Dragonblade Holiday Bundle: A Historical Romance Collection

by Alexa Aston

  Felicity shut the door securely and followed him to the fireplace. She motioned to the refreshments on the corner table nearby. “I thought we’d be more comfortable seated beside the fire.”

  “An excellent idea.” He set the wood down in the bin and then grabbed two logs and placed them in the hearth, watching as they took blaze. “There, we shall be nice and warm.”

  “Thank you.” She’d already poured their tea and now cut him a slice of lemon cake. “I was going to put up some holiday decorations. Lady Poppy and Duchess Olivia dropped off several boxes of them last week. They’re filled with holly and ribbons and strings of dried cranberries.”

  He devoured the cake and took a sip of his tea. “Delicious, Miss Billings. Did they include any mistletoe?”

  “Oh, yes. They did.” She brought in the boxes, placed them on the table, and began to dig through them. She pulled out holly and ribbons, and finally the mistletoe.

  His smile was seductive. “Where are you going to hang it?”

  She knew just where, in the center of the shop between the bookshelves and her desk. Not that anyone would actually kiss her under it, but it would make for a good conversation piece. “Right there.” She pointed to the spot. “I have a ladder. If you hold it steady for me, I can put it up before you leave. But I’d rather put up the holly and velvet ribbons first.”

  “As you wish.” He slapped his hands to his thighs and gave an approving nod as he took a holly bough into his hands. “I am your servant and entirely at your disposal.”

  She laughed. “I’ve never had a servant before. I think you serve a higher authority than me, but I shall gladly borrow you for the afternoon.”

  She expected a jovial retort, but was surprised when he suddenly turned quite serious. He reached out, seemingly about to take her hand in his. “Miss Billings, I–”

  The bell on the door tinkled.

  He drew his hand away.

  She turned, now gripping the velvet ribbons and wondering what the vicar had been about to say to her. She’d find out later, she supposed. Who else was mad enough to be out in the middle of a blizzard? “Dr. Carmichael.” Her heart responded instantly, fluttering so that she found it difficult to catch her breath.

  She hadn’t expected to see him today.

  “Miss Billings,” he said with a barely perceptible nod, but his gaze was on the vicar as though he wished to slice the man in half with a broadsword. “Vicar,” he said with a more obvious nod in his direction. “What brings you here?”

  “I might ask you the same question.” He rose along with Felicity to greet the doctor. His lips curved in a devilish grin and his eyebrow arched quite wickedly, giving him a not very pious appearance. “I’m tending to my flock. What’s your excuse for visiting Miss Billings?”

  “Same as yours, I expect.” He shut the door behind him, but did not remove his coat or bother to shake off the small pile of snow collected on his shoulders. “Just looking after the citizens of Wellesford.”

  The vicar folded his arms across his chest. “Whether they’re ill or not? That’s mighty devoted of you.”

  Felicity felt decidedly uncomfortable standing between these two stubborn Scots as they stood staring at each other, arms folded across their puffed-out chests. She knew the vicar, Adam Carstairs, was originally from Inverness. It struck her suddenly as odd that she had no idea where Angus Carmichael was born and raised, for he’d never mentioned it in all the years they’d known each other. All he’d ever told her was that he had been born in Scotland. He’d never revealed where, or when he’d left, or ever spoken of his family.

  In truth, it seemed now that he’d been quite secretive about himself.

  How could she allow herself to fall in love with a man she knew nothing about?

  The two men were still staring each other down, much like two rams about to butt heads over a ewe in heat.

  Is this what these men thought of her? A love-starved spinster?

  How dare they!

  It was utterly humiliating.

  She marched to the vicar’s side and removed the holly boughs he was holding in his grasp. “I am not one of your sheep, and I do not need tending.”

  She set aside the decorations and marched to the doctor who had remained standing by the door. “Nor am I a sick, old goat.”

  She placed her hands on his solid arms, ignoring the tingles that immediately shot through her fingers at the mere touch and turned him toward the door. “Both of you…out! I do not need anyone’s assistance to decorate my shop.”

  “What did I do?” the vicar retorted, looking wounded. Of course, he still looked handsome as sin, and he knew it. But she was not going to be the ewe these two rams fought over because they were bored and needed a little sport.

  She’d known both of these men ever since they’d arrived in Wellesford. The doctor had lived here for years. The vicar was relatively new to town, but had been here long enough to know better.

  Neither one had ever singled her out as someone special. Why the sudden interest now?

  Oh, heavens!

  Had they placed a friendly wager between themselves, betting on who would succeed in kissing her first? Because everyone in town knew she had never been kissed. Did they believe she was desperate for it to happen before she turned thirty?

  She placed her hands on her hips and frowned at the vicar. “You only came by because you noticed Dr. Carmichael stop by the other day.”

  She turned to the doctor. “And why are you here today? Is it because you noticed the vicar was here and had the urge to snoop? Out! The both of you.”

  She handed the vicar his cloak, scarf, and gloves, pushing him out the door as he scrambled to put them on. The doctor had never taken off his cloak so she merely tipped her chin up and pointed to the door. “Felicity,” he said softly, “I–”

  “Not now, Angus. Leave me alone. I’m in no humor for the pair of you and your little-boy antics.” She was not a little ball the pair of them could kick back and forth for their amusement.

  She wanted to shut the door before he saw the tears forming in her eyes but couldn’t quite manage it.

  He might have looked remorseful as he watched the tears sting her eyes.

  So what if he did?

  She slammed the door in his face.

  Let him think of her as a deranged watering pot. In truth, she must have lost her wits to kick out two of the town’s most eligible bachelors. But that was just it, they had no sincere, romantic interest in her. They’d come here out of pity for the lonely spinster and she felt humiliated. “I’ll show you,” she muttered, wiping her eyes with her sleeve and then grabbing the ladder.

  She was going to hang the mistletoe herself and kiss the very next gentleman who walked into the shop…well, no… She sighed. She didn’t know what she was going to do other than put up the mistletoe and figure it all out later.

  Her eyes were still watering, so she wiped them again, then propped the ladder against one of the bookshelves closest to the center of the shop. She climbed up with the mistletoe in hand. All she had to do was reach up a little, and over…and a little more…

  She screamed as the ladder began to wobble and flailed helplessly to regain her balance as it began to topple.

  She felt herself floating through the air for one horrid moment. Weightless, boneless. Then her arm struck the wood floor with a painful thwack, and though she’d stuck out her hand to break her fall, her head also hit the floor with a duller thwack that was infinitely more painful.

  Stars burst in front of her eyes.

  Then all went black.

  Chapter Four

  “Felicity!” Angus heard her scream, for he hadn’t moved away from her front door yet. Then he heard a terrible crash. His heart shot into his throat. He tore back into the shop, the vicar on his heels, only to find Felicity sprawled unconscious on the floor. Her arm was in a position that should not have been possible were it undamaged.

  “Adam, don’t,” he sa
id with a shaking voice as the vicar leaned over to lift her off the floor. “She’s broken her arm. Let me make certain nothing else is broken before either of us lifts her.”

  “All right. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.” The vicar took several deep breaths, obviously quite shaken himself. “Is she alive?”

  Felicity groaned, sparing him the need of a response.

  “Thank the Lord,” Angus muttered. “Yes, she seems to be coming around now.”

  She blinked her eyes open and tried to rise. Angus placed his hand gently on her uninjured shoulder. “Don’t move yet, love. Your arm’s broken. Let me check the rest of you before you attempt to get up. You’ve hit your head.” He could see the red welt forming on her brow and feared it would turn into something quite serious as the night wore on. It wouldn’t be long before she sported a lump the size of a goose egg on her forehead. The danger was in allowing the lump to get larger than that, for it would put too much pressure on her brain.

  Had she broken any other bones?

  He took his time examining her, careful to shift her as little as possible while he felt along her neck and spine. He spoke to her all the while, hoping his tone would calm her as he ran his hands along her shoulders, hips, down her legs, and removed her boots so that he could inspect each of her toes.

  He let out a breath in relief when she was easily able to wiggle them. “Adam, it’s just her arm,” he said, sparing a glance at the vicar. As displaced Scots, they had quickly become friends. “Her ankle’s twisted. Not much swelling yet, but it will hurt. She’ll have to keep off it for a day or two, possibly three.”

  Adam nodded. “Thank goodness it isn’t worse. What can I do to help?”

  “Pack some ice in a cloth. We’ll use it as a compress for her head. It’s vital we keep the swelling down. I’ll put a splint on her arm. She’ll have bruising everywhere, but the bruises ought to fade fairly quickly. She’s otherwise in good health and her circulation is good. We’ll need more ice for her ankle, too.”

  He lifted Felicity into his arms with care and carried her into her bedchamber. His heart tugged as she absently wrapped her good arm around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder. This felt so right, her body pressed against his, and her response so natural and trusting. She belonged with him, only he had been too dense to realize it.

  Her hair felt silky against his cheek.

  Why had he never said anything to her about his feelings? He’d wasted all this precious time.

  The room was sparsely furnished but had all the essentials, a bed, a wardrobe, and a chest of drawers along with a few delicate touches. He deposited Felicity onto the mattress, still taking care to be gentle as he set her atop the covers. He did not tuck her in yet and would not until he’d finished treating her injuries.

  He started by removing her stockings.

  Adam had followed him in and was looking over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “Her right ankle is sprained and swelling. I’m just making certain it isn’t anything worse.” Fortunately, it wasn’t.

  He loosened the ties of her gown next and carefully drew down the sleeve to get a look at her broken arm. “Adam, why are you still hovering? Get me the ice.”

  Angus also left Felicity’s side a moment to search for strips of wood to hold her broken bone in place and cloths to bind it. He came back quickly with all he needed. But as he drew the fabric aside, he noticed a birthmark on her back, just below her shoulder. “Mother in heaven,” he said in a whisper, realizing where he’d seen another just like it. “No, it can’t be.”

  The vicar hurried in. “Here, Angus. I’ve got… What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Damn, is she in worse shape than you thought? What do you need me to do?”

  “Nothing at the moment. Perhaps pray for her to heal quickly. Give me the compress. We’ll take turns applying it to the lump. We have to keep the swelling down.” He winced. “I think she hit her head pretty hard.”

  The vicar noticed Angus had nudged her gown down to her waist.

  Angus followed the direction of his gaze. “I had to do it to tend to her broken arm.”

  “I know. Should we undress her? I mean, you’ve already got her part way there.”

  “Don’t touch her.” Angus shot him a look that warned he wouldn’t live to see the next sunrise if he dared set a hand on Felicity.

  “For pity’s sake, stop shooting daggers at me. I meant nothing lewd by it. And don’t pretend for a moment you weren’t looking at her splendid body and lusting.”

  “I had to look. In a medical way. That’s all.”

  “My arse, you’re practically in spasms over the girl. Don’t bother to deny it. She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she? Won’t she be more comfortable in her nightclothes?”

  “Yes, but you’re not to touch her.”

  Adam held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, I won’t. But she still needs to be made comfortable. You can’t leave her with the gown hanging half off her body.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Angus knew he was being possessive and unreasonable, but he didn’t care. No other man would ever put his hands on Felicity. Hell, he wasn’t sure Felicity would ever allow him to put his hands on her. Why would she when he’d never given her cause to think he cared?

  He’d purposely kept his distance, purposely hidden his feelings. And now he was supposed to return to Scotland.

  He’d planned to leave shortly after Christmas eve supper at Sherbourne Manor.

  But how could he abandon Felicity in this condition? “I’ll do it,” he repeated softly. “Go into the bookshop. I’ll call you back in when she’s decent.”

  “Angus,” his friend said with a sigh, “you have to tell her. She deserves to know who you really are.”

  He tensed, but not because of Adam’s admonition. He’d planned to reveal his true identity to Felicity before he left Wellesford. But he’d just discovered who she was, that rare birthmark on the back of her shoulder proof of her family connection.

  Well, not solid proof. More of a solid indication.

  He’d confirm it once the storm ended. But what then? Confront her mother? Force her to reveal her identity to Felicity? To what end? The woman, her husband, and family would all be destroyed if the truth came out.

  Lord, this was a mess.

  Felicity had never known who her parents were. They’d abandoned her when she was a baby, dumping her at the orphanage. Angus wasn’t certain of the father’s identity, but he now had a strong suspicion of her mother’s. Blessed saints! The woman was a regular at Felicity’s book club meetings.

  She’d been right under Felicity’s nose all these years.

  The vicar placed a hand on his shoulder. “Angus, seriously, are you all right?”

  “Yes, just worried about her.”

  “So am I. Are you going to stay by her bedside through the night?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll sit with you.” He tossed Angus a mirthless smile. “You need a chaperone. The fiery way you look at her, you ought to be doused with water to put out the flames. How long have you been in love with her?”

  Angus stared at the compress on Felicity’s brow. “Long time. From the moment I set eyes on her, to be exact. The first day I walked in here looking for a medical book. She was just finishing up with a customer, so I waited. She turned to me and smiled. It was as though I’d been struck by a bolt of lightning. Still happens every time I look at her.”

  “Lord, you’re brainless. You may be the smartest man in town, but you’ve loved her all this time and done nothing about it? You’re an idiot. Or a badly damaged soul. I suppose we both are, aren’t we? Why else would we have fled our homes?” Adam left his side to forage through her bureau. “Here’s a nightgown for her. Call me in if you need my help. Keeping her comfortable is most important, so don’t be an arse and cause her pain because you won’t let anyone else touch her. You have no right, you know. All these years, yo
u ought to have said something to her.”

  Once more left alone with Felicity, Angus eased the gown and corset off her body. He decided not to remove her chemise. She’d need the extra warmth. Besides, he didn’t think he could handle seeing her without a stitch of clothing on.

  He stifled a groan as he unpinned her hair and nudged the soft cascade of curls aside to fall over her good shoulder. She’d feel more comfortable resting her head against the pillow without the bun pinned at the nape of her neck.

  “Felicity, love. Almost done,” he whispered when she gasped and let out a sob.

  “It hurts, Angus.”

  “I know, love. I’ve removed your gown and undone your hair. You’ll feel better now.”

  “Will you stay with me?”

  “Yes, all night.” She sounded scared. He wanted to take her into his arms and never let her go. Perhaps he would wrap her in his arms as the night wore on, especially if her body turned cold.

  He called out softly to Adam once he had her settled again.

  “Lord, she’s beautiful,” Adam muttered, looking down at her. “Is she sleeping?” He’d returned with one of the small chairs from the shop and now placed it by her bed. He settled his large frame in the chair.

  “Yes, I think so. She’ll be drifting in and out because of the pain and that bump on her head. I can’t give her laudanum for it yet. Too dangerous. I don’t want her slipping into too deep a sleep. She might never wake up.”

  “So, we keep her awake?”

  Angus nodded. “Something like that. A light sleep is fine or allowing her to keep her eyes closed.”

  “I’m staying right here, too.” Adam folded his arms across his chest and stretched his long legs before him. “You’re going to do the right thing once she’s feeling better. I’m going to make certain of it.”

  “Don’t lecture me,” Angus grumbled. “You’re one to talk. The women of Wellesford flutter around you like bees to a flower, but you haven’t set your heart on any of them. Not even Lady Poppy. Everyone thought you were in love with her.”