“Come in,” Lady Ashford said when the carol ended. “You may all sing more, of course, but the parlor is much warmer than standing about in the cold.”
The singers doffed their coats, hats, and gloves, then trooped into the parlor, where the scent of mulled wine greeted them.
“Holly boughs.” William nodded at the decorations. “I suppose we should sing ‘Deck the Halls.’”
“A splendid idea,” Peony said. “But I must take my leave soon.”
Eliana glanced at the pitch-challenged Angelica, then back to Peony. “Three more songs, perhaps? Please stay that long.”
Peony agreed, and the singers arranged themselves before the gloriously glowing tree and began with “Deck the Halls.” After that, they launched into “I Saw Three Ships,” and finished with “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.”
“That was grand,” Selene said, applauding.
The duke joined her, and Eliana saw that Lewis and some of the maids and footmen hovered at the doorway. They added their praise as well, although the singing had not been that wonderful. Still, it was an honest and joy-filled celebration of the season, and there was something to be said for that.
“Please, everyone, make free with the refreshments. Lewis, serve up the mulled wine.” Selene gestured to the table, then turned to Eliana. “Might I have a quick word with you in the hallway?”
“Of course.” Eliana followed her sister into the hall. “Is everything all right?”
“Perfectly fine. It’s just that there’s something in the library I need you to fetch.”
She gave her sister a curious look. “Can’t you get it yourself?”
“Consider it in the line of a holiday surprise,” Selene said, her expression rather more furtive than Eliana was used to.
“I don’t want a puppy,” Eliana said.
Her sister laughed. “It’s not a puppy. Now go. I’ll save you a cup of wine.”
Brow furrowed, and a bit apprehensive, Eliana went down the hall and pushed open the library door. For a moment she saw nothing—and then Prince Sebastian stood from where he’d been seated by the bookshelves.
“Oh.” She froze, the glass doorknob cold under her hand, uncertain whether to flee or stay. It was rather a shock to have him appear so suddenly, tall and blue-eyed, his hair finally returned to its normal shade, when she’d been thinking of him all afternoon.
“Miss Eliana, I know you weren’t expecting to see me here. I beg a moment of your time, and then I’ll be going.”
The sound of his voice loosened her paralysis, and she stepped into the library, shutting the door behind her.
“Don’t go quite yet,” she said, then stared at him awkwardly.
Everything she wanted to say to him crowded into her mind at once, so that she was uncharacteristically incapable of saying anything at all.
He came to stand before her, his expression serious, and somehow that jogged the words free.
“Prince Sebastian, I must tell you—” she began.
“Miss Eliana, perhaps you’ve heard—” he said at the same time.
They both paused, looking at one another, and then he inclined his head.
“Ladies first,” he said. “Unless you prefer that I begin.”
“No need.” Her nerves trembled, and she drew in a steadying breath. “I wanted to tell you that I was wrong to have thought so poorly of you. This afternoon I had a most enlightening talk with my friend Lady Peony.”
He winced slightly at the name but said nothing.
“It’s clear to me now that I—in fact, most of London—misjudged you, and I’m sorry for it.” She swallowed, her pulse speeding. “I understand you’re leaving England, and I can’t say I blame you.”
Stay! she wanted to cry, but forced herself to silence. She would not lay the burden of her affection upon him when he was bent on leaving.
He was silent a long moment, their gazes locked. Eliana was not certain precisely what she saw in his intense blue eyes, but it made her breath catch.
“Miss Eliana,” he said at last, “I thank you for your apology, and your honesty. I owe you the same in return. Of course I knew who you were at the Midwinter Masque, though I pretended otherwise. I’d thought, due to your contempt of me, you’d be unlikely to suspect my ruse. And I think a part of me wanted to see who this golden-haired young lady was, whom all the eligible gentlemen hovered around.”
“And what did you think of her?” Eliana trembled to hear the answer.
“I should have guessed there was a reason for your popularity, Eliana. You are intelligent and witty, interesting company, loyal, beautiful, and, above all, brave.”
She gave a soft laugh. “I’m afraid of many things, I assure you.”
“Such as?” He moved closer to her.
“Drowning, as you know. Growing old alone.” She summoned her courage, imagining the fire of hope warming her from within. “Seeing the man I might come to love with all my heart leaving me, and England, behind forever.”
He searched her face. “I thought you never wanted to see me again.”
“I was wrong.”
One more step, and he was standing directly before her. His hands went to her waist, and she set her hands on his shoulders. He looked down at her, lips curving into a slow smile, and she was lost in a storm of emotion—gloriously, desperately. Fearlessly.
She tipped her face up to his, and their lips met, warm and urgent. All the travails and worry of the past few days were swept away by a surge of heat and love, a sense of homecoming so strong that Eliana wanted to weep with joy.
Desire flared, too, and a keen awareness of his warmth and strength, a burning curiosity about how it might feel to press their bodies together, skin to skin…
“Ahem.” Someone cleared their throat at the doorway.
Eliana jumped back to see her sister standing there, looking very much like she was trying not to smile.
“I see the two of you have reached an accord,” Selene said.
“We have,” Sebastian said. “It appears I will not be leaving England after all. At least not immediately.” He reached into his pocket and brought out a lacquer box decorated with delicately painted snowflakes. “Eliana, I’d meant this as a parting gift. Now, however, I’d like it to be a promise. Of courtship. And of love. Will you accept it?”
She stared at the box, her mind whirling. Had Sebastian just told her he loved her?
“Wait.” Selene stepped forward. “Shouldn’t you speak with our father first?”
“As a matter of fact, I have. He gave me permission to court Eliana.”
“He did?” Eliana stared at the prince. “I thought he was scolding you.”
“Oh, he did that as well.” Sebastian’s lips twisted wryly. “But in the end, he appeared to think we would be good for one another. A sentiment it seems your sister shares.”
“We are a sensible family,” Selene said. “Though some of us are unable to see what’s right in front of our noses.”
“You’re a fine one to talk,” Eliana said. “Last year, you missed what was plain as day to everyone else.”
Selene shook her head. “And this year it was your turn.”
Eliana let out a low sigh, and Sebastian caught her hand in his.
“I stand here, still holding this box. It is yours, Eliana, if you’ll take it.”
His words were serious, and she understood that he was offering more than just a trinket. He was offering his future, and, she dared to believe, his heart.
“Yes,” she said, her soul taking flight. “I accept.”
He smiled at her then, an expression so genuine on his normally guarded face that she caught her breath. For the sake of that smile, she would do nearly anything.
“I hope your wish came true,” he said, handing her the box.
She did not understand until she lifted the lid, to see a beautiful silver pendant glittering inside. A snowflake.
For a moment she was transported in memory to the sn
owy garden where Sebastian had first kissed her, the snowflakes swirling about them. She had wished then for someone who might love her for who she truly might be. Loyal. Beautiful. Brave. His words echoed in her mind.
“Yes,” she said, lifting the chain. The snowflake spun and twinkled in the light, but not as brightly as Sebastian’s smile. “I believe my wish did come true.”
They gazed at one another for a long moment, blue and darker blue, like the day sky shading into night. He gently took the necklace from Eliana’s hand.
“Turn around,” he said. “I’ll fasten it for you.”
He brushed the hair from her neck so tenderly her knees went weak. When she turned back to face him, there was a warmth in his eyes she had never seen before. The Ice Prince had melted away, leaving only Sebastian.
“I love you,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.
“And I love you, Eliana Banning.” His expression burned with intensity. “I had not expected to, but I do. What’s more, I intend to ask you to marry me, if you are willing.”
“When, might I ask?” Thank heavens the Midwinter Masque was not an option.
He gave her a half-smile, as if reading her thoughts. “Does Christmas Day suit you, Mademoiselle Red? That will give me time to inform my mother and procure one of the Sayn-Wittgenstein betrothal rings, along with her blessing.”
“Will she give it?” Heavens, marrying Sebastian meant she must become a princess!
For a moment apprehension stabbed through her, but then she lifted her chin. She was brave.
And just as she’d known that Sebastian would not let her fall through the ice, she trusted that he would be there in the future, strong and steady, tying together whatever he must to keep her safe.
“Mother will be pleased I’m marrying an English lady,” he said. “It’s why she prevailed upon me to come to London in the first place, and now she will think she’s won.”
“Did she not?”
“No. I have won. Far more than I’d ever hoped.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers, heedless of her sister still standing in the doorway.
It was a spark, a reminder, light as snow against her mouth. It was a promise, sealed with a kiss.
“Well, that’s settled,” Selene said brightly. “Let’s go back to the parlor and drink a toast. I’m certain my husband would like to know the outcome of this little meeting.”
Smiling at one another, Eliana and Sebastian laced their fingers together and followed Selene down the hall; to the warmth and brightness of the front parlor, to the mulled wine and candles. To the place where snowflakes melted, and the rest of their lives began.
* * *
~Thank you~
Thank you for reading A Prince for Yuletide! Want more sweet holiday romance? Selene’s story can be found in A Duke for Midwinter.
You can also pick up A Countess for Christmas and immerse yourself in the joys of the holiday season!
Ready for a longer, spicier tale? SONATA FOR A SCOUNDREL is a RITA-nominated, USA Today bestselling full-length Victorian Romance. Enjoy!
Other Works
Find all Anthea’s books HERE at your favorite retailer, or visit her website at anthealawson.com
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~ Music of the Heart Series ~
SONATA FOR A SCOUNDREL
MISTRESS OF MELODY
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~ Passport to Romance Series ~
FORTUNE’S FLOWER
TO HEAL A HEART
A LADY’S CHOICE (Novella, coming Spring 2017)
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~ Other titles ~
KISSES & ROGUES—Four Regency Tales
REGENCY SWEETS—Four Sweet Regency Tales
About the Author
~USA Today bestselling author and two-time RITA nominee~
Anthea's books have received starred reviews in Library Journal and Publisher’s Weekly, and named "one of the new stars of historical romance" by Booklist.
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Anthea lives with her husband and daughter in the Pacific Northwest, where the rainy days and excellent coffee fuel her writing. In addition to writing historical romance, she plays the Irish fiddle and pens bestselling, award-winning YA Urban Fantasy as Anthea Sharp.
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Contact her at anthea at anthealawson dot com, and join her mailing list, tinyletter.com/AntheaLawson, for a FREE STORY, plus all the news about upcoming releases and reader perks!
Get in touch!
AntheaLawson
www.anthealawson.com
[email protected]
Prince for Yuletide: A Victorian Christmas Novella Page 9
