, it will certainly be his doing." Layla laughed. "It's just that to my mind, between you and Delicia, there's only one right choice!"

  Chapter 7

  Christmas Morning

  W hen she woke up that morning, Christina lay in her bed for a moment before rising up and pulling the curtains apart. The storm that had been raging for the last few days had now subsided, and the sun shone in a powder-blue sky scattered with fluffy clouds. On the ground, the guests' children shrieked and laughed as they plowed through the snow, threw snowballs at each other and built snowmen. Christina dressed quickly, determined to join them if she could.

  As she got out of bed, she heard the patter and click of claws as someone ran across the hall. Opening her door, she was greeted by a dog she recognized. He had been at the cottage with the earl, the day the earl saved her life.

  "Hello there." She smiled down at him.

  With a woof, he wagged his tail and dropped a stick at her feet. She recognized it as a holly branch and wondered if he'd been stealing decorations. Branch in hand, she peered out into the corridor, where the butler, along with a trio of maids, was hurrying about.

  As they caught sight of her, they bowed as one and informed her that breakfast would be served in ten minutes downstairs. A banquet for all the guests.