Kissed at Christmas

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Kissed at Christmas Page 23

by Christina McKnight


  Clearly, her brain had forgotten that even handsome men could be troublesome. She was starting to realize that Sir William was not quite as pliable as she’d believed. Nonetheless, tonight she planned to introduce him to Ariadne. Hopefully, he might give the young woman a chance. If he preferred quiet, shy women, then they would be an excellent match for one another. Though he’d said he had no intention of marrying, she wanted to believe it was because he hadn’t met the right woman yet.

  And perhaps, if she made two people happy, it would take her mind off her own failures.

  “Marjorie!” she heard a voice call out from behind her. It was Jane, her dearest friend, along with her new husband, Devon Lancaster.

  Marjorie embraced Jane and beamed at the sight of them. “It’s so wonderful to see you,” she gushed. “Have you only just arrived?”

  “We have, yes. But I’ve heard that there are not many places to stay. We may need to find rooms at Hollybrook Park.” Jane exchanged a glance with Devon, who was talking with another guest.

  “Don’t worry. As our invited guests, we have a room saved for you.” Marjorie walked beside her dearest friend, nodding in greeting to Mr. Lancaster. Jane held her husband’s hand, and there was a flush of love and joy upon her face. Marriage certainly agreed with Jane, and Marjorie was delighted for both of them.

  “I will have Mrs. Bray set out food and drinks for you in the parlor, since we’ve only just finished the evening meal. You may join us in a game of cards, once you’ve finished,” she suggested.

  “I would be grateful for food,” Mr. Lancaster answered. He shot a devilish smile toward his wife. “And the parlor sounds perfect.”

  Marjorie gave the orders, and when they departed, she saw Sir William leaving the dining room last. He was avoiding people again, it seemed. She was fairly certain that Ariadne had gone with her mother to play cards, and that was the perfect way to introduce them.

  She approached Sir William and smiled brightly. “Won’t you join in the games? There will be music as well. And you can meet Miss Cushing, if you like.”

  “I’ll let everyone else enjoy the merriment,” he said, beckoning for her to go. “Find someone else for Miss Cushing.”

  She hesitated, studying his face. The man was adamant about not even contemplating the subject or marriage. “May I ask you a question?” She kept her voice low, so no one would hear her.

  “You already have.”

  She took a step closer to him. “Why did you come to my sisters’ weddings?”

  “To prove a point to someone,” he admitted. “But she isn’t here, so it hardly matters anymore. And I promised my sister I would attend.”

  Now that whetted her curiosity even more. It sounded very much like a thwarted love story, and she tried to remember which guests hadn’t arrived.

  “Don’t you think you should try to have a pleasant Christmas?” Marjorie asked. “We have so many things planned so that everyone will have a reason to celebrate. Will you not attempt to find joy in the season?”

  “There is no joy in the Christmas season,” he said in a clipped voice. In his blue eyes, she saw the shadow of pain, and a sudden sadness washed over her at his words. How could anyone believe that? Something truly terrible must have happened to him during Christmas. Whether it was a family member or a lost love, she didn’t know. But it bothered her deeply to see someone unhappy during her favorite holiday.

  Sir William stepped away to the door. “Now, if you will excuse me—”

  “No,” Marjorie blurted out. Something had to be done. She could not stand aside and let this man suffer in silence. Though she didn’t know what had happened, she felt compelled to help him. “As the daughter of your host, I will not excuse you.”

  He did pause at that. “What?”

  She fumbled around for a reason and said, “I want you to join us in the games tonight. You might find a bit of amusement in them.”

  “I intend to find a book in your library,” he countered. “Perhaps I’ll find another corner in which I may lurk. Enjoy your games.”

  She joined him at the doorway, not wanting him to retreat again. He wouldn’t listen to reason, but perhaps he would listen to a threat. “If you don’t come, I shall tell all the mothers that you are seeking a bride. They will be falling all over themselves to offer their daughters. You’ll never get a moment’s peace.”

  He did turn back at that, his face tight with frustration. “Is this a declaration of war?”

  She only smiled. “Let us call it an incentive.”

  “I mistakenly thought that the daughter of Lord Banfield would be a more considerate hostess. Why would you make such a demand?”

  She gripped her gloved hands together. “Because it will not kill you to smile at a young woman and meet her. Enjoy a night of Christmas fun, and put the past behind you.”

  “We should make a wager in a game of whist,” he offered. “If I win, you’ll leave me in peace and tell all the matrons that I intend to remain a bachelor.”

  She did smile at that, for she was quite good at cards. And cheating, if the need called for it, which this certainly did. “Very well. But if I win, you will be kind to my cousin Ariadne. You will converse and perhaps even dance with her at the Yule ball after the wedding.”

  “I don’t dance,” he shot back. “And you should prepare to lose, Lady Marjorie.”

  She laughed at that. “I never lose.”

  Chapter 2

  The parlor was freezing cold. No matter how he adjusted his seat, William could not rid himself of the chill.

  He had reluctantly agreed to partner in whist with Miss Ariadne Cushing, but they could hardly win a trick at all. It was almost as if Lady Marjorie knew which cards they were holding, though he had no idea how it was possible for her to cheat. Sometimes she glanced at the air behind him, as if she saw something, but there was nothing there at all. Her partner was the elderly Lady Octavia, the dowager Viscountess of North Barrows, who appeared gleeful at their winning streak.

  William got his own petty revenge through silence. He knew Lady Marjorie wanted to match him up with Miss Cushing, but he would not be manipulated by her wiles. Instead, he simply played one hand after another, trying to win. His partner clutched her cards, and her face blushed a furious red.

  “I say, I am enjoying this game,” Lady Octavia proclaimed. She laid down her trump card and pulled the stack toward her. “It’s a pity I didn’t place a bet on it.”

  “But I did,” Marjorie beamed. After William laid down his next card, she trumped him and smiled. “I do hope Sir William does not hold it against me.” Then she tried to engage him in conversation again. “Do tell us about your home in Warfield. I should love to hear about it.”

  He pretended as if she hadn’t spoken. Lady Octavia appeared oblivious, and he suspected she had difficulty hearing. Miss Cushing seemed bewildered by all of it. She adjusted her spectacles and feigned an interest in her cards.

  From beside him, Lady Marjorie nudged him with her knee. Her purpose was obvious: Answer the question.

  William nudged his own knee against hers. No.

  At that, she glared at him. Stop being difficult.

  He had no intention of it. She was the one being difficult, trying to matchmake him with a woman when he didn’t want to be matchmade. Or matched. Whatever the right word was.

  But it would be rude not to answer, so he nodded to Lady Octavia. “It’s near Wales.”

  “Wales is such a beautiful country,” Marjorie remarked. “So wild and untamed, don’t you think?”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t been there since last spring. I’ve left it in the care of my sister and older brothers.”

  “Isn’t that a coincidence?” Marjorie beamed. “Miss Cushing has brothers, too! You have a great deal in common.”

  Good God, the woman truly was reaching for anything to pair them up. He almost felt sorry for Miss Cushing. The woman appeared terrified of him, but he wasn’t about to give Lady Marjori
e the satisfaction of a conversation.

  “I’m so sorry,” Miss Cushing whispered. “But I cannot trump her.” She turned over her last card, looking humiliated at the loss.

  In the meantime, Marjorie pulled the pile of cards toward her. “And since that’s the last trick, I believe Lady Octavia and I have won the game. Sir William, why don’t you walk with Miss Cushing and show her the refreshments over there? Mother has arranged some delicious tarts and desserts.”

  He was tempted to call her bluff by declining, but the glint in her eye nearly dared him to try it. With a sigh, he stood from the table. As he walked past her, he murmured, “I know you cheated. And I’m going to find out how.”

  Marjorie only smiled.

  Once he had gone, Marjorie glanced at his empty chair. Above him was Benedict, the Tudor ghost. He was beaming at her, and she nodded her head in thanks. Benedict was one of the friendlier specters, and they had a standing arrangement. As long as she allowed him to play his lute for an hour, while she listened as his audience, he helped her at cards.

  And Marjorie wasn’t above cheating when the outcome was meant to help a family member. She sat back in her chair, watching Sir William and Miss Cushing. They stood at the refreshment table with glasses of lemonade, neither looking at each other nor speaking.

  “Awkward, aren’t they?” Lady Octavia said. “I don’t know why you thought to match them up.”

  “Both of them are shy and quiet,” Marjorie explained. “I thought I’d simply help Cousin Ariadne find someone suitable.”

  “You’re trying to match up a dragon with a mouse, that’s what.”

  “Sir William is not a dragon,” Marjorie argued.

  “Who said I was speaking of Sir William?” the old woman cackled. Then she rapped her cane on the floor and leaned in. “But of course, he is a fine figure of a man. A bit handsome and brooding.”

  “He doesn’t like people.”

  “I don’t like people, either,” Lady Octavia pronounced. “But if you ask me, I think you’re sending the wrong girl after him.”

  Marjorie was beginning to wonder that herself. Sir William had obliged her, but he looked uncomfortable beside Miss Cushing. The young woman was staring at her untouched plate of cake, her lips unmoving. It appeared to be rather disastrous.

  “Then what sort of gentleman should I match up with Ariadne?” She asked the question aloud without thinking. It wasn’t as if Octavia would know the answer.

  “I don’t know about your cousin, but I know what was happening beneath the table, Lady Marjorie.” The old woman’s gaze narrowed. “My knees were bumped and jostled several times.”

  “I’m sorry.” In spite of herself, Marjorie felt her cheeks flush. “I was frustrated with him for not speaking during the game.”

  “He was baiting you. And I rather think you enjoyed it.” Lady Octavia leaned against her cane and stood. “Now, I’m off to get some sleep. Perhaps you should borrow Miss Cushing’s spectacles. You seem to be quite blind about what’s really going on.” With a knowing smile, the woman hobbled away.

  Marjorie wanted to groan. Was that how it had seemed to everyone else? She hadn’t intended any sort of interaction with Sir William.

  “All right. I’ll go and rescue them.” She pushed back her chair and walked toward the table. Her cousin stood apart from William, picking at her slice of cake.

  “Is something wrong, Ariadne?” Marjorie asked. “Do you not like the cake?”

  Her cousin risked a glance back at her, and her face held only misery. “The cake is fine,” she whispered.

  Marjorie patted her cousin’s shoulder and then walked to the opposite end of the table where Sir William was standing. She dropped her voice low. “What did you say to her? She looks as if you just killed her pet kitten.”

  Sir William shrugged and dug his fork into his own slice of cake. “I assure you, I did no such thing.”

  “You’re not even trying,” she sighed. “I thought the two of you might have a great deal in common.”

  “We both have brothers, as you noted.” He took another bite of cake, and a crumb clung to his mouth. Marjorie nearly pointed it out to him, but her attention was captivated by that firm mouth. His blue eyes stared back at her with amusement, and she had a sudden vision of kissing him and licking the crumb away.

  Good heavens. What was wrong with her?

  “I did speak to her,” he added. “I asked her about her family and whether she was looking forward to the wedding. She never said a word.”

  Marjorie was about to beckon her cousin to come closer, but Ariadne had fled to her mother’s side. “Apparently, I am a terrible matchmaker.”

  “Why would you want to meddle in people’s lives?” William asked. “Leave them alone, and if they want to come together on their own, they will.”

  “It never happens that way.” Marjorie reached for her own cake, still distracted by the firm corners of his mouth. She took a bite of the spice cake, reveling in the sweetness. “Oh my. I think I’ve just tasted a bit of heaven.”

  “It is good, isn’t it?” he remarked. “This is my second piece.”

  “I’m only supposed to have a bite or two. Ladies can never indulge.” But she savored the sweetness, loving the flavor.

  “Lady Marjorie, it’s not a good idea to—” His words broke off, and she opened her eyes.

  “To what?”

  He whispered, “To look at your cake as if it’s a long-lost lover.”

  “If I could marry cake, I would.” She smiled and discreetly licked her lips. “Cake would never tell me what to do or take my fortune away, leaving me with only pin money. Cake would never make unreasonable demands. Cake understands me.”

  He laughed at that. “You, Lady Marjorie, are nothing like I expected.”

  “And you, Sir William, have spoken more in the past two minutes than I’ve ever heard you say.”

  He set down his plate and took a sip of lemonade. “Perhaps that’s because I know you have no desire to marry. And that is why I can speak freely.”

  “Heaven forbid I should become another man’s property.” With reluctance, she set down her empty plate. She was so grateful to be rid of Lord Dewbury. The man had actually tried to dictate the gowns she wore and the food she ate. She shuddered at the memory.

  “And yet, you’re still trying to throw your cousin upon the sacrificial altar.”

  “That’s different. Ariadne wants to be married.” Though her cousin wanted to have a choice in her suitor. Marjorie could only imagine the sort of man Aunt Agnes would choose for her daughter. The thought was not at all pleasant.

  “I’m not certain she does,” Sir William countered. “At least, not to someone like me. She could hardly speak two sentences.”

  “I imagine you intimidated her.” She hadn’t expected Sir William to be so…forthright, and likely it had put Ariadne’s brain at sixes and sevens.

  “I am not at all intimidating.” He finished his lemonade and eyed the cake as if contemplating a third piece.

  “Not to me,” she acceded. “I will admit that I misjudged you. I thought you would be a shy gentleman in need of a wife.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I am a man who likes peace and quiet. And while Ariadne is quiet enough, she and I would never suit. Besides that, the last thing I want is a wife.”

  She wanted to tell him that she fully agreed with him about avoiding marriage. But that wouldn’t help her cousin at all.

  “Perhaps you haven’t met the right lady yet,” she suggested. The more she talked with Sir William, the more she wondered what sort of woman would suit him. “You could make someone a very good husband. You are a knight, after all.”

  He eyed her thoughtfully. “Many women would not even consider me because a knighthood is not a high rank.”

  “How did you become a knight?” she asked.

  His countenance reddened as if he didn’t want to speak of it. But then he admitted, “I was merely at the right place at th
e right time. I defended the king from a man trying to harm him.”

  His reluctance to discuss the matter only raised him in her esteem. He could easily have boasted about the accomplishment, but instead, he preferred to suppress his deed.

  “It sounds as if you are an honorable man. I do think you could win the heart of a woman like Ariadne, if you tried.”

  “And I have brothers,” he mocked.

  She smiled back at him. It had been a stretch, trying to find some commonality between him and Ariadne. “Whereas I have no brothers at all.”

  “Thank God. There is no chance at all of a match between someone like you and me.” The teasing smile at his lips made her answer with her own smile.

  “Heaven forbid.” She raised her glass in a silent toast. There was a nonchalant manner about him, and she found it entirely too easy to talk with William about nothing at all. “Now that we’ve settled that, will you help me find a better match for my cousin?”

  “You want me to play matchmaker?” His brows narrowed at the idea.

  “Well, why not? You do know many of the wedding guests. Is there someone better who would suit my cousin?”

  “I don’t even know her.”

  “You know how shy she is. Surely you could think of someone.”

  “I have no desire to spoil the life of a friend by ensnaring him into an unwanted marriage.”

  She could almost understand his point, but this was different. “I’m asking about someone who does want to find a wife. Cousin Ariadne has an acceptable dowry, and she’s not bad-looking.” When she removed her spectacles and washed the ink from her hands, that is. “Think upon it, won’t you?”

  Without waiting for a reply, she left him standing beside the table.

  William hadn’t slept well at all. The castle was completely crowded with guests, and although he had been given a small room with a narrow bed, he’d been unable to calm his troubled thoughts. He’d spent hours last night staring at the ceiling. Lady Marjorie’s whiskey brown eyes had been fraught with mischief, and her strawberry blond hair framed a beautiful face. But it was her lips that captivated him. He’d daydreamed of silencing her chatter by claiming that mouth and kissing her senseless.

 

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