by Joyce Alec
Edith stopped so abruptly that James nearly fell attempting to do the same. “What?” she asked, her breath coming in short pants.
He looked at her, trying to keep his features serious. After all, it was not every day that a man proposed marriage to a woman. “I wish to wed you as soon as possible.”
“But we have only just met,” she began before he silenced her with a wave.
“I enjoy your company, and our parents will both be pleased with the union. I do not see any reason that we should not marry.”
Edith looked at him, and James started to become uncomfortable under her gaze. “I thank you for your generous offer, my lord,” she said, “but I must decline.”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, slightly surprised by her response.
She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him now. “No, I will not marry you. We do not know each other at all, and I will not be forced into a union. Getting married because our families will be pleased is no reason to do so. I wish to marry for love, and I do not know you well enough to love you.”
James could not disagree with her—his feelings about the matter were almost the same as hers—but he was running out of time, and if he wished to be wed in three weeks, he had to get her to accept his proposal. “I will be a good husband.”
“I am sure you will make a fine husband one day to a very fine lady.”
He felt a sudden urgency to convince her. “What would it take for you to reconsider, Edith?”
Something softened in her eyes before she looked away, and James could not help but wonder what she truly wanted. She did not answer. What was it that Edith was looking for?
“I will win you over,” he promised her, feeling the challenge rise in his body.
She turned to him, and there was a glint of surprise in the depths of her blue eyes. “Then I wish you luck, Lord Linfield.”
6
One week later, Edith put down her book for the tenth time in an hour, wishing that she could concentrate on anything but James. For the last week she had waited to see what Lord Linfield would do next. Maybe her refusal had been enough for him. Maybe he had given up.
But she had heard the fervor in his voice when he had told her that he would win her over, and even after he had returned her to her home, he had voiced it once more.
“Ridiculous,” she stated, throwing the book onto the settee, and then stood to pace the room.
She should not be pining over a man she did not even know. She had experienced numerous proposals in her young life, and none had affected her so. Was it because she was starting to enjoy his attention? James was witty and charming, but it was not a façade. Those were his true character traits. She had truly enjoyed their brief conversations, and she had been forced to hide more than one smile on his behalf.
But he had not made an appearance since their stroll.
Suddenly, the door flung open, and Edith turned to see their butler standing in the doorway, his eyes wide.
“What is it?” she asked, instantly concerned.
“Something for you, Lady Edith,” he said, swallowing. “But I am not sure what it might be.”
Puzzled, Edith followed him to the front door and opened it, the sight unlike anything she had ever seen. There were drummers standing in a row in front of their house, their beat echoing in the still morning. Next to them were men holding flutes, their song matching that of the drummers. Behind the lot, couples danced in the street, their colorful outfits standing out against the dreary morning.
“What is all of this?” Lillian said, coming to stand beside her sister in the doorway.
“I am not sure,” Edith replied, watching the performance.
Could this be from James? Whatever was he attempting to prove to her?
“It is the twelve days of Christmas!” Margaret called from the hallway, forcing her way to the doorway. “I saw them from my window. It is the twelve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a-leaping, and nine ladies dancing! Do you not see?”
Lillian knitted her brow, looking at her sister in confusion. “Why would they be doing this outside our residence?”
“Because James is trying to impress Edith,” Margaret supplied.
Edith cut her a glare, wishing she had not confided in her sister about James’ proposal and subsequent challenge to win her over.
“Oh!” Lillian said, her eyes shining. “Well, then it is hopelessly romantic. I knew he was wonderful! I just knew it!”
“Come,” Edith said, shooing them back inside and shutting the door.
The noise stopped immediately, and they watched as the troupe made their way down the street, disappearing from sight. What was James thinking?
“Well, I think it is positively wonderful,” Margaret sighed, a faraway look in her eyes. “You have to admit that you do not know any other woman who has received such an extravagant declaration of love.”
“We are not in love,” Edith replied, though inwardly she was quite impressed that James had thought of something so unique.
“Here, my lady,” the butler said, handing her an envelope, “this was delivered as well.”
Her sisters crowded around her as Edith tore open the envelope and pulled out a slim piece of paper. Edith found her hands trembling as she opened it, reading the thick scrawl.
This is just the beginning.
“Oh, I knew he was attempting impress you,” Lillian sighed dreamily as Edith pressed the letter to her chest, her heart pounding in her ears.
She had to admit, James’ game was off to a good start.
Later that night, Edith found herself smoothing down the skirts of her pale shimmering dress as she entered the ballroom, her blue eyes seeking out the man of her thoughts for the last few hours—days, even. Perhaps she had been wrong about the future duke. Perhaps he had been sincere in his proposal.
“Ah, there you are.”
Edith turned to find James standing behind her, a grin on his kind face. He truly was handsome, with a head full of dark hair, raked back and styled in place. His eyes were the color of warm cocoa, crinkling in the corners when he smiled. He had a strong jaw and straight nose, everything about his face perfectly proportionate.
But it was his smile, she thought, that was the deadliest of his good looks. When he smiled, his entire face lit up, from his eyes down to the dimples on his cheeks, enough to make a woman swoon when he bestowed the expression on her.
Clearing her throat, Edith attempted to remain calm. “Your gift from this morning was just lovely. My sisters and I quite enjoyed the performance.”
He took step forward, leaving barely enough room for Edith to breathe. “It was only meant for you,” he stated.
Her eyes searched his. Of course, she was impressed with his gesture, and she truly did enjoy his company. But she did not want to become a game to him. It was likely that she was the only woman to ever turn him down. She wanted to marry for love, not be part of some childish conquest. Why must he rush into a union? What if he tired of her once she agreed to his marriage proposal?
Edith drew in a breath, not ready to give in. “I cannot wait to see what you do next, Lord Linfield.”
His eyes flashed before he laughed, drawing attention to those around them. “I accept your challenge.”
Edith held her breath as he bowed to her and disappeared into the crowd without another word. Why on earth had she just challenged him?
7
A week later, James placed his hat on his head just as his father came out of his study. “Where are you off to, son?” he asked as James grabbed his coat.
“I am off to woo my future wife,” James replied, grinning as he saw the shock on his father’s face. “After all, I have one week left, is that correct?”
“Yes, but I did not believe that you would find a wife so quickly,” his father stammered, arching a brow. “Are you truly doing so? Who is the lady?”
“I do not wish to reveal my plan as of yet, Father. All will
be known in time,” James said, excitement thrumming through his veins.
He would win Lady Edith Gillett’s heart, and if all went well, he imagined she would say yes by the end of next week, just in time for a Christmas wedding. He had kept her in suspense for a reason, realizing that a woman like Edith was used to the ordinary.
He was going to be the extraordinary in her life. He was going to show her that he was above those gents that had sung ballads about her beauty or filled her parlour with flowers. He was going to give her a lifetime of memories, some that he hoped included himself.
This was more than just proving a point—this was his future. Her strong wit, beauty, and intelligence would make her the perfect duchess. But more importantly, he believed he would be happy with her.
Giving his father a wink, James headed outdoors, stepping carefully in the snow that had fallen overnight. The morning could not have been more perfect for the next phase in his plan, and he just hoped Edith appreciated what he had planned for her.
The ride to Edith’s townhouse was short, and before he knew it, James was helping Edith into the carriage, this time not missing the soft smile from her lips nor her sisters pressed up against the windows upstairs. Edith’s maid sat next to her.
Edith noticed his gaze fixated on the upstairs window. “They think you are quite similar to a hero from a romance novels,” Edith said as she hugged her coat more tightly around her frame to warm herself up from the frigid temperatures. “I believe that either of them would marry you in a moment’s notice.”
James climbed beside her and picked up the reigns. “I am only interested in one sister, and she is currently pretending not to be impressed by my actions.”
She let out a laugh as they moved down the street, and James felt light. Never had a woman consumed his thoughts as Edith did, and he knew this was more than just showing his father he could do this. He truly wanted her as his wife, to see what else he could discover about her. She intrigued him greatly, and he knew that if she accepted his proposal, he would likely spend the rest of his days making her the happiest woman in all of England.
They arrived at Hyde Park and his nerves set in, hoping that everything was still as he had left it that morning. The twelve days of Christmas had come to him in the middle of the night, grateful that he had the funds to make each step happen. The troupe had been easy to acquire, though he had wished he had been there to see her expression when she had opened the door.
Today, though, he would be able to see her reaction.
They rounded the bend, and Edith let out a peal of laughter as the cows came into view, munching on the mounds of hay and grass that he had placed in front of them.
“Oh, my!” she laughed. “What is this?”
“Milking cows,” he answered, slowing the horses of the carriage. “Though I could not find any women wishing to sit in the cold and milk them.”
“The eighth day of Christmas,” she remarked, her cheeks red from the cold as she looked at him. “You are full of surprises, Lord Linfield.”
James felt the warmth from her gaze as he turned to point out the others. “I am also not sure if the geese are laying, but they are there. Along with the swans.”
Edith laughed once more as the pond came into view, and sure enough, the birds were still there, clearly not happy to be roused from their warm nests. “I cannot believe you went to this length, James, truly.”
He turned toward her, allowing the horses to walk without his guidance.
Her eyes danced with laughter. “I do not believe that any other man in all of history has gone to so much trouble.”
He reached over and brushed her cheek with his gloved finger. “I do not wish for you to think of any other gentleman but me.”
Her expression softened as he dropped his fingers from her face. “Why do you wish to marry me, James? Are you certain it is not about my dowry?”
James shook his head, careful not to touch her again. If he did, he might not be able to stop. “I do not know why you believe that I only want your money. Your father can keep your dowry. I believe you and I will suit well together, Edith. Is that so hard to believe?”
Edith drew in a breath. “I just… I am used to men wanting my money and not me.”
“They are fools,” he said, placing his hand under her chin so that she would meet his eyes. “The lot of them.”
“Perhaps,” she countered, leaning into his touch.
James drew in a breath himself as he saw how lovely she truly was, feeling a bit nervous about being there with her. What if she still denied his proposal after all of this was done?
Edith’s maid cleared her throat, reminding them that they were not alone.
Realizing what she was doing, Edith pulled away from his touch, her cheeks red. “I wish to tell you that this is truly spectacular, James. But, please, allow those animals to go back to the warmth of their barns and nests before they freeze to death.”
8
Edith was nervous. She cleared her throat before she stepped into the ballroom, watching as some of her former suitors approached her in an effort to be the first to sign her dance card.
Usually she would put on a bright smile and allow them their boon, but tonight, she walked past them, her eyes only for one man, who had yet to arrive. James was slowly taking over her life, her thoughts, her heart. The man did not give up easily, and Edith could appreciate that.
She had dressed carefully for the Yuletide Ball, hoping that she would see James and continue this banter between them. Edith did not want to push him too far before he tired of her refusal, but her heart was betting on the fact that he was a man who enjoyed the chase, and they still had five days left in the song. Five days, and then she would accept his proposal.
Edith shivered as she thought of being James’ wife. She had given it some careful thought, but his declaration of not needing her dowry had truly won her over. He clearly was not after her funds, and a piece of her hoped that he cared for her. The strong feelings of love would come later.
And she would be a duchess! Her mother was over the moon at the thought, putting more hope into Edith than she had anticipated having at first. A handsome, titled husband was all a mother could hope for, and James had it all.
So, Edith could only hope that James’ intentions were honorable.
“Are you waiting for me under the mistletoe for a reason?”
Edith turned at the familiar voice and gave James a smile. “Whatever are you talking about?”
He pointed upward, and she was surprised to see the ball of mistletoe above their heads, nestled in the doorway of the alcove just off the ballroom. “I believe that stands for something.”
She laughed, feeling nervous, and shook her head. “Not without a dance first.”
James grinned and held out his arm. “Then I would be honored to have the first dance, my dearest Edith.”
Edith accepted his arm, and he led her out to the dance floor, the small quartet striking up the waltz as they took their places. It was her favorite dance of all, and she imagined that waltzing with James was going to be even more than she could have hoped for.
“Do not trod on my toes,” she said instead, attempting to keep the air light between them.
When he took her gloved hand and wrapped his other arm around her back, Edith felt almost lightheaded. They had never been so close, and the feeling of his touch took her by surprise. She breathed in his scent, which was a mixture of bergamot and orange blossom, with a hint of musk.
He winked at her, guiding her into the first steps. “Never fear, I have been given the proper instruction. Your toes are quite safe with me.”
Edith laughed as they made their first turn effortlessly, to the point where she felt like her feet left the wooden floor. Around and around they went about the dance floor, Edith laughing as James swung them farther.
Finally, breathless from their dance, he took her back to the alcove, just within the shadow of the small sitting room
. From there, they could still be viewed if anyone so chose to do so.
“This is highly improper,” Edith breathed, her heart hammering against her chest, and not just because of their lively dancing.
“I am an improper sort of fellow,” James responded, reaching into his evening coat pocket and producing a small box.
“What is this?” she asked, barely able to squeeze the words out of her throat. Was he going to propose now? What was in the box?
“This is number five on the list,” he said, handing her the box. “I confess, I pondered over this one until I could find the exact thing I wanted.”
Puzzled, Edith opened the top, gasping as she took in the small gold brooch, each loop intersecting with each other to form, well, five rings. “Five golden rings.”
“Bravo,” he said as she pulled the brooch out of the box and looked at it in her gloved palm.
Edith looked up and shook her head, pushing it toward him. “I cannot accept such a gift.”
“Yes, you can, and you will,” he stated firmly, pushing her hand back. “I will not accept it back. It is yours to wear or melt down, if you wish.”
She fingered the brooch before clasping it just inside the bodice of her dress, out of sight but against her skin, so that she could remember it was there. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome,” James said, taking the box from her and dropping it into his pocket. “Do not forget about our time tomorrow.”
“I will not,” Edith replied, breathless with anticipation.
He was taking her to the menagerie, once again with her maid in tow.
James took a step forward, and Edith’s breath ceased to exist as he pressed his lips to her cheek lightly, turning her head so that they could brush over hers. The connection was immediate and wonderful, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. She wanted more—so much more.
But James stepped back, motioning with his hand before she could request anything else. “Go,” he said gruffly. “Before I do something rash.”
