Kissed at Christmas

by Christina McKnight

  Ivy was just about to lie back down when she heard Michael cry out in pain.

  Oh! Goodness! What had that awful ghost done now?

  Ivy slid to the edge of the bed and then swung her legs over the side. It was the worst possible time to have a twisted ankle. More muffled sounds of anguish came from the next chamber, making her heart pound in fear, so she pushed up to her untwisted left leg and hopped as quickly as she could toward the door, somehow managing to keep her balance the whole way.

  Another scream rent out into the night as she reached the corridor, but this time it sounded like a woman. Ivy’s heart thudded. Michael had a woman with him in the chambers Ivy had given him? So much for his word that he’d always love her. Men were awful, duplicitous creat—

  “Help!” Michael’s voice rang out as his door flew open and a slight blonde raced from the chamber. She nearly barreled right into Ivy in her haste to escape.

  And then Michael stumbled to the doorway, wincing as he fell hard against the doorjamb.

  “Oh!” Ivy hobbled over to him. She noticed, even in the darkened corridor, that something stained his white nightshirt. “What happened?”

  “Stabbed,” he wheezed out. “I need help.”

  Yes, yes he did! And Ivy had barely made it from her chamber to the corridor. “Frannie!” Ivy cried. “Frannie, wake up!”

  “Ivy?” her cousin called out, sounding more than groggy.

  “Please, Frannie!” Ivy begged. “Please go for help. Lord Michael has been stabbed!”

  Stabbed! How in the world had he been stabbed? She stared up at him and her heart ached. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him, but the last thing in the world she wanted was to hurt him any more than he already was. “You should lie down, Michael.”

  Before he could reply to that, Frannie bounded from her chambers and gasped at the sight of them. “Lord Michael was stabbed?” she breathed out.

  “Please find someone,” Ivy pleaded. “Have that doctor sent for. Find—”

  “Be careful,” Michael said, sounding quite in pain. “I don’t know where the assailant went.”

  Frannie nodded quickly and then bolted down the corridor toward Uncle Frederick’s chambers. “Papa! Papa!” she cried. “Come quickly!”

  “Michael, you should get into bed,” Ivy said, hoping that he could do so on his own. Even without a twisted ankle she didn’t think she could support Michael’s frame; but as it was, she could barely support herself.

  “How I’ve longed to hear you say those words to me,” he replied.

  Honestly! He was such a… “Scoundrel,” she accused. “How can you possibly tease me at a time like this?” He must be better off than she thought to say such a thing, which was a relief.

  He smiled slightly, though it did look strained. Then he pushed away from the doorjamb and stumbled back into the bedchamber. Ivy hobbled after him. Goodness. They would look like quite the pair if anyone saw them like this. Him stumbling. Her hopping.

  He grunted as he made his way to the bed. Oh! Ivy’s heart ached to see him in such duress. “How in the world did this happen?” she asked. “Who was that woman?”

  Michael shook his head as he sat on the edge of the bed, seeming to have no answer for her questions, which was more than frustrating. Was he saying he didn’t know the blonde? That she’d come into his chambers uninvited? The idea of him inviting anyone into his bedchambers made her slightly ill. And the idea of anyone harming him made her even more so. Why would someone do such a thing?

  After reaching his side, and from the light from the moon spilling into his chambers, Ivy blanched at the amount of blood staining his nightshirt. “We’re going to have to take this off you.” She touched an unblemished edge of his shirt.

  A light glint flashed in his blue eyes. “I’m hardly in any condition for you to take liberties.”

  Oh! If he wasn’t bleeding, she’d slug him. How could he say such things when she was so worried about him? “For heaven’s sake, Michael! I need to see where you’re injured and so will the doctor whenever he gets here. Now do take off your shirt.”

  He seemed to deflate slightly. “I can’t lift my arm, Ivy. She got me in the shoulder.”

  Oh. She supposed that made sense then. “I’ll do it. “

  He pushed back to his feet and Ivy grasped the edge of his nightshirt, lifting it up to his torso. Then Michael sat back on the bed in his small clothes and Ivy pulled the garment higher. He helped her disengage his uninjured left arm, and then she very carefully slid the rest over his head before sliding it over his sticky right arm.

  Dear heavens! There was so much blood covering his chest and arm, and his shoulder didn’t show any sign of slowing down, not even a little. Ivy lifted a tenuous hand to her lips. He was walking and talking, but what if an infection set in? What if the woman’s knife had done damage that couldn’t be repaired? What if Michael died? Her heart twisted at the thought of losing him. How would she possibly go on if—

  “Sweetheart,” he said softly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, which at Keyvnor…”

  She had seen that pirate ghost. If he hadn’t woken her, would she have even heard Michael call out? Frannie hadn’t. Had that thing tried to warn her? Ivy glanced quickly around Michael’s chambers but didn’t see any sign of the nautical specter.

  Oh for heaven’s sake, why was she looking for that ghost? Michael had been stabbed and she needed to see to him. “Lie down,” she said shakily, not at all certain what she was doing. “We’ve got to stop the bleeding.” At least she thought they did. She wasn’t, after all, any sort of nursemaid.

  Dutifully, Michael obeyed, lying back on the bed. Ivy yanked off her wrapper and wadded it up into a ball before leaning over him and pressing the material against the gash in his shoulder.

  Michael winced slightly and Ivy cringed right along with him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  But Michael didn’t answer her and then she realized that he seemed quite focused on her breasts as she leaned over him in her nightrail. A rogue. He was still a rogue even as he might lie dying in his bed.

  “If I became a vicar, would you marry me, then?” he asked, his gaze drifting up to meet her eyes as his good hand settled on her waist, warming her from the inside out.

  “A vicar?” Honestly, what in the world was he talking about? Was the loss of blood making him delusional?

  “It wouldn’t be copper mining,” he added softly. “And we wouldn’t have to live in Wales, not if you didn’t want to.”

  A surprised laugh escaped her, which was odd. Nothing was even remotely amusing about any of this. “You want to be a vicar now? Somewhere other than Wales?”

  But he shook his head at that. “No. I only want to make you happy.”

  He was delusional, more so by the moment. And she stared at him, not at all certain what to say.

  “I’d probably make an awful vicar,” he continued. “I don’t think I have the aptitude for the church, but I’m not sure how else to prove that seeing to your happiness would be the most important thing to me, if you’ll have me, Ivy. I do love you.”

  Ivy’s heart lifted in her chest. Would he really change all of his plans just to suit her? That was completely unexpected and more than surprising. But honestly, shouldn’t he be concerned with the gash in his shoulder at the moment? His hand squeezed her waist, and she met his gaze once more. Goodness, the last thing in the world that would ever make her happy would be forcing him to give up the dreams he’d worked so hard for. “I am quite spoiled,” she said honestly.

  “I would love to spoil you even further.”

  “On a vicar’s salary?” She couldn’t help but grin at him. “No, no. If you want to spoil me, you’d best stick to your original plan and become a wildly successful copper miner, Michael.”

  His brow furrowed slightly as though he couldn’t make sense of her. Perhaps she was going about this all wrong, or perhaps his loss of blood truly was making it di
fficult for him to understand her.

  “Do you really think it would make me happy to watch you become a miserable vicar?”

  “I wouldn’t be going into trade,” he began.

  And the church was quite a respectable option for many in his position, but Michael wasn’t many. He was himself and she loved him just the way he was, every scandalous inch of him. “Yes, but there are no fortunes to be made in becoming a vicar, and I know how you have your heart set on making yours.”

  “I have my heart set on you.” And the intensity of his blue gaze made a shiver run down Ivy’s spine.

  “And I have my heart set on you,” she returned. “So you have to heal, Michael, because I cannot go to Wales by myself.”

  “Does that mean you’ll marry me? Copper mining and everything?”

  She had never in her life imagined that she would agree to such a thing. But this evening she could have very well lost him, and she would have never recovered from that loss. “You haven’t asked me properly,” she teased.

  “Not really in the condition to get down on one knee, but—” The most handsome smile spread across his face. “—Ivy Dallimore, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

  And she nodded quickly. “Just as soon as you are healed.”

  “I’m feeling better already.” Then he lifted his head off the pillow and pressed his lips to hers.

  “A stable boy has gone for…” Uncle Frederick’s voice came from the threshold. And then he cleared his throat.

  Drat it all! Ivy lifted her head and smiled down at Michael before glancing over her shoulder at her uncle. “A stable boy has gone for the doctor?” she asked.

  But Uncle Frederick looked more than scandalized, and he probably was. She was wearing next to nothing and kissing a known libertine in his bed. “I shall not enjoy the conversation I’ll have to have with Westbury about this, Ivy.”

  “I will be speaking to His Grace myself,” Michael said, lifting his head to meet Uncle Frederick’s eye. “You see, your niece just now has agreed to become my wife.”

  “Well, I should think so,” her uncle said, not sounding any less scandalized than he had a moment ago. “Ivy, you should return to Frannie’s chamber now. I’ll wait with Lord Michael until the doctor arrives.”

  But Ivy shook her head rather stubbornly. “I am keeping his bleeding down, Uncle Frederick. I can’t leave him now.” And then she smiled down at Michael. “I won’t leave you, not ever.”

  His hand came up to very softly caress her cheek. “I do love you.”

  “And I love you.”

  Castle Keyvnor, Cornwall ~ Christmas Day, 1811

  Michael’s shoulder still pulsed and he wasn’t certain if it was the knife wound or the set of new punctures Doctor Fairfax had made as he’d stitched Michael up the night before. Not that he cared in the least about any of that. How could he care about anything other than the fact that it was Christmas and Ivy had just hobbled into his chambers with his parents right behind her?

  “Oh! My baby!” his mother sobbed as she pushed past Ivy and sat on the edge of Michael’s bed. “Do you need anything? Are you in terrible pain? Is there anything I can do?”

  “Mother,” he complained with a wince, not that she paid him any heed. “I’m fine. Ivy’s been tending to me.”

  “I just spoke with the magistrate,” Father began, his gaze alternating between Michael and Ivy. “I am not certain how Hayfield’s governess mistook you for Lady Ivy or why she meant to kill either one of you...”

  Ivy gasped at hearing those words and Michael frowned at his father. He hadn’t wanted to ruin Ivy’s Christmas with that news, not since both of them had survived the night, the mad governess had been apprehended, and they had much happier things to think about.

  “Hayfield’s governess?” Ivy echoed, staring quite pointedly at Michael’s father.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” Michael said. “She can’t hurt either of us again, love.”

  “It does matter!” Mother began to wail. “She stabbed you, Michael. She could have killed you. Why would she do such a thing?”

  Because Michael had been sleeping in Ivy’s bed, at least that was what the magistrate had explained. In the darkness, the woman hadn’t realized that someone else was asleep in the chambers. Of course, Michael hadn’t talked with Hayfield’s governess himself. He only knew what the magistrate had told him. “Apparently the woman was under the impression that Hayfield was going to offer for Ivy and she didn’t want to see that happen. They found the knife in her quarters and a bloodstained dress that she tried to dispose of.” And Michael secretly wondered if the deranged governess had been responsible for Hayfield’s countess having died under mysterious circumstances too. But saying such a thing out loud would only cast a more anxious mood over the room, and he certainly didn’t want to do that today of all days.

  Ivy blinked at him. “You didn’t tell me this.”

  “I just learned it a bit ago myself, and it is Christmas. I hadn’t wanted to ruin it with awful thoughts about what might have been.”

  Because what might have been would keep Michael up at night. That mad governess could very easily have killed Ivy when she’d pushed her down the stairs or killed Michael when she’d stabbed him in the dead of night. Had she been successful in either of her murderous attempts, Michael wouldn’t have Ivy and she wouldn’t have him.

  “You could never ruin Christmas,” Mother vowed, grasping Michael’s hand in hers. “I’m just so relieved you’re safe.”

  And that meant it was the perfect time to tell his parents about his copper mine. They could only be so furious with him while he recovered in a sick bed, after all. Father would still frown his disapproval, but hopefully Mother would be so relieved that Michael had survived the governess’ attack that her usual fit of histrionics might be avoided. “Mother, Father,” he said very calmly. “I have news. A lot of news, actually.”

  Predictably, Father frowned. “More than you surviving an attack on your life?”

  Michael nodded. “One bit of news I’m certain you’ll be thrilled about, and the other I don’t think you’ll care for. Which bit do you think you’d prefer first?”

  His parents exchanged a look of concern. “Is this going to ruin Christmas?” his father asked.

  “I certainly hope not, though I suppose that does depend on you. And, like I said, one bit of news you’ll be over the moon about.”

  “What is the bad news?” his mother asked. “Better to get it out of the way, don’t you think, Donald?”

  Father heaved a sigh. “What is it, Michael?”

  Michael glanced in Ivy’s direction and she nodded in support. Even if his parents flew into a rage, at least he’d still have Ivy by his side, and that was all he truly needed. “I’m purchasing a copper mine in Wales.”

  “A copper mine?” his mother echoed.

  “An investment of sorts?” his father asked, his frown deepening.

  “I suppose you could look at it that way, but I’ll be running the day-to-day operations, Father,” Michael replied.

  “You’re going into trade?” His mother released the hold she had on his hands as hers began to tremble. Histrionics might not be avoided after all.

  “I am indeed.” He nodded. “And while I am certain you’ll find that a terrible shock, you’ll be happy to know that Lady Ivy has also agreed to become my wife. I do hope that softens the blow.”

  His mother’s hand fluttered to her heart and her gaze flashed to Ivy. “Indeed?”

  Ivy smiled in response. “Just as soon as Michael is well and a special license can be acquired.”

  “And you don’t care that he’s going into copper mining?” His mother’s voice nearly cracked on the words. “Westbury doesn’t care?”

  And that beautiful smile of hers that Michael loved so much settled on him once more. “I only care that it will make Michael happy,” she said. “And as he is devoted to my happiness, I am equally devoted to his.”<
br />
  And having her in his life, in his bed, in his heart forever would make Michael the happiest man who ever lived. And much more than he could have ever hoped for. “She is the very best Christmas present in the world.”

  About Ava Stone

  Ava Stone is a USA Today bestselling author of Regency historical romance and college age New Adult romance. Whether in the 19th Century or the 21st, her books explore deep themes but with a light touch. A single mother, Ava lives outside Raleigh NC, but she travels extensively, always looking for inspiration for new stories and characters in the various locales she visits.

  Connect With Ava

  www.avastoneauthor.com

  ava@avastoneauthor.com

  Also by Ava Stone

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  To Catch a Captain

  Encounter With an Adventurer

  In The Stars

  Promises Made

  A Scandalous Deception

  A Scandalous Ruse

  A Scandalous Vow

  Regency Seasons Series

  A Counterfeit Christmas Summons

  By Any Other Name

  My Lord Hercules

  A Bit of Mistletoe

  The Lady Vanishes

  Prelude to a Haunted Evening

  The Lady Unmasked

  Lady Patience’s Christmas Kitten

  Lady Hope’s Dashing Devil

  Lady Grace’s Husband Hunt

  The Haunting of Castle Keyvnor

  Once Upon a Moonlit Path

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