His Christmas Angel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 8)

by Mathews, Marly

  “Maybe I will go with you two, and if Cassius wants to, he can tag along too. Cyril will be home for Christmas shortly, and then, we can really start to have a bit of a jolly.”

  Cassius sighed. “I don’t have anything else to do. If I go home, Mama will continue to hound me about courting Lady Dorothy, and I don’t want to. I can’t abide the girl. She is dreadful. Her voice…oh, how it sets my teeth on edge, it so high pitched,” he shuddered, and took a swig of his drink.

  “She is a lot like Lady Doris,” Clarence said, curling his lip. “Stay far away from her, if you can help it, Cass. Let some other poor bugger marry her. As a wife, she would be a load of mischief that wouldn’t be any fun at all.”

  “Don’t take a wife, mate. It’s a trap,” Tiny said.

  Cass laughed. “Alas, I have to marry and procure an heir. Mama shan’t rest until I do my duty and produce some progeny. I just wish we didn’t have to leave Town for Christmas. Our country Estate is a little too close to Lady Dorothy’s father’s country escape. Clarence, are you retiring to the Country for Christmas or will you and your family remain here in Town?” Lucky asked.

  “I don’t know. Pop hasn’t said. Last Christmas we all spent it at Kenilworth Park, and that was jolly good fun. This Christmas, I am not entirely certain what plans shall be made. I think we will probably go to Kenilworth again, as the twins are hard to move about, and little Harry is a good traveler. I am more interested in knowing where Felix and Gil are going to sped Christmastide.”

  “He is eager to be rid of us, Tiny,” Lucky joked.

  “No…no, that isn’t it,” Clarence rushed out. “I like having the two of you about, I was just wondering…you two could come with us to Kenilworth…”

  “Freddie, Micah and Lewis want us to come and see them in Wiltshire. And a Christmas in Wiltshire does sound appealing—it’s bound to be jolly good fun. I haven’t bought any houses yet because I bloody well don’t know where to settle,” Lucky sighed heavily. “It is all rather confusing for a simple bloke like me. Having the options we have now—the money—I never thought I would be able to afford a palatial home in the Country. It is still rather unbelievable.”

  Tiny nodded his head in agreement. “Our friends are all over the place, now…well, most of our mates are still in Wiltshire, I grant you, but we still miss you and the Colonel, Clarence. We have mended Lucky’s broken heart pretty well, but yours is a real challenge, Clarence, mate. I don’t think you’re ever going to get over Lady Ann.”

  “I don’t want to get over her,” he said, sighing. “That is the problem—you see, I can’t get over her. You fancied Miss Ruby Massey, Lucky, but you didn’t feel about her, the way I feel about Lady Ann. If you did…no amount of whoring could mend your broken heart.”

  “I will give you that one. Miss Massey was a pretty little thing, and I got above myself thinking she could give me the time of day. I thought…I thought that maybe since I had become a baron, people would forget where I came from—but they won’t ever forget the circumstances of my birth. I am not part of this glittering world of the Beau Monde,” Lucky said, gesturing to the finery that surrounded him, “And no amount of pretending or attempting to mimic your accent, Clarence, will make it so. So I think I should just stop trying.”

  “I think you are doing a bloody good job of it, Gil. You have started to sound eerily like me. Mama commented on it just the other day. She said, that if she didn’t know better, you could pass as another brother to me and Cyril.”

  “I couldn’t,” Tiny said, with his familiar broad grin. “I am too much of a bastard—oh, wait, I do beg your pardon—I am an arsehole, and rather proud of it.”

  They all chuckled.

  “Lord Prescott, you could always pursue Lady Dorothy Bouverie, she is on the hunt for a lord with money, and you certainly pass muster,” Cass suggested.

  “I think I shall allow that little lady to set her sights on another lucky lord, sir,” Lucky said. “She…she doesn’t interest me, and her father looks like God’s revenge against murder whenever he stares at me. No…I rather think that would be like going rabbit hunting with a dead ferret. Now, maybe Clarence could pursue her, and make a certain little maiden jealous.”

  Clarence was about to respond, when his butler came rushing into the room. He looked quite flustered, and he was always such a composed and stoic fellow. His face was red, and his eyes were wide, all in all, he seemed quite out of sorts, and it alarmed him to see him in such a state.

  “My lord, we have a guest, and she wants to see you alone. The lady is quite distressed. I am worried she might faint.”

  “The lady?” Clarence said, standing up. Lucky, Tiny and Cassius had also jumped to their feet.

  “Lady Ann Hardwicke. I showed her to the Library, and there she waits.”

  The Library. Ann was in the Library. His Ann.

  Clarence’s mind whirled at a breakneck pace. Feeling a little weak in the knees, he quickly sat back down, he felt drained.

  “I think he’s going to be sick,” Lucky mused.

  “Fetch a bucket,” Tiny quipped. “Buck up, mate,” Tiny said, worry creasing his brow. “She is a lady, how scary can she be?”

  “You would be surprised,” Cass snorted. “Some ladies have me shaking in my boots.”

  Clarence let out a shuddering laugh. “Tiny, you have met Lady Ann, she isn’t scary at all.”

  “And yet, she intimidates you,” Tiny pointed out.

  “Only because I am going to stumble over my tongue in my dealings with her.”

  “You won’t. Stay confident. You are not a callow youth anymore, Clarence. You are a man. A man that can take on the world. And the part of the world that she lives in, is also your world. You are not like Lucky and I…you’re not attempting to fit into a world that you weren’t born into, because you no longer fit into the world you come from. So, get yourself up, and take your arse down to the Library, and meet the woman of your dreams face to face. Act like a lord, and all that tosh.”

  Clarence stood back up, and pulled his waistcoat down, suddenly feeling full of purpose, as if he could take on the world. Nodding at Lucky and Tiny, he walked out of the room toward the Library. He didn’t know how he would handle seeing Ann. They hadn’t seen much of each other since they had both returned to London from the Country. He hadn’t seen her at any social events for the past fortnight, and it worried him dreadfully.

  A footman opened the Library door for Clarence, and he took a moment to gaze at her without her knowledge.

  She looked so fragile. So vulnerable. He wished her could take her into his arms, and kiss all of her worries away.

  Her strawberry blond hair commanded his gaze, just as it always did. Ringlets framed her face, and one kept falling down right in the middle of her forehead, and he watched her blow it out of her face, the huffing noise when she blew it out of her face was really quite endearing. How he would love to see it flowing down around her shoulders, loosed from the pins that held it in an upswept hairdo. It struck him odd that she wasn’t wearing a hat or gloves, and it still looked as if she wore her morning dress. Quite odd, indeed. Ann was usually such a stickler for the rules. She was the epitome of propriety. To think she had come calling on him without wearing a hat or a bonnet, or gloves for that matter.

  Something was off. Something wasn’t right. He took a tentative step into the room, and she must have heard him, because she turned to settle her perceptive brown eyes on him.

  As he drew closer, he realized with a sinking heart that she had been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she held a handkerchief clasped tightly in her hands. Her eyes were filled with grief. Her hair wasn’t as tidy as it should it have been. All in all, she looked an absolute wreck, and yet, to him, she was still beautiful. She would never fail to take his breath away with her loveliness.

  He wanted to hold her and give her comfort. Instead, he settled on a chair opposite to the sofa that she sat on, and quite uncomfortably crossed his legs
. He had to maintain his composure.

  “Good afternoon, Ann,” he said, attempting to keep emotion out of his voice. Afternoon? It was nearly evening, and not at all a proper time for her to be calling on him. “To what do I owe this honour of this visit?”

  “I…I had to see you, Clarence,” she said, her voice filled with the emotion he was trying so hard to contain. “I had nowhere else to turn. You are…you are the only man that can save me.” She was quite breathless. It told him that she was trying her best to force the words out of her mouth without losing her composure. His heart went out to her.

  Save her? Save her from what?

  He uncrossed his legs, and sat forward, using all of his willpower to keep from moving to set next to her.

  “Whatever is the matter, Ann? You look quite upset.” He might as well not bandy about the bush, and see exactly what had put her into such a desperate mood.

  “He is going to sell me off, Clarence,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and suddenly avoiding his gaze.

  Indignation welled within him. Sell her off? Over his dead body.

  “Who…who is going to sell you off?” he demanded angrily. He had a wager it was her father. The man was a bad egg, if ever there was one. He gambled far too much. He had heard the man had lost thousands of pounds recently in one of the more undesirable gaming hells.

  “My father…he has…he has made some terrible choices, Clarence, and now I shall have to pay the piper.”

  “Rubbish,” he said. “That is utter rot. You shall do no such thing. Now, dry your tears, and tell me everything, Ann.” How could he remain so calm? He felt anything but, on the inside. Somehow, he sensed that she needed him to be strong. She needed him to be her rock.

  “I...I can’t do it, Clarence. I won’t be sold off like a piece of property, especially not to that horrid man.”

  “Of course you won’t be. You are not a piece of property, Ann. You are your own independent person. You are not chattel. Who…who has put such a ridiculous notion in your head?”

  “My father. He says I must do my duty as his daughter, and by doing my duty, I must heed his every whim and fancy, and he wants me to…” her voice broke, she looked as if she was going to start sobbing, “It seems, Clarence…it seems my father has lost almost everything to Sir Wilfrid Culpepper, and the only way to keep what he has left, is to marry me off to that vile beast. Sir Wilfrid told him he wanted me—and that he would do anything to possess me.”

  Rage simmered within Clarence. Devil take Sir Wilfrid. Clarence wanted to see Ann’s father pay for doing such a reprehensible thing.

  “That bastard? No. You can’t marry him, Ann.” Of course, as far as Clarence was concerned, she couldn’t marry anyone but him. He wanted her so desperately, he would do anything to have her as his wife. Anything at all.

  “I…I have no other options. I am in a Point Non Plus…unless…unless, you would marry me, Clarence.” Her voice wavered on, marry me, and he swallowed thickly. He didn’t want her fearing marriage to him, the way she feared marriage to Culpepper.

  Good God. His dreams were all coming true. He needed to pinch himself. He blinked a few times, attempting to deduce if what he had just heard was real.

  “Did…did you just ask me to marry you?” he asked softly, not quite able to believe his ears.

  “Aye,” she said, turning a bright scarlet. “I need another man’s protection, and if you won’t marry me because I have been so terrible to you—I understand, Clarence. I have been an utter wretch to you, and my behaviour toward you has been quite unforgivable, and I am so very sorry for it. I shall never be able to atone for it, but I swear to you, I shall try.”

  So that was it.

  She wanted him to marry her so she could avoid the match her father had made for her. He couldn’t blame her, really. He wouldn’t want to marry someone his father picked out for him, although, he bet his father would pick someone a bit better than the female equivalent of Sir Wilfrid.

  She had said she needed a man’s protection. Finally, she regarded him as a man—not a boy. Relief flooded through him, and he found himself grinning like the besotted fool he was.

  She took a deep shaky breath, and continued, “I am unworthy of you, Clarence. I know that. I know that you might have found another lady to focus your attentions upon. But I always knew I wasn’t good enough for you. I knew that from the first moment you started to pursue me. I am too old for you, and I am certainly not pretty enough for you—but, but I am rather fond of you when it comes right down to it, and I think you and I would make a good match. We are good friends aren’t we? There is one caveat that might make me undesirable. And I understand if you don’t want me because of it. I have no dowry. I come to you without anything of real value to my name.

  “Indeed, I fled the house as you see me in this sorry state, because I didn’t want to take the time to change. I didn’t want to take any more that I had to of the things my father had bought for me. I am not going back, you see. I never want to see my papa again. I don’t ever want to clap eyes on him again.” She was talking in a hurried way, and repeating herself, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t get enough of listening to her, and staring at her. Oh, how he adored her. “So you see, Clarence, if you turn me away, I shan’t know where I will go. I shall be quite desperate. All of my relatives will tell me to do my duty as a dutiful daughter should, and I don’t want to, Clarence, I don’t want to. I don’t want to be dutiful…at least not with Sir Wilfrid. I…uh, that is to say…” Her cheeks were now a burning scarlet, and she had red splotches on her neck, and they disappeared under her chemisette. “I…I would do my wifely duties with you, Clarence. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t turn you away. I…I just won’t become a virgin sacrifice to Culpepper, I fear that would be a fate worse than death. I have heard terrible whisperings of what he is like with women. They say awfully revolting things, and I realize quite keenly that I wasn’t supposed to be listening when I heard what I heard…but Clarence…I won’t share a life and a bed with that frightful man. With you—with you, I know things would be different. I know you would not be beastly to me. I do not think I would be tempted to shirk my duties as your wife.”

  Tempted to shirk her duties? If he had his way, she wouldn’t want to leave his bed—ever.

  She was awkwardly attempting to convince him to marry her, and yet, he was already convinced. He would marry her within the hour, if it was possible. He didn’t need to hear any of her reasons for why she wanted him. He didn’t have to be persuaded. He wanted her—he didn’t care if she wanted him as much as he desired her, and maybe…maybe he should, maybe he should want more from her. Here she was offering herself on a silver platter to him, and all he could think was to remain calm, and not look too eager.

  Impulsively, and so much out of character for her, it took his breath away, Ann jumped off the sofa, and came over to him. Lowering herself to her knees, she looked up at him with her wide warm brown eyes, filled with fear and longing. She reached for his hands, and leaned onto his lap with most of her upper body. This was definitely not proper—at all.

  He lost himself in that beautiful gaze of hers. Her eyes were brimming tears, and he wanted to make all of it better for her. “I will do anything, Clarence,” she said, her voice breathless. The intoxicating sound of it made his gut twist. He had to remain calm. He couldn’t react as passionately as he wanted. “Please, Clarence, say I don’t have to go back there. Say that you will have me. Say that you will give me shelter from the storm. I am throwing myself on your mercy. Tell me what you want me to do, and I shall do it. You order and I will obey.”

  He had everything he had ever wanted. Everything he had ever desired. She was his. All he had to do was accept her.

  Still, he didn’t like seeing her so lowered. He didn’t like seeing her so desperate.

  He pulled away from her, and she looked bereft until he reached for her small delicate hands, and held them beneath his, finally coming out of love’s
drunken stupor, he felt her hands and realized that she was far too cold. “Why, Ann, you are frozen. You are chilled right down to the bone. You will catch your death. Come, and let us move closer to the fire, so you can warm yourself.”

  “If I did catch my death, it wouldn’t matter. Not if you won’t have me. Life will no longer be worth living.”

  He stood up, gently lifting her to her feet. He wrapped his arm protectively around her and brought her closer to the crackling fire. They stood there for a few moments until he was satisfied that she was warm enough. Leaving her in the chair that he had vacated, as it was closer to the fire, he went and told the footman to have the Cook prepare some hot chocolate and to bring some shortbread to them. The time had passed so quickly that he almost forgot just how close they were to Christmastide. He would have his greatest wish for Christmas, praise God.

  He would finally have his Christmas Angel.

  Chapter Three

  Clarence shut the doors to the Library once the footman had left, and turned back to silently regard Ann.

  He hoped she would not notice him staring. She sat in his chair, with her shoulders slumped, obviously believing that she had come to him on a fool’s errand. How could she think that he would refuse her anything that she wanted of him? He was her servant. He could deny her nothing. He had always been ready to give her whatever she wanted and yet, she didn’t seem to realize that. Had she not realized how doggedly he had pursued her? Had she not seen the ardor in his eyes whenever they had been near one another? Hadn’t she felt it when he’d held her in his arms, and swept her out onto the dance floor? Granted, some of the dances had been of the less scandalous variety, but he had always engaged her whenever it was a dance where they would be in close proximity to each other. Even if it was just a passing caress, he coveted those particular sets.

  “Ann,” he said softly. She lifted her head, to look over at him. He didn’t care if she wasn’t in love with him. He would woo her as his wife, and make her fall in love with him. The only way to keep her from that sodding bastard was to marry her. She was right. There was no other way. He would have to go and fetch a special license, and they would have to be married quietly, and without any fanfare. He would gather what family and friends he had in London, and they could be married here at Evesham House, without delay, as soon as he could enlist a vicar to perform the ceremony.