Yuletide Happily Ever Afters; A Merry Little Set Of Regency Romances

by Jenna Jaxon

  “As you wish.” The butler bowed and left the room, likely to get help in order to haul away two-thirds of the library that was strewn about the room.

  In turn, Mena had never felt more free. If this change in her character continued, she might even redecorate the entire house. She’d always thought the earthy tones of brown, tan, and green were a bit maudlin. Perhaps some violet, or even orange…

  The butler suddenly reappeared. “My lady, there is a gentleman here to see you.”

  Mena instinctively reached up to pat her hair. “Who is it?”

  “He says his name is Mr. Solomon, although he didn’t have a calling card to offer.”

  Mena’s pulse sped up, but she had to smile. No doubt the Colonies didn’t adhere to the proprieties like England did. “Show him into the front parlor, if you will, and bring some refreshments. I’ll freshen up and join him in a few minutes.”

  She nearly ran to her room and began rummaging through her dresses. She bit her lip, for nothing seemed good enough to wear, but in the end, she chose a cheery yellow dress. It complimented her dark hair well, but it suited her mood most of all.

  After her hair was pulled back into a simple chignon, she made her way back downstairs.

  Julian was standing by the window overlooking the street when she entered the parlor. Although there was a teacart present with cucumber sandwiches and scones, he hadn’t taken advantage. “Lady Lipscomb.” He bowed politely. “I thought to wait for you to join me.”

  Mena felt a blush steal across her cheeks. Dear Heavens! It had to have been decades since she’d felt the flush of youth. “How kind of you, Mr. Solomon.”

  He winked. “I have my moments.”

  The heat in her face rose by degrees. “Would you like me to pour?”

  He waved his hand.

  Mena picked up the teapot and did her best not to spill the contents. She was shaking like a leaf for some reason. “Cream or sugar?”

  “Neither for me.”

  His smile made her toes curl in her slippers. How was it that he could affect her so? She was a grown woman with a married daughter, for God’s sake. Surely, the time for youthful excitement had long passed her by. She was a sensible woman, who had no time for flights of fancy…

  Mena handed Julian his cup, and their fingers brushed. It was like lightning danced across her skin.

  With a gasp, she jerked her hand back, causing his tea to spill down the front of his jacket. “Oh! I do apologize! I swear I am so clumsy of late!” She knew she was rambling, but as she grabbed a towel and began to wipe down his damp lapels, she realized that he wasn’t saying anything.

  He was likely mortified at her behavior.

  But when she dared to glance up at his face, his eyes were anything but condemning. Those green depths smoldered with a dark intensity that instantly stilled her hand, and her lips parted in a silent invitation.

  But as the seconds passed and he didn’t make a move toward her, her cheeks started to burn for an entirely different reason. Humiliation. She cast her eyes downward. “I’m sure you didn’t expect to get scalded when you arrived here today—”

  “Don’t worry about the tea.” Julian stood. “I didn’t really come here for that.”

  She held her breath, still keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the carpet at her feet. “Then why are you here?”

  He didn’t reply at first, although she felt the slight brush of his hand at her temple before he grasped her chin and gently turned her face to his. He lowered his head and kissed her on the lips. It was so light and brief that she could have imagined it, if it wasn’t for the blood singing through her veins. “I’m not sure you’re ready to find out,” he whispered, before he dropped his hand and stepped back. “I’ve only dropped by today with an invitation from my sister to join us for a dinner tomorrow night.”

  “Are you—” Mena had to swallow before she could continue. “Staying with her?”

  “For now.” The conversation stalled, and Julian withdrew a paper from his pocket. “This is the address. Say eight o’clock?”

  Mena nodded.

  “Until tomorrow, Lady Lipscomb.”

  It wasn’t until he was gone that Mena sank down onto a chair, her legs suddenly too unsteady to stand any longer.

  Had she truly kissed Julian Solomon?

  ***

  As promised, Mari and Robbie arrived that evening to take her to Vauxhall. As they prepared to depart, Mari glanced about the foyer at all the books that had yet to find new homes. “Do I want to know?” she asked.

  “A bit of spring cleaning, is all.”

  Marigold’s eyebrows lifted. “It’s December.”

  Mena shrugged. “I like to get an early start.”

  Her daughter merely shook her head, but said no more as they walked down the steps and entered the Daniels’ coach. Mena sat beside Marigold while Robbie sat across from them.

  Though Mena tried to keep her voice low, her anticipation was bursting at the seams. “What did the doctor say?”

  Mari’s lips twitched before she gave up the fight and smiled fully. “You were right.”

  Mena couldn’t keep a laugh from bursting forth as she hugged her daughter.

  “I take it she just told you the news,” Robbie noted dryly, although he wore a contented smile of his own.

  “It’s wonderful news, to be sure!” Mena exclaimed. She couldn’t have been happier, but even so, a bit of moisture found its way to her eyes. “My baby is having a baby of her own.”

  Marigold squeezed her hand. “And you’re going to be an amazing grandmother.”

  ***

  After a short ride, they were deposited at the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens with its private dinner boxes and infamous Lover’s Walk, where more than one couple might venture off into the dark to have a midnight rendezvous away from prying eyes. Mena had never been down one of those paths, as she’d always walked the straight line of propriety, but it wasn’t as if she’d never been tempted.

  However, such a dark lure was more popular in the spring months when the Season was at its height of activity. As it was, the area was populated, but not as much when it was warmer. However, the overall ambience was just as impressive during the holiday season when it was opened up to the public for a brief time to showcase various talent acts and celebrate the magic of the season. The entire park seemed lit up from within to rival that of the bustling city around them. It never failed to amaze Mena, even though she had passed through the entrance many times.

  As Robbie led the way to their private box for a good view of the evening entertainment, Mari pulled Mena back. “Did anything arrive yesterday after I left?”

  Mena debated on whether or not to tell her daughter the rather sensual bath she had enjoyed, surrounded by candlelight, but since she was alone, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. Once she did, Mari’s eyes widened. “This may turn out to be more than just a secret admirer. I think this man truly cares for you. Are you sure you don’t know who it could be?”

  Again, Mena thought of Julian, but discounted him immediately. “No, but I think I’m going to try to put together a list—”

  “Perfect!” Marigold said excitedly. “This weekend is the Norrington Ball. We should be able to gather several names—”

  Mena cut her off. “We?”

  Mari rolled her eyes. “Naturally. As your daughter, I have to approve of anyone who wishes to court my mother.”

  Now it was Mena’s turn to scoff, although she didn’t say anything as they took their seats.

  It wasn’t until Mari’s query registered in her mind, that Mena realized she hadn’t yet received a gift for that day. Maybe the excitement from her prospective suitor had already worn off…

  About that time, a group of gypsy women appeared from a tent across the gardens. Mena thought it was the beginning of the entertainment to come, but when they steadily drew closer with their colorful scarves and half-hidden faces, she began to suspect that this was a private
performance.

  Nine ladies dancing.

  A few murmurs rippled throughout the crowd, and indeed the women were rather sensual with their hip movements. They had bells on their fingers that they chimed in accordance with their gyrations. If Mena could think of one word that might describe their motions, it rather mimicked the act of lovemaking.

  Suddenly, Mena felt as if the temperature in the box had risen, but more so when one of the women leaned forward and held a card out between her painted nails. “For you, my lady,” she whispered, before they all slowly faded away.

  “That was rather…interesting,” Robbie murmured. Both his wife and his mother-in-law ignored him.

  “What does it say?” Mari practically squealed.

  Mena opened the card, anticipation humming through her entire body.

  Eight days remain.

  I want to make sure this is a Christmas to remember.

  Forever yours.

  Marigold sat back in her chair, a dumbfounded look on her face. “Oh, my.”

  Mena didn’t say a word.

  DAY FIVE

  There were some who believed that a person’s entire life could flash before someone in the blink of an eye when one died, but what about when the person yet lived? After being treated to such an erotic display the night before, followed by a rather awkward silence from her daughter on the carriage ride home some time afterward, Mena began to think of her life and everything that had led up to that point. Now, as she turned her attentions toward cleaning the attic, her current circumstances had her frowning.

  It baffled her that anyone could be so forward with their intentions. She had never been one to inspire ballads, but now she was the object of some sort of bold fascination. While it had been flattering at first, as the days drew closer, she began to wonder if she was setting herself up for heartbreak. Or worse. Even a lark would be better than some crazed libertine who believed that he might be in love with her.

  But since she didn’t know the sender’s identity, there was no way to make the gifts stop, so she would have to contend with the attention for now.

  As if that didn’t make her sound ungrateful. Some women would probably love to be showered with such lavish presents, but Mena had always been practical by nature. It was how she’d been raised.

  It was another reason all of this was so hard to swallow.

  Mena coughed as she tore down another curtain. Dust motes flew through the air, making her wonder how long these drapes had been hanging here unattended. However, to be fair, she had never asked the servants to clean here, as she didn’t see much point in it. Mena wasn’t sure why she was here now, except that she just needed time to refocus on everything and just…think.

  It was true that this mystery suitor was changing her. The fact she was considering redoing the entire townhouse was evidence enough, even if she hadn’t torn apart the library and given away most of her husband’s tomes.

  But was this sudden change of heart truly a bad thing?

  At this point, she wasn’t sure.

  “My lady,” the butler appeared in the doorway. “You asked me to let you know when it was six o’clock.”

  Mena pushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes and stepped down from the ladder she’d been standing on. “It’s that late already?” She glanced outside and realized that the sun was indeed already set. “My goodness,” she murmured. She’d been in this dusty old attic all afternoon, yet it had only seemed like a couple hours.

  She wiped her hands on her apron and walked past the servant, who fell into step behind her. “Your bath is already prepared, Lady Lipscomb.”

  “Thank you,” she returned sincerely. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Anders.”

  He merely offered a bow in return before they parted ways at her chamber. After soaking her sore muscles in a long, warm bath, Mena allowed her ladies’ maid to assist her into a simple but elegant maroon velvet gown. Julian had made it sound as though she was attending an informal family dinner, so she decided to forgo any of her more expensive jewelry and settled on a simple cameo necklace.

  She asked for the carriage to be ready by seven-thirty, and when she descended the staircase, her driver was waiting for her. She sat in anticipatory silence as she traveled from her townhouse in Berkeley Square to the address in St. James. While it wasn’t as affluent a neighborhood as Mayfair, it was certainly regal in its own right, surrounded by Green Park. Many notorious highwaymen used to haunt its grounds in search of unsuspecting prey some years before, but after their ultimate departure, the area was quite pleasant.

  The carriage finally rolled to a stop at Number 21, but before her driver could set down the steps, a strong, ungloved hand was reaching out to help her alight. “I’m so glad you could come, Lady Lipscomb.”

  Mena put her white-gloved hand in his and smiled. Looking at his chiseled lips, she imagined the feel of them pressed against her own. She quickly glanced away, although she gracefully accepted the arm he held out to her as he addressed her driver, “Your ladyship has no more need of your services. I will see that she gets home safely.”

  When her servant turned to her in query, she gave a brief nod of her head, although she turned to Julian with a raised brow. “That was rather highhanded of you, Mr. Solomon.”

  “Terribly.” His grin was so boyish that any annoyance she might have felt instantly dissipated like smoke on the air.

  Once they were in the foyer, Mena got a glimpse of particularly elegant surroundings before she handed over her outer wear to a waiting footman. It wasn’t until she turned around to face Julian that she froze. His gaze was glued to her chest. “What is it?”

  Julian cleared his throat. “Nothing.” After shaking his head slightly, he said, “Come. Everyone is already in the dining room.”

  She glanced down at her empire-waist dress in concern. True, it was a bit lower in the neckline than she preferred, but it was the current fashion. The modiste had assured her of that when she raved about how the shade brought out her coloring when she’d purchased it last month.

  Even so, she felt that something was wrong, for his mouth was suddenly pinched. “I’m not late, am I?”

  He looked at her curiously. “Did I give that impression?”

  “No, you merely looked at me oddly just now.”

  He paused and turned to her, his green gaze roaming the swell of her breasts. “I was merely admiring the view, and wishing that we were alone.”

  Mena had no reply to that, so she remained silent until they entered the dining room. The petite blonde that Mena recalled from the park the day before instantly made her way over to them.

  “You must be the Lady Lipscomb I’ve heard so much about.” She smiled brightly. “I’m Julian’s sister, Ingrid Cray.” A brown-haired man with equally brown eyes and a friendly smile joined her. “This is my husband, Joshua.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you both,” Mena returned cordially. “But please, call me Mena.”

  After a few more pleasantries were exchanged, Julian led her to the table and pulled out a chair for her, before he took the seat to her right.

  “I hope you don’t mind if our children and their governess, Miss Ames, joins us,” Ingrid said with a sheepish grin. “I fear we don’t stand on ceremony by banishing Penelope and Jonathan to the nursery. Then again…” She shrugged. “…my husband is in trade, so we aren’t usually on many of the ton’s guest lists.”

  Mena smiled. “It’s no problem at all, Mrs. Cray. I enjoy children. While it’s true that society’s rules are a bit more strict for women like me, I spent quite a bit of time in the nursery with my own.”

  Ingrid took a sip of her soup. “Yes, Julian told me of your son’s sacrifice at Waterloo. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.” Mena’s throat grew tight. “Jacob has been gone for two years, but I still miss him every day.” She took a deep breath. “But Mari is happily married and about to become a mother herself.”

&nbs
p; Ingrid’s mouth fell open. “You can’t say that you’re about to be a grandmother? You look entirely too young for that.”

  Mena wiped her mouth with her napkin. “I appreciate that, although I don’t always feel young anymore.”

  “Julian says that you stop living only when you stop trying.”

  “Does he?” Mena turned to Julian who offered her a scandalous wink. She couldn’t help but laugh. It felt wonderful. She had denied herself such small intimacies for too long. If her mysterious suitor hadn’t managed to awaken something new and exciting in her, then the teasing glint in Julian’s green eyes certainly did.

  The rest of dinner passed in very much the same way. Light conversation with a bit of merriment and teasing between brother and sister. It was obvious that they shared a special bond. Mena had always lamented the fact that she’d never had any siblings. She supposed that’s why she’d always felt as though all of the responsibility fell on her shoulders growing up. Until now, she’d never allowed herself to simply sit back and enjoy herself without thinking of someone she might offend, or some action that might be construed as unladylike. With Julian and his family, she could just…be.

  After they were finished eating, Mena expected to leave the men to their port and cigars, while she and Ingrid retired to the parlor, but again, this was something else they didn’t stand on ceremony for. Everyone retired to the parlor, even the governess and the children. Penelope and Jonathan presented Mena with a grand puppet theatre performance that had her clapping merrily by the end. Afterward, the chatter did not dispense. They played charades and a few other parlor games before the children finally gave out and the governess ushered them to bed.

  Afterward, the two couples played cards until the clock finally struck midnight. “Oh, dear, is it that late already?” Mena gasped. She’d been having so much fun that the time had run away from her.

  “Are you afraid of turning into a pumpkin?” Julian teased.

  “Hardly, but I should probably get home. I wouldn’t wish to overstay my welcome.”