The Dance Before Christmas

by Victoria Alexander

  “No, you didn’t, and that does seem significant.” But was that part of their ruse? Gwen insisted the way Wesley looked at Anabel went far beyond a mere act. “Are you certain you wish me to undertake this little project of yours?”

  He nodded.

  “I might need to hire someone...”

  “I shall pay for any and all expenses you might incur.”

  “Well...” She considered her old friend for a long moment. Archie was only trying to do what he thought was best for his daughter. One really couldn’t fault him for that. And when all was said and done, he was right—Wesley Everheart was not who he said he was. But he was a decent sort, financially sound, vouched for by his uncle and gallant enough to help out a woman who had needed help. He really was an excellent match for Anabel. And the step between pretending to be in love and actually falling in love was a tiny one under the right circumstances. Besides, it was far better that she handle the matter rather than allow Archie to hire someone who might actually uncover the truth.

  “Very well then, I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Thank you, Effie.” He raised his glass to her. “I shall be eternally in your debt.

  “Do remember that, Archie.” She cast him a smug smile. “Someday, I shall no doubt need your assistance.”

  “When that day comes, it will be my honor.” He fell into a thoughtful silence. “Are the other two going to be this much trouble?”

  “Oh, I would count on it if I were you.” She paused. “You do need to understand that a woman should marry when—and whom—she wishes.”

  “I don’t like it,” he said under his breath. “Why, in my day...”

  She laughed. “Your day is long gone, as is mine.” She reached over and patted his hand. “You don’t have to like it, Archie, but the twentieth century is within sight. The world is changing whether we want it to or not.”

  “Perhaps,” he muttered.

  “You are a cranky old beast.”

  “And you are—”

  Her brow shot upward.

  “—as forthright and clever and kind as you were when you were a girl.” He grinned. “And might I add as lovely as you were then, too. You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “And your lies are every bit as delightful now as they were when we were young.”

  He chuckled. “William really is a lucky man.”

  She sipped her whiskey and smiled. “I know.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “YOU DO REALIZE you are quite wearing us out.” Mrs. Higginbotham sipped a cup of Christmas punch and gazed at the dancers on the ballroom floor. “We never partake quite this much in social events during the Christmas season, even when our husbands are home. I had no idea it was so busy at this time of year.” She glanced around. “I haven’t been to the Egyptian Society’s Christmas Gala in years.”

  “I am most grateful that you’ve been willing to assist Anabel and me,” Wes said in as gallant a manner as he could muster.

  “As well you should be.” She sniffed. “Why, there’s barely been a single day in the last week when I or Poppy or Gwen, or all of us, weren’t accompanying you somewhere.”

  “Well, I do need to prove that I am passionately, madly in love.” Wes’s gaze lingered on Anabel, who dancing with an older man, a Lord Henley, if he remembered correctly. They had tried not to introduce him to too many people. She had reasoned that the more people he met, the more likely it would be that they would run into someone who knew Everheart’s family. And he had realized the more people he met, the more difficult it would be to explain his deception when the time came.

  Her gaze followed his. “Exactly who are you now trying to prove it to?”

  His future wife, with any luck at all. He now suspected he’d fallen for her the very moment he first looked into her green eyes. It wasn’t until he’d told her father about love striking without warning and finding the woman you didn’t know you were looking for—ideas that had never so much as crossed his mind—and then had kissed her, that he knew without question he had done what he’d always thought was patently absurd. But every time they shared a dance, he knew it was true and real and forever. He’d fallen in love with a woman he’d just met. A woman he knew nothing about—at least in the beginning. Now it was four days until Christmas and he wasn’t sure he had ever known anyone better.

  “This is only an act, Mrs. Higginbotham.”

  “Do keep telling yourself that.” She smiled knowingly. “And perhaps you will be convinced.”

  Kissing Anabel was probably a mistake and yet he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. He didn’t regret it and would do it again if given the opportunity. But something changed after their kiss in the conservatory. Anabel became much more reserved and seemed determined not to be alone with him. Which was all the more puzzling, as she had kissed him back with a fair amount of enthusiasm. When they’d had a private moment, he’d asked her directly if she was avoiding him. She’d denied it, saying their deception was pointless if they kept to themselves.

  So Wesley had played the smitten suiter with everything he had. He had attended caroling parties with her and concerts and plays, always accompanied by one of their elderly chaperones or her family. He sent gifts—flowers and chocolates and books. He called on her nearly every day and spent several evenings with her family. He grew to know her sisters and her father. And in spite of her reluctance to be alone with him, he grew to know her, as well. He learned what she liked and didn’t like and found they had far more in common than he had first thought. They both enjoyed not only Dickens and Verne, but Melville, Collins and Hugo as well. She played the piano adequately, confessing she’d never been fond of practice, and sang with a great deal of enthusiasm, even as she admitted her voice was not especially accomplished. Wesley was hard-pressed to disagree. She and her sisters teased and sniped at each other in the way only people who truly care for one another can, and they brought to mind his own family. He had the distinct impression Anabel would do anything for her family, as he would do for his. He’d helped deliver food baskets and clothing to the poor and saw her kindness and generosity first-hand. She was determined and stubborn, amusing and fierce, and one of the smartest women he’d ever met. Anabel and her father were both fascinated with the chronometer prototype he had brought with him and she asked questions that were insightful and to the point.

  And he hated lying to her.

  If he was to spend the rest of his life with her, he was going to have to tell her the truth about who he really was. Hopefully they could unravel the mess they’d built about his background together.

  Every day he was more and more weary of evading questions about his fictional family and his imaginary life. Until now, he couldn’t recall ever deceiving anyone, and the better he knew Sir Archibald and his family, the guiltier he felt about his deception. The only respite from this game of make-believe was in the company of Mrs. Higginbotham, Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore and Lady Blodgett. Whenever they acted as chaperones, Wesley would see them home. He could be completely candid on those rides and found himself telling them about his family and his life in America and his chronometer. He had as well become quite fond of the elderly trio.

  “I did not expect this.” His gaze stayed on Anabel.

  “It’s the unexpected in life that often proves to be the most precious.”

  He glanced at the older woman. “Are you always this wise?”

  “Yes.” Mrs. Higginbotham smirked. “This is not the first time I’ve seen something that started one way become something entirely different.”

  He blew a frustrated breath. “I’m finding it’s challenging to prove to someone that your feelings are genuine when you’re supposed to be pretending those feelings.”

  “It is rather confusing, isn’t it?”

  He snorted. “You have no idea.”

  “Perhaps.” She c
hose her words with care. “The best thing to do at this juncture is to tell Anabel the truth about who you are.”

  “I know but—” he shook his head “—I might lose her.”

  “You don’t really have her now, do you, dear? She thinks you’re an actor who has been paid to play a part.” She paused. “And if presented in the right way—why you went along with her plan and why you didn’t tell her who you were in the beginning—she might well forgive you.”

  “What if she thinks I did this just to be able to talk to her father about my chronograph?”

  “Did you?”

  “I will admit, it did occur to me,” he said slowly and then winced. “That’s a problem, isn’t it?”

  “I would think so, yes.” She glanced at him and then returned her attention to the dancers. “You don’t strike me as the sort of man who would back away from a problem.”

  “I never have been before.” He shook his head. “Then there’s Sir Archibald, Anabel’s sisters and all the other people we’ve lied to about who I am.”

  “Not a good way to begin with a woman’s family.” She shook her head. “Oh, what a tangled web.”

  “That’s not especially helpful.”

  “If you want help, all you have to do is ask. Politely, of course.”

  “Are you a fairy godmother now, as well as a chaperone?”

  She smiled in that knowing manner she shared with her friends, and for a moment Wesley wondered if his absurd charge might not be true. Ridiculous of course. Still, it was Christmas and stranger things had happened at Christmas.

  He drew a deep breath. “I would be eternally grateful if you and your friends would come up with some way to extricate me from this mess without losing the woman I love.”

  “We shall do we what we can. Things that were meant to be do tend to work out in the end, although they often need a little help.” She paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Have you met Mr. Reed yet?”

  “The man Anabel’s father wants her to marry?” He shook his head. “No. I’m not sure if Anabel is avoiding him or he’s avoiding us. Either way, it’s one less lie I need to worry about.”

  “You do realize everyone believes you and Anabel are headed for the altar?”

  “That’s the purpose of this scheme.” The most absurd idea popped into his head. “What if I married Anabel and then told her the truth? She’d have to forgive me then.”

  Mrs. Higginbotham cast him a pitying look. “And you run a successful business?”

  “I knew it was stupid the moment I said it, but...” He shrugged. “I am a desperate man.”

  “Try not to act like it.” Her assessing gaze swept over him. “You do make an excellent impression however.”

  He frowned in confusion. “Thank you?”

  She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “You’re about to meet the man you’d prefer not to meet.” She peered around him and adopted a brilliant smile. “Why, Mr. Reed. How delightful to see you again. It’s been rather a long time.”

  Wes braced himself and turned.

  “To my eternal regret, Mrs. Higginbotham.” The man offered her a genuine smile. “You are as lovely as ever.”

  “What utter nonsense but appreciated nonetheless.” She gestured at Wes. “Wesley, allow me to introduce Mr. Douglas Reed. Douglas, this is Mr. Wesley Everheart.”

  “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Everheart.” Reed thrust out his hand to shake Wesley’s. He looked to be several years younger than Wes and was not nearly as ordinary as Wes had expected. In fact, his sisters would probably consider him well above average in appearance. He was a shade shorter than Wes with fair hair, pleasant enough eyes, and the fit of his clothing indicated he pursued some athletic activity. “Might I have a private word with you?”

  Wes slanted a quick look at Mrs. Higginbotham. “Will you excuse us?”

  “Of course. I shall refill my punch and return in a few minutes.” She smiled at Reed. “Or will you need more time?”

  “No, that should be sufficient,” Reed said.

  “Excellent, as Wesley has promised me the next dance and I intend to hold him to it.”

  Thus ensuring Wes a speedy escape should he need one. He could have kissed the older woman.

  “Gentlemen.” Mrs. Higginbotham nodded and headed toward the refreshment table.

  For a moment neither man said a word.

  “Are you in love with her?” Reed’s firm gaze met his.

  At least Wes didn’t have to lie about this. “Yes, I am.”

  “Good.” Reed released a relieved breath.

  “Good?” Wes stared. “I thought you were going to berate me or challenge me or do something to win her back.”

  “Good God, no.” Reed grimaced.

  “But you were going to marry her.”

  “That wasn’t my idea.” Reed shook his head. “Make no mistake, I am exceptionally fond of her. I’ve known her forever and she would make a fine wife. I’m sure we’d do well together, but I’d prefer not to marry her.”

  Wes drew his brows together. “Why not? What’s wrong with her?”

  “Nothing at all, although she is terribly smart for a woman.” He shuddered.

  “I like that.”

  “Then she’s found the perfect match.” Approval rang in Reed’s voice.

  Wes shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s really very simple. My father and hers decided a marriage between us was the best thing for my career and for Anabel’s future—you do realize she’s nearly twenty-one?”

  Wes nodded.

  “I love Anabel in a brotherly sort of way and I hated the idea of hurting her. Especially at Christmas. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I didn’t want to marry her.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I’m fairly certain she’s far fonder of me than I am of her.” Reed straightened. “The best I could do was put off proposing, which wasn’t difficult as she’s been avoiding me for weeks. Frankly, I was hoping for some sort of Christmas miracle.” He grinned. “And here you are.”

  “Indeed I am.”

  “Now that you’ve come along and have so clearly won her heart—”

  “Do you really think so?” Wes shook his head. “I’m not sure about that.”

  “Isn’t uncertainty part and parcel of the first throes of being in love? I’ve heard that anyway.”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Regardless, in my opinion, there’s no doubt of her feelings.” Reed studied him for a moment. “I’ve known Anabel for a long time. I haven’t seen the two of you together until tonight, but I must say I’ve never seen her look at anyone—and certainly not me—the way she looks at you.”

  But was it all part of their ruse? It had stopped being an act for him the moment he kissed her. Was it still nothing more than a plan to escape an unwanted marriage for her?

  “The rumor is you’ve asked for her hand,” Reed said. “Have you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you do want to marry her?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “Well then, Mr. Everheart.” Reed grabbed his hand again and shook it enthusiastically. “You have my blessing, not that you need it. I wish you all the best. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Wes murmured but Reed was already moving away, with the lighthearted step of a man who had just been saved from a fate he didn’t want.

  So when it came right down it, there was no need for this charade of his and Anabel’s at all. A bit of honesty between Anabel and Reed would have sufficed, as well as the courage to set their fathers straight. Although, had that happened, Wes never would have met her.

  Mrs. Higginbotham was right. It was past time for the truth. At least the truth about his feelings. As for the rest—it might be best to see how she took his confe
ssion first. One step at a time and all.

  Lord Henley led Anabel off the floor. Now was as good a time as any. He doubted there would ever be a perfect moment. He drew a deep breath and took a step in her direction.

  “Oh dear, and you did promise to dance with me.” Mrs. Higginbotham appeared at his side. Magically? He shook off the ridiculous idea.

  “I did not.”

  “You would have if I had prodded you.” She lifted a shoulder in an offhanded shrug. “I simply chose not to.”

  “I doubt that anyone could resist you, Mrs. Higginbotham.” He struggled to keep the impatience from his voice. “Now, if you will excuse me.”

  She considered him closely. “You’ve made a decision, haven’t you?”

  “I’m going to tell her how I feel.”

  “And?”

  “And we’ll see how that turns out.”

  “It’s not enough, you know,” she said gently.

  “I know but...”

  “But it is a beginning.” She smiled in the encouraging manner of a grandmother or a true fairy godmother. “Go on then.”

  He cast her an appreciative smile and started around the perimeter of the dance floor. Before he lost his courage. Before he dwelled too much on the possibility that Anabel didn’t share his feelings. That for Anabel, this was still nothing more than a game of pretend.

  And, just like Reed, he too hoped for a Christmas miracle.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT WASN’T AS if chatting with Lord and Lady Henley was not as pleasant as always. Anabel had known them very nearly forever. She had gone to school with their daughter, who was now expecting her first child. Lady Henley was so delighted at the prospect of her first grandchild, she was inclined to go on endlessly, which meant a response other than smiling and nodding in agreement was not necessary. Fortunate, as Anabel’s mind was anywhere but here.

  As much as she’d tried to ignore it, had told herself she was engaged in nothing more than a performance for the sake of her father and Douglas, had clung to her belief in the absurdity of tumbling head over heels for someone she barely knew, it was impossible to deny what she’d suspected for the last week.