Snowbound Wedding Wishes: An Earl Beneath the MistletoeTwelfth Night ProposalChristmas at Oakhurst Manor (Harlequin Historical)

by Allen, Louise

  ‘I most certainly am.’ He was already picking up snow; soon they were running like children around the barn, laughing and stumbling in the deep drifts, pelting each other with snowballs.

  It came to a sudden end when Theo tripped over some hidden obstacle and went crashing face-down in the snow.

  ‘Oh!’ Jenna ran over to help him. The smile had vanished from her face. ‘Oh, Theo. Are you hurt?’

  He pulled himself up. ‘Not in the least,’ he said. She’d called him Theo. She’d...

  She was dusting him down, trying to get the encrusted snow off his coat, his sleeves. ‘You will catch cold,’ she was saying worriedly. ‘Look at you, my lord, you look like a snowman, you will be freezing...’

  ‘Jenna,’ he said softly. ‘Jenna.’

  ‘What...?’ Her voice trailed away. He wiped some snow from her delicious tip-tilted nose and suddenly his strong arms were around her. ‘I’m not cold at all,’ he whispered. ‘Try me, Jenna.’

  And suddenly his lips were on hers, as warm and wonderful as she remembered. His hands had stolen round to the back of her waist, trapping her, and through her garments she could feel the heated power of his body. The frosty air nipped at her ears and nose, but flames of desire uncoiled inside her. The soft, feathery kisses he bestowed were followed by the teasing lick of his tongue; she gasped and resisted, but Theo raised a hand, his fingers drifting across her cheek before they glided to the nape of her neck, holding her ready for what came next.

  A real kiss.

  Jenna barely had time to draw in a shaky, fractured breath before his lips met hers in a passionate caress that instantly flared out of control. Her response was instinctive, inevitable, as was his; he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. He pushed her coat apart, to run his palms over her shoulders through the thin lawn of her shirt; then his big warm hands moved on to cup and cradle the weight of her breasts until they ached almost painfully for so much more than his touch.

  With a groan from somewhere deep in his throat, Theo swung her up in his powerful arms and carried her into the small barn. He kicked the door shut on the cold air and the outside world. He wanted her. He didn’t know how the devil he was going to make this work out, but he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone, or anything.

  He set her tenderly on her feet in the hay-scented barn. He started kissing her again and this time she responded fiercely, her hands finding his warm body beneath his coat, her sweet lips caressing and coaxing in return. Theo was easing off her coat, unbuttoning her shirt, kissing her swollen lips again while letting his hands slip down to her breasts and tease their tightening peaks until a long, deep shudder ran through her.

  Dangerous, a little voice whispered inside her. Impossible. She simply could not afford to feel like this. But he wasn’t to know that. And—she wanted him. She wanted him so badly, even if it was only for a short while. Something to remember, for the rest of her life.

  He was strong, tender and honest—at least he’d made no false promises of ‘for ever’—and if this was all she could get, so be it. To long for love was a weakness she’d resisted since childhood—yet she had never felt so safe, so cherished as she did when he drew her to the hay-strewn floor in his arms, his kisses and caresses bringing her to a fever pitch of need. Soon his mouth was on her breasts, spearing sensation straight to her womb. She gripped him tightly, her hands roving across the tense muscles of his back. She heard herself softly moaning as his fingertips grazed up her thighs, tormenting her. ‘Theo. Please...’

  He buried his free hand in her hair, his dark eyes fiery with passion. ‘Jenna. Say now if you want me to stop. Say it, now. I can tell you’ve never—’

  But she interrupted, whispering, ‘I want you, Theo. I need you.’

  Already he was easing himself into her, gentle yet so strong as his mouth pressed kisses to her face. She gasped and went very still when she felt the blissful wonder of him inside her. Filling her. Completing her.

  The joy as they moved together took her breath away. She had never known anything so shatteringly beautiful existed. Wave after wave of ecstasy built inside her as he continued to pleasure her, his eyes burning into hers; his husky voice telling her how beautiful she was, how adorable. Then his mouth moved, hot and warm, over her breasts, and she was crying out his name as he took her to the peak of pleasure and beyond. He rode out his own powerful climax, then Jenna pressed her face into his shoulder as the afterwaves of pleasure continued to ripple through her.

  He held her close. Wanted to hold her close for ever. Hell. He had never felt like this about anyone before in his life. He simply couldn’t bear to let her go. What use was his wealth without this beautiful, passionate girl, who’d shown him that possessions—riches—were nothing without responsibility, and love?

  ‘You are mine, Jenna,’ he breathed almost harshly. ‘Mine.’

  She wrapped her arms around him. No one else’s, ever, my love. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted this never to end.

  But Theo was already on his feet, straightening his clothes and striding to the door. ‘I hear voices,’ he muttered.

  Two men were coming up the hillside, Rollaston and his friend. ‘Hey, Theo!’ they called.

  Theo hurried back to Jenna. ‘I will make this all right, believe me,’ he said fiercely, taking her hand and kissing it. ‘Stay in here.’

  Theo went to meet them, buttoning up his coat. ‘Gentlemen.’

  ‘Theo,’ smirked Rollaston, ‘what have you got in that barn? Or should I say—who? Is it by any chance the pretty fair-haired wench who works in your kitchen? Are you averse to sharing, old fellow?’

  ‘Shut your mouth, Rollaston, or I’ll shut it for you.’ Theo’s expression was dangerous.

  ‘God, Theo.’ Rollaston backed away. ‘Nothing to make a fuss about, bedding a serving wench. Nothing to even think about. Marriage, now, that’s a different question. We all know you’ve got to marry well, within the next few months, or you’ll lose your new-found fortune, isn’t that right?’

  Silence fell.

  ‘Do you know,’ Theo said, gritting his teeth, ‘I’ve a feeling the road from the Hall might be cleared of snow at last. And I think it would be an extremely good idea if you got on your way by daylight. Don’t you?’

  They looked at him, frowning, but Lord Dalbury seemed to be in an ugly mood, so they nodded quickly. ‘No need to get in a lather,’ said Rollaston. ‘We’ll just go and tell the ladies and get our things together.’

  As soon as they’d turned to head down the hill, Theo hurried back to Jenna. She was shivering as if she’d never get warm. ‘Is it true?’ she whispered. ‘What they said?’

  ‘Jenna, listen. You must take no notice of them, they’re idiots and fools...’

  ‘Do you take me for an idiot?’ she cut in. ‘Is it true, that you’ve got to marry soon or you’ll lose everything?’

  He closed his eyes briefly. ‘It was a condition of Lady Hasledene’s will, yes. But Jenna—’

  ‘You knew all this. Yet—’ she waved towards the barn

  ‘—you let all this happen. And what did you intend to do with me next, pray? Keep me here, readily available, while you choose your new bride and bed her also? Will you marry poor Lady Celia? Is she—highborn enough for you, even though you despise her?’

  ‘Please, Jenna, listen—’

  She was pushing him aside, cramming her hat over her tangled hair and heading for the door. ‘Leave me alone, damn you, Theo!’

  ‘Jenna!’ He thought he’d seen tears in her eyes. He tried, one last time, to think what he should say. But by then she was gone, hurrying and stumbling through the snow.

  Oh, Theo. I was going to accept your offer, Theo. I was going to agree to become your mistress—because I thought at least you were being honest with me!

  Sheer pain fractured Jenna’s heart. This was unbearable.

  * * *

  Theo returned to Northcote Hall to see his guests’ carriages being loaded in the
courtyard. Lady Celia was alone in the parlour, dressed for the journey. When she saw Theo, she moved hesitantly towards him.

  ‘Theo,’ she said, ‘thank you so much for everything.’ She tried to smile, but her voice betrayed her. ‘Though I know that you never really wanted us here.’

  ‘Lady Celia,’ he began.

  But she put her hand on his arm. ‘Be happy, Theo,’ she said, then turned with a sigh at the sound of her mother’s voice.

  ‘Celia, there you are! Theo, my dear, we’ll see you in London soon, I trust?’

  Theo made the usual comments of a polite host as he saw them on their way. But all the time, he was thinking of Jenna.

  She knew now, about the one condition Lady Hasledene had laid on her heir. Marry well, within the next few months, or you’ll lose your new-found fortune.

  Lady Hasledene’s ideal gentleman was, she’d stated quite specifically in her will, one who was married—or about to marry—a young woman of suitable breeding and virtue. Up and down the country marriageable misses had latched on to the fact that the newly rich Lord Dalbury was in urgent need of a bride.

  Lady Celia was merely the most persistent of their number.

  Hence his flight to the wilds of the Derbyshire hills, to give himself time to decide whether he wanted to be part of Lady Hasledene’s machinations or not. Then he had met Jenna.

  He thought he would never forget first seeing her as she led those children down the hill with their holly, in her man’s coat and boots, with her long fair hair just starting to stray from her man’s cap, and those lovely gold-brown eyes wide with apprehension as she watched him approach...

  Jenna. His blood raced at the memory of their lovemaking in the barn. At the recollection of her soft, low cries as she clung to him and surged towards rapture...

  Planning on playing the same sort of tricks as your mother, is that it?

  Those ugly words—Hewitt’s, on the night he and his friends had intended raping her—hit him like a punch in the gut. Her mother. He had to speak to Jenna, about her mother.

  And her father.

  * * *

  The minute his guests had left, he went hunting for her, but found no sign. He hurried up to that little room in the turret, but it was empty, and the jasmine wreath had vanished.

  He found Aggie, in the kitchen. ‘Aggie. I need to know where she’s gone.’

  Something in his voice made Aggie step back from him a little. ‘Oh, my lord. You’ve guessed it all now, haven’t you?’

  ‘I know that Jenna’s father was Lord Northcote. But why didn’t anyone tell me?’

  ‘My lord,’ Aggie faltered, ‘I think Jenna thought you might not allow her and her mother back here, if you knew. She felt she brought shame to the place...’

  ‘Far from it,’ breathed Theo. ‘Did Lord Northcote treat her mother well?’

  ‘In his way he treated her well, my lord. But he was often elsewhere, you see. He used to forget how important he was to her.’

  Like me, thought Theo bitterly, and most of my kind. No wonder Jenna had refused to be Theo’s mistress. She had guessed he would just use her, as her father had used her mother. ‘And he left them nothing in his will?’

  ‘No, my lord! As I say, he was a busy man, and he died suddenly, in a riding accident. Jenna’s mother was devastated by his death—she was blind to his faults. But then Hewitt was put in charge here, and what he did to Jenna’s poor mother... It was unspeakable, my lord. She was never well after that, never strong...’

  And lately, Hewitt had turned his evil attentions on Jenna. Theo was breathing hard. ‘Aggie. This is important. Where has she gone?’

  ‘She wouldn’t tell me. She and her mother, they’ve taken the gig, my lord—she said she’d get it back to you. But I don’t think she plans, ever, to return!’

  * * *

  Theo stood outside, where the moon flickered ghost-like on the snow-covered roofs and gables of the Hall. Bitterly he recollected all his own mistakes. Most of all he remembered Jenna’s horror when Theo asked her to be his mistress, and she’d whispered to him, Is it so very obvious?

  He’d not understood those words then, but he did now. She’d meant, Is it so very obvious that I’m a whore’s daughter?

  He simply had to find her. For the first time in his life, he’d found a place and a person worth fighting for. The arrival of Rollaston and the rest had been simply an ugly intrusion into a world he’d realised was truly precious. Looking round the courtyard, he felt he could still see the farmers and their wives merrily dancing beneath the stars at the Christmas Day party, could hear the children sweetly singing carols, could feel Jenna in his arms.

  This place was beautiful, and so was she. He needed her—he loved her—and he was going to do his damnedest to get her back, this time for good.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘Look, Mama.’ Jenna was carefully lighting a fire in the little grate. ‘I bought some coal this morning, and soon we’ll be quite cosy here.’

  She had found a garret in Buxton for them to rent, but even with the fire the room was damp and cold. Out in the streets the sun was starting to turn the packed snow to slush, but the air was still raw. Her mother was distraught.

  ‘I promised him I would stay close to the Hall, always,’ she kept whispering. ‘I promised I would always remember him...’

  Jenna calmly took her frail hand and warmed it with her own. Her poor mother thought Lord Northcote had adored her, when really, in his thoughtless way, he’d simply used her, leaving her penniless on his death, and prey to anyone—especially Hewitt.

  They had to get away from here now, because Hewitt had sworn revenge. But where could they go? How could she earn a living for them both? Whether she tried for posts of governess, companion or anything else, no employer would welcome the encumbrance of her poor, sick mother.

  Yet all this paled into insignificance, compared to the fact that her heart was broken.

  In meeting Theo, she’d felt the rebirth of hope. She’d begun to believe that perhaps he really was what he’d seemed to her from the first—a man of courage and honesty, who wanted to put his neglected estate to rights, and who did not give a fig for what society thought.

  She’d been wrong. His own interests—chiefly, his inheritance—came first. We all know you’ve got to marry well, within the next few months, or you’ll lose your new-found fortune...

  Within months! That was what really hurt. Even while he was making love to her—oh, her insides helplessly melted just at the memory—he knew he would be getting married soon. To whom was clearly not a matter of much importance to Lord Dalbury—and neither was she.

  A hard lesson learned.

  Her mother was asking for tea, but Jenna had forgotten to buy sugar, so she hurried out to the market only a street away and was on her way back when two children ran eagerly up to her. ‘Miss Jenna! Miss Jenna!’

  They were from Northcote village; they’d been with her on the holly-collecting expedition when she’d first seen Theo.

  For a moment she felt she could scarcely breathe, such was the raw emotion in her chest. ‘Jack. Ellie.’ She forced a smile. ‘What brings you here?’

  ‘We’ve been looking for you, miss! Here’s a letter!’ they cried excitedly.

  Quickly she unfolded the sheet, then turned back to the children. ‘Who gave you this?’ But they had gone.

  She looked at the letter again. She read it slowly, aloud. It was an old-fashioned word puzzle, a riddle.

  My first word’s not false,

  My second’s not hate.

  My whole you shall find—at Hob Hurst’s Gate.

  I understand you are looking for employment. Be there on Twelfth Night, at seven o’clock.

  Her pulse was racing. Could it be Hewitt, up to his tricks? But it wasn’t his crude writing, and it was delivered by the children, who detested Hewitt and his men. Who, then?

  * * *

  On Twelfth Night she left her mother alone, after tellin
g a kindly neighbour that she was going out for an hour. It was a clear frosty evening and the stars sparkled overhead. Dressed in her man’s coat and boots, she climbed steadily up from the town to the place that was known as Hob Hurst’s Gate. She gazed all around.

  No one. Nothing. Just for a while she’d hoped... She’d been a fool to come. Someone was playing a trick, that was all.

  Suddenly she heard footsteps crunching up the path behind her. She whirled round, her heart thumping with apprehension.

  Theo.

  He stretched out one lean hand, then stopped. Stayed where he was, a few feet away from her. ‘Jenna. I owe you an apology.’

  ‘No. No, you owe me nothing,’ she whispered. ‘Those children. It was you?’ She’d known it was him all along—who else? Oh, this was going to be difficult. She’d thought she was strong; she hoped she was immune to him, but...

  ‘Yes. I asked them to find you. Jenna, I didn’t expect you to leave the Hall so suddenly.’

  She shivered. It was no good. The moonlight on his tall figure made her weak with wanting him. But weakness now was something she could not afford.

  ‘Didn’t you?’ she shrugged. ‘I thought I might become—inconvenient.’

  ‘Oh, Jenna.’ He stepped closer. ‘I was a selfish fool, to ask you to play the role of servant to my truly hateful guests. Even more a fool, to try to make a more intimate bargain with you.’

  ‘I hope you’re not going to offer me money again.’

  He caught his breath. ‘No. God help me, no. That was one of the worst of my mistakes. An unforgivable insult...’

  ‘You know, don’t you?’ she said steadily. ‘That I’m Lord Northcote’s daughter. I assume you got Aggie to tell you?’

  ‘I worked it out for myself—though I should have realised it far, far earlier. And the wretched man left you and your mother in poverty!’

  Jenna stood very still. Theo found that he wanted to hold her tight. Wanted to pull her into his arms in that ridiculous old coat of hers. He wanted to kiss the sheer hurt from her sweet face and her haunted eyes.

  ‘You think you understand. But you don’t,’ she whispered, her voice husky with emotion. ‘My mother lived for the times he came to stay. She loved him, so much.’