A Lady’s Christmas Rake

by Andresen, Tammy

  “It could be him?” Catherine chuckled, her own worries temporarily suspended by Christine’s newest concoction. Then she turned her head, and her voice sobered. “And there is Eleanor with her mother,” she added, gesturing to the left end of said table. “Does the mask not look exactly like the one Christine described?”

  Wesley shrugged, glad that Catherine was by his side for he could not for the life of him remember what the bloody thing ought to look like. However, what was even more telling than the mask was the fact that young Henry Waltham couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off Eleanor.

  “Aw, the poor girl looks miserable. Where is Lord Stanhope?” Catherine looked around before catching sight of him as he came walking over.

  “Good evening, dear friend,” Lord Stanhope greeted them with a slight incline of his head. “Your sulking face I would recognise anywhere.” An amused curl to his lips, his friend then turned his gaze to Catherine and his eyes seemed to narrow. “Christine Dansby, I presume.” His voice held a questioning tone as his gaze returned to Wesley.

  Shrugging, Wesley held his inquisitive stare. “For now.”

  “I see,” Lord Stanhope mumbled. “Do I dare ask what you’ve planned for tonight?”

  Closing his eyes for a moment, Wesley simply shook his head. How was he to know? After all, it was not his plan!

  “I see that your sister and mother have accompanied you tonight, my lord,” Catherine said as she glanced over to the two ladies in question.

  “Indeed,” Lord Stanhope replied, his eyes still shifting back and forth between them clearly in the hopes of unveiling their secret plans. “Would you care to join us for a refreshment? I’m certain my sister would be overjoyed to see you again,” he suggested politely before a hint of sarcasm came to his voice. “After all, during the week you spent with us, the two of you were nearly inseparable.”

  While Wesley graciously or at least as graciously as he could accepted his friend’s invitation, Catherine averted her eyes, a suppressed smile on her lips.

  Following Lord Stanhope, they bid the ladies a good evening. While Eleanor seemed genuinely delighted, Lady Stanhope merely gave them a curt nod and mumbled something that could have been a greeting−however, Wesley was glad he hadn’t been listening too closely.

  With a glance at Christine and William, who were just then speaking to Robert Dashwood and his new wife−Robert had been quite changed since the last time Wesley had seen him!−Wesley procured a glass of wine for Catherine before forcing his attention toward Lady Stanhope. Curse Christine and her ludicrous plans!

  “This is truly a marvellous event,” he beamed, hoping his voice sounded genuine. “It reminds me of that New Year’s Ball at Stanhope Grove, was it three years ago?”

  “Four,” Lady Stanhope offered, and from one second to the next, her sour expression slid off her face. “It truly was, wasn’t it?” she trilled, her eyes distant as she clutched her hands before her chest like a young girl. “I admit I have long since thought to host another such ball.”

  “Oh, what a wonderful notion!” Wesley exclaimed enthusiastically, which earned him a confused look from his friend. However, all that mattered was that with Lady Stanhope’s attention diverted, Catherine could use the opportunity to steer Eleanor away…and into the arms of young Henry Waltham.

  Trying to follow Lady Stanhope’s raptures about their legendary New Year’s Ball as well as her ideas for another equally impressive event, Wesley found his thoughts wandering to the one woman who was at the root of all of this.

  Currently, Christine was twirling around the dance floor in his brother’s arms, and although Wesley knew better than anyone that neither one of them had any romantic intentions toward the other, he could not help but feel a tinge of displeasure. How much worse would he feel if Christine actually made good on her promise…or rather threat…and take a lover?

  In that moment, Wesley felt certain he would die on the spot…or rather that he would kill the lucky man without thinking about it twice!

  “Would you not agree?” Lady Stanhope asked, her eyes looking at him as she waited for an answer.

  Wesley swallowed as he had no idea what the lady was talking about. However, her demeanour suggested that a favourable answer would be most agreeable to her, and so Wesley nodded his head vigorously. “Absolutely, my lady. There is no question.”

  A satisfied smile came to Lady Stanhope’s face, and Wesley found himself relax before his eyes drifted across the room where Henry Waltham was just then leading Eleanor into the ballroom. “If you’ll excuse me?” he asked, then bowed to Lady Stanhope as well as his friend and quickly departed.

  “Did everything go as planned?” he whispered to Catherine as he came to stand beside her, eyes following the young couple as they took their places on the dance floor beside Christine and William.

  Catherine nodded. “I think she did notice that I was not…myself,” she whispered, an amused smile on her lips. “But her excitement overruled any suspicions she might have had. Are they not adorable?”

  Lost in each other’s eyes, Eleanor and Henry floated on air across the dance floor, completely unaware of the world around them. “They remind me of you and William,” Wesley said with a smile.

  Catherine drew in a steadying breath before she nodded her head. “I can only hope…”

  “I know,” Wesley mumbled as he noticed his brother craning his neck, his eyes searching for something…or rather someone. Wesley chuckled. Most likely, for the woman by his side.

  “I’m glad Christine made us do this,” Catherine said, her eyes shifting back and forth between the beaming couple and the man she loved. “I cannot imagine why her mother would oppose the match. Henry is a good man. He’s not like his brothers. And seeing your child happy should be more important than…anything.”

  Drawing in a slow breath, Wesley nodded, bracing himself for what was to come. Then he offered Catherine his hand and led her into the ballroom.

  Only a moment later, the dance ended and the music stopped, and under the mistletoe in the centre of the room stood Eleanor and Henry, eyes aglow with happiness while their cheeks burned with embarrassment.

  Under the encouragement of the surrounding guests, Eleanor and Henry exchanged a quick kiss. Unfortunately, it was a far cry from the kind of kiss a couple in love would have dreamed of. However, it would have to do.

  Once more offering Catherine his hand, Wesley led her onto the dance floor, and they stood up for a cotillion, William and Christine only two couples down from them.

  “He’s staring at you,” Wesley whispered, trying his best to suppress the laughter that threatened.

  Blushing slightly, Catherine glanced at her husband. “He is, isn’t he?” she whispered back. “I only wish I knew why.”

  “Because he loves you,” Wesley replied, a hint of exasperation in his voice. If only they had all spoken their minds from the very beginning, none of this would have been necessary! Curse Christine and her ludicrous plans!

  “Do you truly believe so?”

  “I know so,” Wesley insisted for it was all but written on his brother’s face.

  When the dance ended, Wesley pulled Catherine’s hand through the crook of his arm and led her across the dance floor without delay. “Will,” he called, and his face split into a big grin. “I’ve come to trade.”

  Rolling her eyes at him, Christine slapped him playfully on the arm, a spark of amusement in her eyes as she snapped, “What a crude remark! I certainly understand your mother’s relief that you’re not the first-born son.”

  Putting a pained expression on his face, Wesley clutched his chest as though mortally injured. “You wound me, my lady.” Then he bowed to her. “May I have this dance, nonetheless?”

  “You may,” Christine said graciously and took his hand, “although you do not deserve it.”

  As he led her away, Wesley couldn’t help but laugh−although he tried to do it as inconspicuously as he possibly could.

&nbs
p; “Would you care to enlighten me as to what brought on this rather inappropriate behaviour?” Christine asked with an air of mock indignation.

  Grinning, Wesley pulled her close as the orchestra began to play the first notes of a waltz. “You should’ve been an actress,” he whispered as his thumb gently brushed over the back of her hand, “for you’re truly amazing.”

  Holding his gaze, she took a slow breath, all amusement leaving her face. “Is that a compliment?”

  “Nothing but,” he assured her.

  Uncharacteristically touched, Christine nodded before her eyes left his and she gazed over his shoulder. “Do you think it will work?”

  In no doubt whatsoever with regard to whom she was referring to, Wesley nodded. “Did you forget that it was your plan?”

  “Even the best plans can fail,” she conceded, a rather sheepish grin on her face, “…sometimes.”

  “He loves her,” Wesley said, holding her gaze. “Even a blind man could see it.”

  “I know.” A soft smile came to her lips. “Thank you for your help. Eleanor looked truly happy when Henry led her onto the dance floor. As did he.”

  “You’re welcome,” Wesley said, and his hands tightened on her.

  Surprised, she met his gaze, a hint of confusion in them as she searched his face.

  Wesley swallowed. “You still haven’t given me an answer.”

  As her gaze dropped from his, she took a deep breath, and a slight tremble shook her body. “Wesley, I…I…”

  As the last notes of the waltz evaporated into thin air, Christine lifted her head and met his gaze…before she stepped back and turned her attention to the centre of the room.

  For a moment, Wesley closed his eyes as exhaustion washed over him. Was this truly a futile attempt? Was there any way for him to win her hand? Or was he simply fooling himself?

  Then excited murmurs drew his attention from his inner turmoil, and following Christine’s line of view, he found his brother standing under the mistletoe in the centre of the large ballroom…Catherine by his side−the way it ought to be.

  For a moment, they seemed lost in each other’s eyes, and Wesley wondered if the love that existed between them could ever exist between Christine and himself. Had she ever looked at him like that? Had he? He honestly could not say. His heart, however, ached for it, and he knew, just like Catherine, he could not give up.

  Glancing at the surrounding audience a bit uneasily, William pulled Catherine closer before he leaned down and kissed her the way a husband would kiss his wife. However, their audience at large had no idea that they were in fact husband and wife, and so it was not long before whispers of outrage echoed through the vaulted room. Eyes narrowed, and frowns appeared on a number of faces. Glancing at Christine, whose eyes also took in the change in the air, Wesley swallowed as the atmosphere slowly shifted from jolly delight to hostile accusation.

  “What now?” he whispered to her.

  Without answering him, she took a few steps closer to the couple under the mistletoe.

  When they finally broke their kiss and a sense of shocked reality returned to their eyes, Christine strode forward without a moment's hesitation. “Isn’t this a marvellous night?” she beamed as confused eyes turned to her…after all, as far as the rest of the assembly was concerned, she was William’s wife.

  Unimpressed, Christine raised her hands and removed her mask…and just as quickly, open hostility was replaced by stunned silence before delighted laughter echoed through the room.

  Then Christine turned and looked at Catherine, gesturing for her to remove her mask as well, and with a hesitant look at William, she did so.

  Instantly, the room erupted in smiles and laughter, compliments and praise.

  “Wonderful!”

  “What a marvellous idea!”

  “Did anyone notice they’d switched places?”

  Eyes fixed on his brother, Wesley swallowed as William’s eyes narrowed and his face turned pale. Had he already understood the full meaning of what had just been revealed to him? Wesley wished he knew what his brother thought in that very moment. He could only hope that one day he would be able to look back at this day and laugh as well.

  * * *

  Suddenly the centre of attention, Christine saw the strain on her sister’s as well as brother-in-law’s face as the other guests crowded around them, eager to exchange a word or offer their congratulations on such a marvellous idea.

  Trying her best to shield them, Christine was beyond grateful when Wesley called for the carriage and directed them out the door with a sure hand.

  And yet, after the loud hustle-bustle at the earl’s ball, the silence that fell over them in the small confines of the carriage felt even heavier. Although Christine and Wesley tried to explain, William barely paid them any attention.

  Looking at her sister, Christine found her almost shivering in her seat, fear clearly edged in her eyes as she uneasily glanced at her husband.

  At a loss for the first time in her life, Christine walked over the threshold into the front hall of Harrington Park, her mind frantically searching for a way to make William understand that it had never been their intention to deceive him. Would he ever forgive her sister? Would Catherine ever forgive her?

  Spinning on her heel, Christine looked from William to Catherine. “Let us sit and talk about this,” she suggested, panic in her voice as the full meaning of what she had done finally dawned on her.

  Then she stepped into the parlour, raking her mind for the right words to explain that… Again, she shook her head. What else could she possibly say? How could she make William understand and ensure that her sister’s heart would not be broken for the second time since her husband’s accident?

  “Maybe we should leave them alone,” Wesley suggested as he stepped into the parlour behind Catherine and William.

  “But−”

  “We should go,” he insisted, his eyes gentle as he took her by the elbow and led her out of the room. “They need time alone.”

  Christine cast one last look at her sister’s miserable face before the door closed and Wesley led her up the stairs. “What if he cannot forgive her?”

  “He loves her.”

  “Yes, but what if he cannot forgive her?” Christine insisted, leaning heavily on Wesley’s arm as all strength seemed to leave her. “What if−?”

  “Even if he does not forgive her right now,” Wesley interrupted, turning down the corridor toward Christine’s room, “he will eventually. Sometimes, things take time. We’ll need to be patient.”

  Gnawing on her lower lip, Christine grumbled, “I hate that. I’ve never been patient. Waiting is like torture.”

  A soft smile came to Wesley’s face as they stopped in front of her door. “Then you know how I feel.”

  Holding his gaze for a moment, Christine swallowed, knowing only too well what he was referring to. “Maybe we should go downstairs and see what’s going on,” she suggested, desperate to return to their former topic of conversation. After all, it was much safer. “Maybe they need us. Maybe−”

  Shaking his head, Wesley stepped in her way as she started down the corridor. “They need time alone, and you need rest.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” Christine snapped, trying to brush by him. “It was my plan, my doing, I cannot just go to bed and leave my sister alone to answer for all of this.” With every word, her voice was growing more panicky, and Wesley’s hands tightened on her arms to keep her from running off. “She needs me. I’m her sister. We’ve always done everything together. I cannot leave her alone now. She needs me. I−”

  Determination hardened his features, and in the next instant, his mouth came down on hers, silencing her.

  Lost in her rambling, Christine had not seen it coming, but it had been the very thing she’d needed. Her arms rose to his shoulders, then snaked around his neck, pulling her closer against him as she kissed him with the same passion that echoed in his heart.

  Her mind
instantly abandoned all thoughts of her sister and brother-in-law, and all she could think about was the last time they’d kissed. It had been too long since then. Why had they waited this long?

  Wesley’s arms held her tightly as he walked her backwards until her back came to rest against the door to her bedchamber. Heat burned in her body as his hands touched her and his mouth devoured hers.

  Gasping for breath, Christine clung to him. “Have you changed your mind?” she whispered as her lips sought his once more.

  Instantly, his hands stilled, and he pulled back, his jaw tense as he held her gaze. Then he swallowed, regret clearly edged in his eyes, and took a step back, his hands releasing their hold on her. “I have not,” he said, drawing in a slow breath. “Have you?”

  Feeling the same emotions well up in her chest that she could so plainly read on his face, Christine shook her head. “I can’t marry you, Wesley.”

  “Why not?” He gritted his teeth as his eyes burned into hers. “Do you not…care for me?”

  Christine swallowed, knowing that she cared for him a lot more than she would ever allow herself to admit. “I never wanted to get married because I know it would not make me happy.” She shrugged apologetically as the look on his face slowly broke her heart. “It’s not part of the plan. It never was,” she whispered, forcing back the tears that threatened.

  Although she had expected regret, confusion or even anger, Christine was not surprised to see a gentle smile come to his face as he took a step toward her. “Maybe you need a new plan,” he said, softly taking her hands in his. “Things change, Chris,” involuntarily, her heart skipped a beat as he called her by the nickname that had always made her feel special, “life changes. Do not reject me simply because I’m not part of your plan.” He held her gaze, and his hands closed more tightly around hers. “Reject me if you do not want me.” He swallowed, then took a step back and released her hands. “Think about it.” Reaching around her, he opened the door to her chamber. “Good night,” he whispered, taking another step backwards, “and I swear I’ll drag you back up here on your hair if I find you anywhere near the parlour.”