Lord Misrule (The Matchmaking Earl Book 1)

by Donna Cummings

  She smiled and sailed through the open doorway, closing it behind her.

  Juliana turned and saw Nicholas watching her intently. It disconcerted her, and she had to remind herself how to act the hostess. “Please, have a seat.” She motioned to the settee. She seated herself in a chair across from him, even though she would have preferred dropping herself onto his lap.

  Why did she have to remind herself of that? Now she could think of nothing but the settee at her country house, when Nicholas had introduced her to the most exquisite pleasure…

  “I have come to explain—” Nicholas began.

  Her stomach dropped. Perhaps Madeleine was wrong, and Nicholas would be the first man to expound, in person, just why he had ended an affair after leaving it so abruptly.

  “There is no need,” she said hastily, before he could crush her heart, and her hopes, forever.

  “No, there is. I have a great deal I must tell you. And I would beg your indulgence. I do not have much experience at explaining my actions, or my ill-mannered behavior.”

  She tilted her head, intrigued at how earnest he was. “So I shall be your first?”

  His grin was wonderful to see, but it was a brief one. “I have done quite a bit of reflection, about your question of Stir-Up Day and the wishes I made. I said I did not have any, but I did.” He crossed the room, standing by the fire surround, facing her. “I wished I had been more aware of a young woman’s tender heart when I carelessly rejected her declaration to me. I wish I had been there to prevent her decision to try to drown herself. I have wished these things many times over the past years.”

  “Oh, Nicholas.” She knew at once these were the regrets that were seared into his soul, the ones he would not permit himself to burn away with the yule log.

  “Regrets are the worst sort of wishes, though, because they keep a man mired in the past, reliving choices that can never be changed. They have him believing he can only control his future with rules meant to prevent anyone else from losing their heart.”

  When he shook his head in a bemused fashion, Juliana said softly, “There is a great deal of irony for Lord Misrule to insist on rules.”

  His lips lifted in another grin. “I did say I had to make the rules suit my purposes.”

  “And did they?”

  “For a time. But then they had me fleeing when I wanted nothing more than to greet the sun each day while holding you in my arms. These rules ensured I would spend the rest of my life with nothing but regrets.” He hesitated, watching her intently before adding, “This was never just an affair, Juliana, and I shall always rue the day I told you such a falsehood.”

  Juliana’s heart skittered in a rhythm fueled by hopefulness. “What shall become of these rules?”

  He moved several paces closer. “I had thought to consign them to the fires of hell. But perhaps it will suffice if we devise some sort of ceremonial bonfire.”

  “That large?” she teased.

  “I could not bear for them to rise from the ashes. We must see that they have been banished forever.”

  “It seems you have done so already.”

  He closed the distance between them, until he was standing directly in front of her. Once again he made her breathless, his hopeful expression piercing her soul. His next words did as well.

  “It is not enough to rid myself of regrets. I also want to make every one of your wishes come true. Starting with a dark-haired man being the first to cross your threshold at the New Year.”

  Juliana could wait no longer. She launched herself into his arms. “I have thrown myself at you since Lady Radwell’s ball, and I am doing so now, not entirely certain I should. But I cannot ever regret telling you this: I love you immensely, Nicholas. I always will.”

  “I have done nothing truly worthy of your heart’s trust. And I wish you could love someone less flawed than I am.” His gaze softened. “But I am a selfish man, and I must have your heart as my own. I love you, Juliana. I adore every single thing about you. I will never again be foolish enough to think I could bear a future without you or your love.”

  “Nicholas, how can you possibly consider yourself flawed? That is the most perfect declaration of love ever delivered.”

  He held her tightly, smiling at the same time. “I shall repeat it whenever you wish.”

  “Then once each day, at the very least.”

  Nicholas stepped back, but only so he could gaze into her eyes. “I know it is much too soon to ask you, but I must know that you are mine. Will you marry me, Juliana? Of course we can wait a decent interval for the actual nuptials—”

  She sniffed, doing her best to appear dignified at this most important of moments, but she was too happy. “Yes, I will marry you. This very moment, if I could.”

  He laughed, and the unmistakable happiness shining in his eyes made her heart pound out of control. “You do not wish to wait, to heighten the anticipation?”

  “You know I do not have the patience for it. I don’t know that I ever will. Not where you are concerned.”

  “And you know I shall always do everything I can to prolong it.” Nicholas squeezed her again. “I must admit I cannot wait for the day when we take our sons to find the finest of yule logs, and I will do my utmost to ensure they have no regrets to chalk upon it each year. I shall also warn our daughters to be wary of rogues trying to steal kisses under the mistletoe.”

  Juliana pretended to frown. “While I will tell our daughters that rogues have the best kisses, and inform our sons that life will be dull indeed if they heed all of their father’s dire warnings.”

  “Every Christmas shall be a happy one,” he declared, sealing the vow with a heartfelt kiss.

  She sighed with complete contentment. “How could it ever be any better than this one?”

  Epilogue

  One year later

  Juliana placed the baby in its cradle, watching as their daughter slept so peacefully. She heard Nicholas walk up behind her, and she relished how he wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck.

  “She’s as beautiful as her mother,” he murmured.

  “And as willful as her father,” she replied. “She does not like to sleep in her own bed.”

  He laughed, careful to bury the sound in her hair. “I told you from the beginning I always did the sleeping portion in my own bed.”

  She turned in his arms until she was facing him. “Fortunately your bed is now my bed too.”

  His eyes twinkled. “I am glad for that as well. I cannot bear to leave you, even when you are sleeping so blissfully.”

  Juliana yawned. “I have not slept blissfully for several weeks. Your daughter has seen to that. But I love her too much to have the nurse attend to her every need.”

  “I do as well.” Nicholas took her hand and gave her palm a fervent kiss. “But perhaps we could retire to our own bedchamber, for a short respite, while Charlotte continues to slumber with her nurse to watch over her.”

  “That is an excellent suggestion.” Juliana kissed him. “Though now that the tower windows have been fitted with glass…”

  His face lit with genuine pleasure. “You are going to scandalize the ton, Lady Blaise.”

  “Their tongues have not ceased wagging since our wedding, which was declared ‘shockingly hasty’ on more than one occasion.” She nearly snorted. “Did they think I could not see them blatantly counting the months on their fingers too?”

  “It was slightly more subtle than the fortune hunters decrying the wealth that had slipped through their hands.”

  She laughed and pulled him into her arms. “I love you, Nicholas. And I shall always love that we found each other at Christmas.”

  “I always count this season as my favorite.” He kissed her with such passion she could not breathe for several moments. “I love you, Juliana. I am the most fortunate man ever born.”

  He regarded her as intently as he had at their first meeting. She felt her knees weaken in the same fashion they had back the
n. “I may not be able to wait until we reach the tower,” she said breathlessly.

  He clucked his tongue, his eyes dancing with mischief. “A year as lovers, and you still have no appreciation for anticipation.”

  “I appreciate my husband,” she replied. “The best lover I ever had.”

  He grinned. “You did indeed choose wisely. I should pen a little missive to Lady Radwell—”

  Juliana’s eyebrows shot up.

  “To thank her for having such a crush of an event that we both escaped out of doors at the same time.”

  “And perhaps you should pen a missive to me. It has been much too long since I have received one of your wicked billet doux.”

  “I prefer whispering those words in your ear.” He leaned closer and began to recite, in detail, how he planned to spend their time together once they reached the tower.

  Juliana’s face heated instantly. She grabbed Nicholas’s hand, hurriedly explained to Charlotte’s nurse that they would return later, much later, and then she was racing out the door, filled with joy and love and optimism—and impatience to be alone with the most wonderful husband in the world.

  About Donna Cummings

  I have worked as an attorney, winery tasting room manager, and retail business owner, but nothing beats the thrill of writing humorously-ever-after romances. I reside in New England, although I fantasize about spending the rest of my days in a tropical locale, wearing flip flops year-round, or in Regency London, scandalizing the ton.

  Visit author website

  www.allaboutthewriting.com