His Christmas Angel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 8)

by Mathews, Marly

  “Yes,” she said, hesitantly moving to the door. She stopped just shy of opening it up, and stood listening to whatever else he had to say.

  He sighed heavily. “I…I wanted to see you before I went off to have a ride in Hyde Park.”

  “I…well, we shall see each other when you return.” She was about to turn around, thinking that was the end of it when she heard him clear his throat nervously. He obviously wasn’t done. He had more to say, and she wasn’t entirely certain she was ready to hear it.

  “I had something I wanted to give you. And you shall need it before the ceremony.”

  She hesitated, and then relented. He would keep beseeching her until she gave in. Sighing, she walked over to her escritoire, and retrieved the key. Walking back over to the door, she slid the key into the lock, and unlocked it. Opening the door, she was met with his pleasant visage. He smiled at her, and winked. He held a box that looked as if it contained jewelry. Her heart raced with excitement.

  Handing it to her, she opened it up, and settled her gaze on a parure of emeralds and diamonds. Oh, what startling beauty. She had never seen anything so exquisite before in her life. It was a gift fit for Queen. She licked her lips. This was a fine gift. Finer than anything she had ever been given before. She felt a little faint. She couldn’t fathom how much it had cost him. Indeed, it was a treasure. A treasure she would cherish for the rest of her life. She felt a little teary eyed over it all. He truly did love her, and he had such a generous soul.

  “I heard that you liked emeralds…and they are from Garrard,” he said softly. Her eyes settled on the beautiful and rather large earrings that matched the necklace. She had always loved earrings. Then, she swept her gaze over the matching tiara, the two bracelets, the brooch, the ring and a stomacher. She let out a heavenly sigh. She felt lavished, both with love and with treasures. Her mother had never received such a fine gift from her father—he had been far too tight with his money. “And now,” he continued softly,”…well, now you shall have something to wear to all of the balls we shall be invited to, not to mention, if we go to the Ballet or Opera. Grandmamma loves her Opera—and she is bound to invite us to come with her at some point in time.”

  “Oh, thank you, Clarence. Thank you so much. This is…this is so lovely. They will always remind me of your beautiful eyes. I always wanted blue or green eyes, and instead, I got stuck with plain old brown,” she said, her voice breaking up, and she could feel her eyes welling with tears. “I…I can’t ever give you such a fine gift in return,” she whispered. “I have nothing for you, and I am not entirely certain I should accept this grand gift. You have already done so much for me. You have given me the world just by saying you would marry me. I should be giving you grand gifts. Not the other way around.”

  He smiled tenderly at her. “You should have given me the chance to ask you. I…I would rather not have anyone else know that you asked me, Ann. It’s just not fitting for a woman to ask a man. As for the parure, I…I have always liked to give gifts. As you are about to become my Countess, this is a gift befitting of the occasion. Besides, I like seeing the recipient’s expression when they open their presents, and seeing your delighted expression just now, has given me extreme joy. And I love your beautiful brown eyes. There is nothing plain, or old about them. They are so dark, and so inviting. They certainly captured my interest. They are spellbinding, Ann.”

  “My mama used to tell me that. She said I could entreat the bitterest of hearts with just one stare. Alas, it didn’t work with my hardhearted father. I do not deserve you, Clarence,” she said softly. “You are too good for me.” There was a reason so many other ladies around his age had pursued him relentlessly. They had seen that he was a gem and coveted that part of him.

  “I can say the same thing about you,” he countered.

  “No.” She carefully closed the lid on the parure, and walked back into her bedchamber to put it on her dressing table. He had followed her into her bedchamber. She sighed. “You are wrong in that assumption, my lord. I…oh, Clarence, I come to you as a pauper—and well, as I have said before—I do not deserve you—I couldn’t have wished for anything better, but I have done nothing to deserve you. You are the kindest, most generous, loving man I have ever known. I…I never dreamt that someone like you existed and yet, here you are. I…I can’t ever…I certainly do not deserve someone like you.”

  “I suppose we shall agree to disagree on that point. But there was one thing I must ask of you—at the urging of both of my parents.”

  She met his gaze, without looking away. Fear galloped through her. “Yes, Clarence?” Oh, dear God, let it be something she could give him.

  “If I can’t have your love—yet, then, I want your loyalty. I know it should go without saying that I will have it, but I wanted to hear you give it to me privately without anyone present. I need to hear it, Ann. I hope you understand.”

  Her heart broke. She couldn’t give him her love. She had never loved anyone before not that way, and while she was fond of him, she didn’t think it equated to the kind of love he felt for her. Thinking she was continuing to disappoint him so, made her feel absolutely wretched. She had become accustomed to that low feeling in the days since she had come to live with Clarence, and she didn’t think it would abandon her after they were made man and wife.

  “I…I will always be faithful to you, Clarence. There will never be another man.”

  “No…that isn’t what I meant. I know you wouldn’t do that, Ann. You are not that kind of a woman—what I meant…what I meant is that you will be loyal to me. My parents, they are a united front—they always have been. They never speak ill of each other in public…”

  Wisely, she remained quiet. Gossip about his father’s affairs had been bandied about for years. She didn’t think mentioning them right now would be appropriate.

  She reached for his hands. “I will be loyal to you, Clarence, and only you…forsaking all others,” she said softly. “We shall be united, and no one will ever be able to divide us. No man or woman, no member of our families, no one,” she said fervently. “I will adore you, Clarence. I will put you up on a pedestal. You will see. So help me God, you will see.”

  His eyes filled with intense emotion. “Thank you,” he rasped, lifting her hands to his lips, he brushed them lightly across her knuckles. She inhaled a sharp breath, as his lips touched her skin. “And now I part from you. Tiny, Lucky and I are going to go riding. Cassius said he might meet up with us in the Park. Are you quite certain you don’t want to come with us? We could have the barouche readied.”

  “I don’t want to leave the house, Clarence. I feel safe here.”

  “I shan’t be gone for long, Ann. And you will be safe here. The servants have been instructed not to allow anyone else into the house save for members of my family. The footman shan’t allow your father past the front door. They are brawny fellows, well suited for that task. The next time I touch you, will be the kiss that will seal our union and then, of course, we have tonight.” He winked devilishly at her, and she felt a thrill.

  Her father might have tried to ruin her spirit and destroy her happiness, but it would be Clarence who would ruin her for all other men, for she didn’t think a better man walked God’s green Earth.

  She was blessed beyond compare.

  *****

  Clarence loved a good ride on Rotten Row.

  If only Ann had agreed to come with them. He watched as Lucky and Tiny admired all of the ladies riding up and down the Avenue. Cassius waved to them, and rode toward them. Clarence smiled, and then stiffened in his saddle, his eyes descending upon Ann’s father.

  Good God, why did he have to show his pugnacious face?

  “Look sharp, mates, Ann’s father is riding straight for us,” he said, as Cass drew up alongside them.

  Lucky and Tiny grinned. “We didn’t think we would find a fight on your wedding day, Clarence. But fortune has smiled upon us. We have been blessed. Why rush away? We should give
the old boy exactly what he wants…if he is begging for a fight…why not give it to him? I, for one, would love a good little brawl.”

  He chuckled. “I do not think that Lord Broadway fights the way you two like to fight.”

  “Aye,” Tiny said, curling his lip. “He probably fights dirty. He looks like a real bloody toff. If you want, Clarence, I could make sure he had an accident, it would be no trouble at all.”

  “No, Tiny. But thank you for the offer.”

  Tiny nodded his head at him, and winked. “We’ll always have your back, mate.”

  He groaned. Lord Broadway rode up to them, looking every bit the part of an inflated arse. The landau the Hardwicke Family usually rode in had been absent from Rotten Row for the last few days. Either they had sold it—or his wife refused to ride with him. Today, he rode with his son, James, Viscount Moreton.

  “So have you finally come to your senses, pup? Have you decided to return my daughter to me? She isn’t yours, you know. She will never be yours. That little chit, is a faithless little bitch and the only person she is faithful to, is herself. You do not want that kind of trouble. Give her back to me and let her be my burden to carry. She’s a rotten piece of work that needs a strong hand to tame her, and Sir Wilfrid shall be able to take her into hand. He will beat the spirit right out of her.”

  James nodded his pugnacious head, and gave them a preening smile.

  “Want me to break their bloody big fat heads?” Tiny asked.

  “Tiny,” Lucky warned.

  “What? They do have big heads. Look at them. Their heads are almost too big for their skinny little bodies. It’s a like a great big pimple on their shoulders. I could pop those pimples. It might make a bit of a mess though.”

  “Keep your guard dogs firmly on the lead, Lord Evesham,” Broadway said, looking a little warily at Tiny and Lucky. “I hope Ann realizes how low she has fallen. You Devilles, and your blasted relatives, the Lovetts, surround yourselves with mangy dogs—bloody rabble, that is what Lord Spaulding and Lord Prescott are. That one strapper there, is definitely a whoreson. I expect his mother was one experienced strumpet, and both of them are certainly beneath my touch.”

  He heard Tiny growl, and Lucky looked as if he wanted to blow Lord Broadway to kingdom come.

  “Zounds, just let me have a few minutes along with this bloody toff, and I will soon sort him out,” Tiny said. “Gadzooks, so help me, I will.”

  “That’s the best you could come up with? Why didn’t you use odds bodkins, too?” Lucky hissed.

  Lord Broadway looked a little frightened at the prospect of Tiny’s threat. Clarence sighed, he wanted desperately to give Felix what he wanted, but at this point, he just wanted the scene Lord Broadway was causing to come to an end, people were starting to stop and stare at them.

  “Lady Ann isn’t your daughter anymore, Lord Broadway. You do not deserve such a treasure. After today, she will be my wife. You will have to find another way to settle your debts, sir. Maybe…maybe Sir Wilfrid would take one of your other properties as a settlement—or…” he paused, “or you could always give him Lord Moreton.” He tipped his hat at them, before he turned his horse around, and rode back to Evesham House, with Tiny and Lucky by his side.

  Even if he wasn’t madly deeply in love with Ann, there was no way in hell, he would let her go back to living under that bloody bastard’s roof.

  No…Ann was stuck with him—for better or for worse.

  *****

  Ann now sat in the Library, attempting to read a book of poetry, but she couldn’t seem to focus long enough to take anything in. Clarence had gone out riding, and when he returned, they would dress and await the vicar. Her nerves were so frayed, she dropped her book when a footman opened the door, and announced the Dowager Duchess of Alton, and Lady Christopher, Colonel Elliot’s stepmother.

  She quickly stood up, and curtsied, while her heart raced faster than the ponies did at the Royal Ascot. Locking gazes with Clarence’s imposing grandmother, she felt a bit faint. The woman was Italian, and known throughout the ton as being one formidable lady that one didn’t want to cross—and those who did, rued it bitterly. She didn’t have to worry about Lady Christopher. Lady Christopher blended in with her surroundings pretty nicely, and was so sweet that she never said a cross word to anyone. She had become the Dowager Duchess’s companion, and usually could be found at her side whenever she went out and about.

  The Dowager Duchess wore her widow weeds, and she was draped in sparkling black onyx. Lady Christopher also wore black, but didn’t sparkle quite as much.

  “Well, Lady Ann, I see you haven’t changed much since last we saw each other. You look none the worse for wear, despite what your father has put you through. And…I suppose you are still intent upon marrying my Clarence?”

  She swallowed thickly, and wordlessly, she nodded her head. Fear clutched at her being. She couldn’t think of how she was to receive her. Nothing could prepare her for this meeting. Oh, how she wished that Clarence had stayed home. Maybe she should have accompanied him after all. She imagined he was having a far better time than she was presently.

  “Hmm…well, in that case, I suppose the two of us should exchange a few more pleasantries, and then get down to business, as most know I am not a woman to mince words.”

  To what did the Dowager Duchess refer? If she thought she was nervous before, it couldn’t possibly compete with how she felt now. She had always been slightly intimidated by the Dowager Duchess.

  Francesca Deville was a woman she could only hope to someday be like. No one gave her any grief, and everyone ran to do whatever she bid. Ann felt as if she was quaking in her slippers. She must look an absolute wreck.

  “You look quite lovely, Lady Ann, but I hope that isn’t the frock you intend to be wed in?”

  “No,” she stammered nervously.

  “Good. Clarence deserves a lovely bride, and right now, in that drab little frock, you don’t exactly pass muster.”

  Ann’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. Oh, God, how long would she have to endure this?

  “I am sorry,” she said, avoiding Francesca’s gaze.

  “Well, you shan’t be hard to deal with,” she sighed mournfully, as if Ann’s ability to submit was a bad thing. “You have no spunk. You have no fire. There isn’t anything corky about you. Your backbone has no pluck to it. You are rather soft. You bend far too easily, and I can’t say I like that sort. I could probably tell you to depart Evesham House and never come back, and you would do it,” Francesca mused thoughtfully.

  “No, I wouldn’t,” she whispered, a little more forcefully than she had intended, even though her voice wobbled like a boy’s voice did as he grew into a man.

  “Eh? What was that you said?” Francesca asked, cupping her hand to her ear.

  “I said…no, I wouldn’t, Your Grace,” wincing, as her voice continued to tremble.

  Francesca eyed her with a bit of a sparkle dancing in her dark eyes. “Unless my ears betrayed me, it sounded suspiciously as if you just said no. Did you have to summon all of your courage to give me that weak rebuttal, my dear?”

  “Yes,” she said, without thinking.

  “I thought as much,” she sighed heavily. “You need to get a bit more pluck to your backbone, lass. If you don’t, it won’t be much fun for me, will it? Marietta, now, she knows how to give me a bit of sport. She is a bit of a challenge. She is only slightly afraid of me—you—well, you are near to shaking, and I can’t give you a hard time, if I think you are scared to death. Even I am not that heartless. I do not prey upon the weak. However…if you were strong enough to disobey your father, and turn your back on all you knew—there might be hope for you yet.

  “I…I sympathize with your plight, Lady Ann. I married for love, you see. I probably disappointed my parents, although, they never cared one way or the other who I married—I can say to that end, they were good and loving parents. While other parents were marrying their children off, mine were not. The
y told me to follow my heart, and I did. Now, as for you…you and Clarence are already being gossiped about, and I wouldn’t put it past your father to try to make a fuss today. But once you are a Deville, he shall have me to contend with, and he shan’t like that one bit, that I can guarantee.”

  “I…I…thank you, Your Grace,” Ann murmured.

  Francesca sighed, and settled herself down, and Lady Christopher came and sat beside Ann on the sofa. Holding her cane between her two gloved hands, Francesca continued to peruse Ann, to such an extent that Ann felt quite unsettled.

  “I do not understand why my son was so worried about your age difference. Now that I have had time to study you, in the proper light—you do not look any older than Clarence. You will suit him in that regard. He is a dandy—verging on being a fop, much like my Valentine, but he is a tough little dandy—do not forget that. No matter how kind, or how sensitive you think he is—he has steel running through his blood. However, he can be quite vain. You are fair enough, I suppose, but nowhere near as pretty as Clarence. Oh, no indeed, you do pale in comparison. That should make your marriage a happy one, as Clarence does so like to be the center of attention, and hopefully, you shall have no issue giving him the children he desires.”

  Now, Ann felt her face becoming quite hot.

  “Do not be embarrassed, it is something that must be discussed from time to time,” Francesca soothed, “And it shall be your lot in life as his new Countess. All eyes will be on you until you give him his heir. I could do with a bit of sherry, if that would be possible.”

  Ann dutifully stood up, and dashed over to the footman who waited near the still open Library door. He nodded his head after she gave him instructions to fetch some sherry, and rushed off to find the butler.

  “Now, then, I see I cannot scare you away from marrying Clarence, but I can frighten you, is that right, Lady Ann?” Francesca asked. Ann meekly nodded her head. “Have you had a visit from Marietta yet?”