Marry Christmas (Zebra Historical Romance)

by Jane Goodger

  “Ah. Our waltz is next,” he said as the last strains of the country dance sounded.

  Elizabeth gave him a startled look, which she quickly masked. Her face completely expressionless, she put a hand lightly on his arm as he led her out to the floor where they awaited the first strains of the Blue Danube.

  He nearly smiled again when he realized he might as well have been dancing with a phantom, her touch was so light. Suddenly he decided to have none of it, and as the orchestra began to play, he swirled her about, forcing her to either stumble or grab on for her very life.

  “There you go,” he said grimly. “You have not melted from my touch.”

  Her cheeks flamed making her look even more beautiful, and it struck Rand that if he had to marry some one, he was damned lucky to be marrying such a beautiful girl. “You should get used to this,” he told her.

  She looked up at him and for the first time he realized her blue eyes were speckled with green flecks.

  “Used to dancing? I can assure you, Your Grace, that dancing and its many forms has been drilled into me since childhood.”

  “No, that is not what I meant. Used to touching me,” he said smoothly, and only grinned wider when she stiffened. He knew he should not torture the girl, but acting as if he were the very devil and not a rather nice man who happened to be a duke was beginning to grate.

  “It is difficult to dance the waltz when you are as pliant as a statue,” he went on. “I could kiss you until you relax, but I daresay your mother would not approve.”

  The nostrils in the small nose flared. “I would not approve,” she said haughtily.

  “Oh,” he said, bringing his voice down a bit, “I think you would.” And then he laughed because she looked so outraged it was all he could do.

  “You enjoy making fun of people.”

  “Actually, I never make fun of people. Perhaps you bring out the devil in me, Miss Cummings.”

  “He must be very near the surface if I do,” she said, which only brought about another laugh.

  Someone watching them from the perimeter of the ballroom would have thought them a delightful couple having a delightful time. They would note Elizabeth’s flushed cheeks, her shining eyes, how closely she danced with the duke. And they would also comment on the way the duke kept smiling, how his eyes drifted over her face as if he very much liked what he saw. They would have been wrong, at least halfway.

  Elizabeth was not enjoying the dance. The duke was absolutely insufferable. Intolerably so. This must be the longest waltz Johann Strauss had written. It seemed to go on interminably. While all the time the duke laughed at her. She could not wait until the last strains of the waltz sounded and she could escape outside where her cheeks could cool and where she could forget the way just the thought of the duke kissing her made her entire body heat. With embarrassment, of course. How dare he be so forward with her? It was not as if they were already formally engaged. She wondered if he talked to all women so.

  Finally, the dance ended and she stepped immediately from him, dropping her hands to give a brief curtsy. “There’s Maggie. If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace,” she said, and turned away before he had a chance to even thank her for the dance.

  When Elizabeth reached her friend, she grabbed her arm and led her toward her mother.

  “What’s wrong?” Maggie asked. “Did you see us dancing? Isn’t he handsome? And an earl, too. I’ve never danced with royalty. Do you think he’s met the queen?”

  “He’s not royalty, he’s a member of the peerage. Whatever that means. And I’m sure I don’t know who he’s met,” Elizabeth said, losing patience with her friend.

  “Or care,” Maggie said astutely. “What is wrong?”

  “I want to get out of this ballroom. Please come with me for a walk outside.”

  A look of real concern crossed Maggie’s face. “Of course.”

  “Mother, Maggie and I are going to take a turn ’round the garden,” Elizabeth said when they’d reached her mother.

  “Very well. And, Elizabeth, I thought you and the duke made a fine couple. Many have remarked on it.”

  Elizabeth said nothing, simply turned away with Maggie on her arm. When they finally reached the terrace and were away from the crush, Maggie gave her arm a squeeze.

  “Is he really that awful?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said, staring determinedly to the Atlantic. And then, “No. He’s not completely awful. I’ve told you that. But he’s insufferable and he enjoys making me angry. I think if I knew him simply as an acquaintance I wouldn’t even like him and I certainly wouldn’t want to marry him.” She felt her eyes begin to burn and squeezed them shut. She would not cry, it solved nothing and only showed weakness of spirit.

  “Come on,” Elizabeth said, “let’s walk to the gazebo.

  It’s so hot in the house, I feel as if I might faint.”

  “I wish I were as wealthy as you. I wouldn’t mind so much marrying the duke.”

  Elizabeth turned with shock to her friend.

  “Oh, don’t look at me so. You must admit he’s the most handsome man here. By far.”

  Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Do you really think so?

  I find him so…masculine.”

  Maggie laughed. “My dear, that is the best part of him.

  He looks like a scoundrel. A pirate, even, with that dark hair and piercing gray eyes. How could you not think so?”

  “Pirates are romanticized criminals of the worst ilk,”

  Elizabeth said, setting her jaw stubbornly.

  “I didn’t say he was a pirate, I said he looks like one.

  Tall and fierce and…”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Maggie, do be quiet. I don’t want to talk about the duke or the earl or anything. I just want to walk about and get cool.”

  Maggie put on a little pout that lasted, perhaps, ten seconds. “I’ll marry the earl, then. He’s nearly as hand some as the duke and not nearly as dour. I do find the duke rather dour, but then again, that adds to his charm, doesn’t it. The dark, tortured duke.”

  “Maggie,” Elizabeth said, sounding slightly exasperated.

  “Oh, you know I am just joking. You are no fun.”

  “I’m plenty fun with the right people,” she said stubbornly.

  The lawn was scattered with couples and women strolling about, but was large enough that the two could talk without fear of being overheard. The sky was darkening to night and the first stars were dotting the late summer sky. Servants were hurrying to light lanterns, which had been strung from poles to light the paths crisscrossing the lawn. It was a magical scene and one Elizabeth tried to enjoy as she walked arm in arm with her friend. She let out a sigh and Maggie gave her a searching look.

  “I’m trying very hard not to be maudlin, but it’s just—” She let out a shriek of pain as Maggie dug her fingers into her arm. “Ow.”

  “Henry,” Maggie said, whispering harshly.

  Elizabeth’s heart nearly stopped. “Where?”

  “By the beech tree. Oh, Lord, Elizabeth, what are you going to do?”

  They had stopped still, clutching each other, aware that anyone walking nearby could see Henry as well as they. But at that moment, no one was close enough to recognize anyone as dusk settled onto the lawn.

  The beech tree was one imported from Europe, a huge tree whose large, beefy branches drooped down much like a weeping willow. But the canopy of privacy created by such a tree was unsurpassed. The Cummings had such a tree in their garden, one that had delighted Elizabeth when she’d discovered its secret. For once you passed through the branches that dipped into the ground, you could not be seen. The foliage created a thick screen, a cool cavernous place where one could walk about or picnic. Or plan a secret rendezvous.

  “I thought you said Henry wasn’t coming,” Maggie gushed. “I think this is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “That’s what his note said. Oh, Maggie, what shall I do?”


  Maggie gave her friend a little shove. “I’ll keep watch,” she said, her eyes lit with excitement. “Go.”

  And so, Elizabeth walked as if on clouds to the man she loved most in the world.

  Chapter 7

  “Darling.” Henry grabbed her hands and brought them to his mouth before pressing his cheek against hers. His cheek was smooth, as if he’d just shaved, and it was so good to touch him. “I’m so glad you understood my note.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “But I didn’t. I was so upset when I thought I wouldn’t see you again. I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you. These past weeks have been a nightmare.”

  “You know I’ve been trying desperately to see you,” he said, pulling her farther into the cave the tree made around them.

  “Yes, Susan told me. My mother let her go and she finally got the courage to tell me you’d been calling nearly daily and writing notes. I never got them,” she said.

  “I thought as much,” Henry said fiercely. “I’m afraid your mother is very much opposed to us. And I see she’s found someone more favorable.”

  “The duke,” Elizabeth said darkly. “He’s come all this way and I expect him to propose any day. And I must say yes, Henry, I must.”

  “No. You cannot,” he said, clutching her hands even tighter. “Run away with me, darling. Your mother will come ’round. And your father. I believe he has a soft spot for you. He surely would not cut you off.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “You don’t understand at all. I don’t care a bit about the money. You are not a pauper after all.” She could not see Henry’s expression in the darkness of the tree, so she plunged ahead, knowing they had little time together. “My mother has threatened to kill you, Henry, unless I agree to marry the duke.”

  He stepped back from her in shock. “She what? Surely you don’t believe—”

  “But I do,” she said earnestly. “I never would have agreed to marry the duke had it not been for such a threat. She has been absolutely horrid these past weeks. And when I resisted, she had a heart attack. If I continue to resist, our doctor has reported she may yet have another more serious one, perhaps even fatal.”

  “That would solve our problems,” he said heatedly.

  “Henry!”

  “I’m sorry, darling, it’s just that I’m so very frustrated with all this. Surely your mother cannot persist when she knows how much we love each other.”

  Elizabeth shook her head, feeling as if it might explode. “She knows and does not care. She only cares about obtaining a title to connect with the family.”

  “And the duke? Is he simply a pawn in all this?”

  Elizabeth gave a bitter laugh. “That is the irony, Henry. He truly is the fortune hunter that my mother claims you to be. It is only his title that puts him in high regard. I fear he has made no pretense of any tender feelings toward me. It is only my father’s bank account that has him so enraptured. This is simply more than I can tolerate,” she said, putting her gloved fingertips to her temples and pressing hard.

  “Do you wish I hadn’t come?” Henry said, so stiffly her heart hurt.

  “No. Even if this is all we have.” Elizabeth felt tears running down her face but didn’t care. How had her life turned into such a nightmare? “We could still run away, couldn’t we? I don’t have to have all this,” she said, looking down at her gown. “I don’t even want it.”

  “I had no idea your mother was so set against our marrying,” Henry said thoughtfully, almost as if he admired her mother’s stance.

  “I know she threatened to have you killed. And at the time I believed it completely. But now, I don’t know. I just don’t know. I think perhaps she knew it was the only way to get me to agree to see the duke. Even if she does mean it, we could go far away. I don’t care. Even to California. I hear San Francisco is quite nice now.”

  “California?” Henry asked, sounding bewildered.

  “If it’s the only way to be together, then why not?”

  “Because this is our home,” he said. “We cannot be driven away. I refuse to be.”

  “But we could be together,” Elizabeth said in a small voice.

  “Yes, but to what end? How could we possibly live and where? No, it’s impossible. We should elope and then go to your father.”

  “Go to him for what?”

  Henry cleared his throat. “For forgiveness, of course.” She could see him smiling even in the gloom beneath the tree. “He would deny you nothing.”

  “Not if it went against my mother,” she said woodenly.

  “They would not cut you off completely. No parent would,” he persisted. “I will write to you. I need to know you will be there. The Vanderbilt ball next week. I’ll see you there and we’ll make plans. I need to know you still love me, darling, before I set anything in motion.”

  Elizabeth’s heart sang with renewed hope. “Yes, yes, I do love you.” And then in a rush before common sense could take over, “Make your plans.”

  Rand stood on the terrace next to Edward pretending to enjoy the whimsy of the Japanese lanterns lit so prettily around the lawn, but his eyes were pinned to a single female who stood as still as a statue staring toward a large European beech tree.

  “You don’t think the girl is stupid enough to plan an assignation,” Edward said.

  “I do completely.”

  Edward let out a sigh. “What do you plan to do about it?”

  “I’m not certain,” Rand said with feigned calm. He wasn’t certain because at that moment, the rage coursing through him made all thought incoherent. It was startling and completely unexpected this strange possessiveness he felt toward the girl. He simply could not believe she was having a tryst beneath his very nose. “I would like you to go meet Miss Pierce and lure her away, if you could. It shouldn’t be difficult as she seemed to be quite taken with you.”

  “Rand.” Edward said his name with a warning tone.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill the girl. Strangle a bit, perhaps.” Edward laughed until he realized Rand was not smiling.

  “You are joking, are you not?”

  “I wish I wasn’t. I wish I were the sort of person who was capable of violence because right now I feel violent.”

  Edward stared at his friend. “Don’t tell me you’re in love with her,” he said aghast.

  “Good God, no. But she is my intended, or rather she will be. And right about now I feel as if I’m being cuckolded.”

  Edward nodded, slightly relieved. “I’ll see to Miss Pierce.”

  Rand watched as Edward spun his magic. Though it was clear even from a distance that the girl was hesitant to leave her friend, it was also just as clear she couldn’t come up with a valid explanation to be standing in the middle of the lawn alone. When the two reached the stone terrace, she gave him a startled look as he nodded to her politely.

  “Your Grace,” she said, forcing Edward to stop. “Why don’t you come in and have some refreshments with Lord Hollings and I? I absolutely adore the little lemon cakes Mrs. Astor serves each summer. You must try them.” Even for someone as cheerful as Maggie, the invitation seemed a bit forced.

  “Thank you, but no. I believe I need some more fresh air. It’s rather stifling in there, don’t you agree? You must, else you would not have spent so much time enjoying the night air. Alone.”

  Miss Pierce gave him a tight smile, and Edward gave him a look of warning, before the two disappeared into the house. When he turned around, he saw a slight movement near the tree and decided to take a little stroll. One never knew who one might meet, after all.

  “Miss Cummings. Is that you?”

  She jerked her head up and took an extraordinarily short time to compose herself before walking toward him. From the tree.

  “Would you care to stroll with me?” he asked.

  “Actually, I’m getting a bit chilled and was going back inside,” she said, and continued walking by him toward the house. He grabbed her arm firmly, ignoring he
r small cry of outrage, and steered her away from the house. Some girls might have screamed, but Elizabeth it seemed had been well-schooled on the art of not creating a scene.

  “I’m so glad you’ve decided to join me.” He looked down at her and she stared straight ahead. She was such a stalwart little thing, he nearly smiled.

  “We had a beech tree like that in our garden growing up. Much larger, though. It was a wonderful place to hide. I imagine they were imported from Europe.”

  “I believe so,” she said, her voice sounding strange.

  “A perfect place for a tryst.”

  She stiffened next to him. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Wouldn’t you,” he said blandly.

  “I want to go back inside now.”

  “That is too bad.”

  Her arm felt slim beneath his hand and he thought he felt the slightest trembling. Good. He wanted her afraid at this moment, he wanted her to feel as much discomfort as he had when he realized she was beneath that damned tree with Henry Ellsworth.

  Finally, they reached the end of the lawn and stopped.

  She crossed her arms in front of her as if she were the affronted one.

  “I do not want you seeing him again,” he said, before he even realized what he was going to say.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Ah, she was getting her fire back. He smiled at her, which only made her frown more fiercely.

  “Henry Ellsworth. The man you think you love.”

  She gasped and his smile widened.

  “You are rude,” she said. “How dare you imply—”

  She stopped and let out a breath, and he watched as myriad emotions crossed her features. Then, lifting her chin, the affect of which was ruined by the slight quivering there, she said, “Yes, we love each other. And you are keeping us apart.”

  “You cannot love him. You cannot love anyone you have not been with for more than ten minutes at a time. I am always amazed how quickly foolish girls fall in love.”

  “I am not foolish and I am not a girl. You cannot know what is in my heart, or his.”