A Yuletide Regency (A Timeless Romance Anthology Book 21)

by Regina Scott

  “I want to dance.” She waved her hand in the air with a flourish.

  “Shall we?” He stood, and she jumped up.

  “Yes! Oh yes.”

  She had been taught to dance, and she was quite good at a few of the reels and line dances, and she could adequately perform the waltz. Really, what harm could there be in bringing her out in society? She loved it so much.

  The reaction of others. He reminded himself how cruel people could be. But if handled appropriately, with great care, with the ducal name behind her, Penelope could have a positive social experience. The only event left of the holidays was a great Twelfth Night dinner at Carlton House, hosted by that eccentric, Lord Smithson. He shook his head. They needed something smaller.

  A servant stood at the entrance to the family sitting room.

  “Enter.”

  The maid curtsied and delivered a note into his hands. “They said it was important, from the house of Aster.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he thanked the maid and then tore it open.

  Stephen, it is just I. Please know I had nothing to do with Penelope’s visit to the ball this evening. I would never betray her in such a manner. I suspect Uncle heard me let slip her name once when I decried everything that had transpired with the Agatha situation. Her name and yours are safe with me, though I cannot guarantee the same from my detestable uncle. He seems bound and determined for Salsbury misery, and for that, I much belatedly apologize on behalf of all the rest of the Asters who wish you every peace and happiness.

  Yours,

  Catherine

  If we are going to do something so scandalous as send notes, I feel we have now earned the right to use first names. I hope you don’t mind.

  Chapter Eleven

  The prince regent had outdone himself on behalf of his friend. Catherine had never seen so much greenery or mistletoe. Already, upon entering the hallways leading to the great dining room, she had seen five quite scandalous kisses under boughs of mistletoe. She shook her head. The ladies at Almack’s would be shocked. A few would likely be in attendance.

  Penelope only laughed at the exorbitant displays of affection. She walked with such beautiful decorum, Catherine could only smile. But her insides quaked at what Stephen would do when he saw them arrive. But no matter, she would make amends for the awful manner in which the Asters had treated the Salsbury family. She would introduce Penelope in society in such a way they would have to love her or be thought less of. She swallowed. At least, that was the hope. Luckily the prince was in agreement. He said the feud between two of his ducal families was a nuisance. He said he would do whatever it took to get the blasted Asters and Salsburys to agree on something.

  Catherine wrapped an arm across Penelope’s shoulder. “You look lovely.”

  Penelope held her head up higher. “Thank you.”

  Catherine smiled. “You know, here, they must all call you Lady Penelope.”

  They stood at the entrance to the dining hall. Fires raged in both hearths. The room felt warm and cozy. She knew all ducal families to be invited as well as others of Prinny’s set, the wilder bunch from the looks of them. She looked away from a man who pulled a finely dressed lady onto his lap. Giggling, she rose quickly, but Catherine knew the night would progress in a similar manner. She took a deep, fortifying breath, telling herself over and over this was a good idea. She gave their names to the footman.

  * * *

  Stephen searched the room for Lady Catherine. He couldn’t resist her no matter what her family had done, no matter how angry he had felt. Once he had decided that he would try to bring Penelope out in society more, he could hardly fault Catherine for Penelope’s presence the other night. Her letter showed true intentions in her heart. He was much relieved to receive it, yearning as he had to see her again.

  A pang of guilt nudged him. He understood his father’s angst, his desire to at last drive the Asters to the ground. That was one reason for the alliance with the Fenningways.

  Once his father had learned that the Aster estate was suffering, he knew the power the Salsburys had over them with their joint ownership of the plantation. Stephen knew that with just a few more years and a hold-out of sale on the property, the Asters would be no more. They would have to sell the estate piece by piece. What’s more, his father had been buying up the Aster debt in secret. And it was now in Stephen’s power to complete the plan his father set in place years ago.

  And he would have, without qualms, had he not met Lady Catherine.

  The master of ceremonies called out, “Lady Catherine Aster and Lady Penelope Salsbury.”

  He almost ran into the couple in front of him, who stopped still at the announcement and stared at the ladies as they entered the room. Everyone around him had turned their attention to the entrance. His sister and Lady Catherine stood at the head of the room, grinning to each other as though they were pleased to suddenly be the center of attention.

  He moved toward them. They probably were pleased. He shook his head. Yesterday, this brazen act by Lady Catherine would have infuriated him, but now he just admired her bravery.

  He arrived in time to hear Catherine say, “Look, Penelope. Smile at all our new friends.”

  Penelope did and nodded her head in the most regal way.

  “Well done. You look like the duke’s daughter you are.”

  She giggled. “This is fun.”

  Catherine squeezed her hand. “Let’s find our table, shall we?”

  “Stephen!” Penelope called out. Those nearest heard and raised eyebrows, but nothing more. Everyone could expect much more shocking behavior from others as the night progressed.

  Penelope closed the distance between them. “Catherine has brought me to the prince’s house. We are here for the dinner.”

  Salsbury bowed over her hand. “You look lovely, Penelope.”

  She curtsied. “Thank you.” Then she giggled again in her hands and whispered, “This is fun!”

  He turned to Catherine, eyes full of questions.

  “She wanted to come.”

  He grunted. “And you had nothing to do with it?” He could not let her get away with so brazen an act without his permission.

  “Well, I might have had a few things to do with it.”

  “She helped me do my hair.” Penelope turned so that they might see it.

  “You hair is beautiful, and that’s the truth.” He offered his elbows so that they each might take one. Then, for Lady Catherine’s ears only, he said, “This is risky. I can’t know what you were thinking. A smaller dinner might have been better.”

  “So you aren’t furious?”

  “I might be furious.” He teased.

  She faltered. “I wanted to do this for you. To make up for my awful family.”

  Then his face broke into a smile, and he winked. “I’m actually quite pleased with the situation.” He enjoyed the sudden relief that played across her features.

  “You are?” Her eyes showed such a large amount of hope, he almost pulled her to his chest.

  “I thought of something similar just last night.” He approach their chairs. “Looks to me that we are not sitting together.” He turned to his sister. “But you will be by Lady Catherine.” She smiled so large that he grinned. He held out her chair and then Catherine’s in turn. “I’m just up the table.” He pointed and looked meaningfully at Catherine until she blushed and looked away.

  Catherine introduced Penelope to everyone near them. They looked curiously on at her overexuberance but otherwise seemed to accept her presence. Stephen assumed many had heard of her entrance with Lord Aster the other evening. Stephen sat farther back in his chair, let his shoulders relax, and ate a few bites of food. Perhaps this would all work out better than he hoped.

  After a delicious dinner, servants served slices of the cake, the yearly cake of Twelfth Night. And Lord Smithson announced a game. “The pea and the bean are hiding in someone’s slice of cake, and one belongs with the other. We all know th
at. A waltz for the lucky couple, and I will join you.”

  Excited murmurs filled the room as people picked at their cake, looking for a hidden treasure.

  Stephen kept his eye on Penelope, counting the seconds until someone else had the small legume in their cake, someone besides his sister.

  Then the lady next to her shouted. “She’s got it! She’s found the pea.”

  Everyone clapped, and Lady Catherine stood.

  Stephen let out all the air in his chest and sat back in relief.

  Lord Smithson gestured that she come forward.

  “Wait here,” she told Penelope.

  Lord Smithson rubbed his hands together with a huge smile. “Now, who will join Lady Catherine?”

  A long, weighty silence filled the room, and when no one shouted out, a wild feeling of possibility energized Stephen. He dug into his cake, mashing through it with his fork until it looked more like a great nondescript pile. And then his fork hit something solid.

  “I have the bean.” He shouted, happier about this turn of circumstances than any other.

  His mother gasped nearby, and Catherine’s uncle likely fumed wherever he sat. But Stephen had never been happier but for one thing. Penelope. He could not leave her to sit alone.

  Lord Smithson called out. “Come now, we haven’t got all night. I promise, Salsbury, Lady Catherine is quite lovely up close.”

  A low rumble of laughter rolled through the room.

  “While he is making his way slowly up to the front, I would like to announce my choice of a dance partner this evening. May I introduce Lady Penelope Salsbury.”

  Penelope stood as though she had won the grandest prize of all, clapping and squealing and running to the front.

  Lord Smithson continued, “This exquisite beauty has the heart of a child. And she will always be welcome in any of the homes that I would care to visit.” His gaze traveled across the room, and then he smiled at Penelope. “Would you like to dance, my lady?”

  She giggled in her hands and then widened her eyes. She glanced at Catherine and then stood taller and executed a low and graceful curtsy. “I would be delighted.”

  The room responded with pleased chuckles, and a huge wave of relief filled Salsbury. Penelope would be accepted. For now.

  “What a ridiculous show of sentimentality.” Lord Aster’s voice scratched through him like a horsehair brush. “Lady Catherine is already spoken for.” The hairs on the back of Stephen’s neck stood on end as a rush of anger rolled through him. Salsbury had had enough.

  Lord Aster continued in his nasally voice. “Now is as good as time as any, I suppose, to announce our happy news. She is engaged to be married—”

  Stephen stepped forward. “I don’t know how that could be when she told me herself she was not spoken for. I am thinking of asking for her hand myself.”

  Lady Catherine gasped and held a hand to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Stephen hoped that boded well for him and not the opposite.

  Lord Smithson placed a hand on Stephen’s shoulder. “I have it on the best authority, she would be pleased with that arrangement.”

  Then she blushed a brilliant shade of red.

  “But her guardian—”

  “He supports the suit completely. Now come, man, you are dampening the joy of the evening more the longer you stand there making noise with your mouth.” He clapped his hands, and the music began.

  Lord Smithson led a very proper-looking Penelope out onto a cleared area of the floor.

  Stephen pulled Catherine close to him, wrapping his arm around her back. “We’ve created quite a stir.”

  “We would, wouldn’t we?”

  “But we’ve been introduced.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m certain of it this time.”

  She nodded. “I’ll give you that.” She waited, and he could tell she expected more from him.

  He chuckled.

  Then she huffed out a breath. “You mentioned something to the room . . .”

  Then he let his face break into the grin he had been hiding. “To think, this all began with your dance with a stranger. Just think if I hadn’t made the best mistake of my life.” He raised her hand to his lips. “You’ve made me the happiest of men. Thank you for protecting Penelope as you have. She is now safe from censure.” Penelope’s giggle carried over to them. “And happy as I’ve ever seen her.”

  “It was the least I could do. I wish to repair some of the damage done to your family by mine.” She looked down. “I don’t know how you can abide being near me.”

  He waited until she looked back up into his face. “My dear Catherine. What I cannot abide is being apart from you.”

  She sucked in a breath and widened her eyes.

  He loved that he could create such a reaction. “I meant what I announced to your odious uncle. I wish to try and win your hand, to court . . . and marry you.” He cleared his throat, suddenly unsure. “If you’ll have me.” A moment of insecurity filled him. She would have to deal with unpleasantness, a possibly large amount of difficulty. They would both be faced with family obstacles. But he would never be happy if they didn’t try. “I love you, Catherine. I can’t live without you by my side. Please, marry me?”

  Her mouth twitched, and she closed her eyes. His heart sank. He couldn’t tell if her response was positive. He waited, trying to decipher her expression, leading them gently in the waltz. She waited so long, he began to worry. But when she opened her eyes, their brilliant depths were filled with joy. She said, “Yes, I would love to marry you. Come call at my house, sit in my parlor, and disturb all and sundry. Stephen. I love you too.”

  He thrilled to hear it, and with the racing of his heart, he pulled her up against him, her lovely laugh filling the air around them. Then he kissed her. He pressed his lips to hers with all the intensity he dared with the whole party looking on. And when he and Catherine pulled apart, everyone cheered.

  They stepped apart, and she curtsied and he bowed, which brought more laughs. Then Prinny called out, “They’re engaged!”

  * * *

  As the dinner party was nearing a close, a fuming Lord Aster asked to speak with them both. “I absolutely refuse this union. You do not have my permission.”

  Lady Catherine stared at the man who used to rule her life. “I don’t need your permission, Uncle.”

  Stephen squeezed her hand. “But we would like his blessing, would we not?”

  She couldn’t imagine why she’d care, but something in Stephen’s eyes gave her pause, so she stayed silent.

  He reached into an inside pocket and pulled out a stack of papers. “I have here several reasons why you might want to consider our union a happy alternative.”

  Her uncle’s eyes narrowed. “Alternative?”

  He started reading each slip of paper. “Lord Atwater over a matter of two thousand pounds.”

  Lord Aster’s face paled.

  “What is this, Uncle?”

  “Lord Smelling, fifty pounds. Lord Tellington, one hundred pounds.” Stephen shuffled through the stack. “Some in here are quite significant, some small, but rest assured, Lord Aster, I own them all.”

  Lord Aster stood taller and fisted his hands. “You bought up our debts.” Then he sneered. “Seems fitting. You should have to lose so much to get the wife you desire, the Salsbury way, is it not? To lose out.” His smug and calculating manner made Catherine’s shoulders tighten in anger. How could he be so brazen when the future of the Aster estate rested in Stephen’s hands?

  She stepped nearer to Stephen. “Why don’t we assume all the Aster assets and combine them into our own Salsbury estate?”

  “We could.” Stephen tapped the pile in his hand and then placed it back into his inside pocket. “Though who would the Salsburys be if we didn’t have our rivals the Asters to contend with? At the very least, I do feel there is one Aster we could all do without.” He pulled a different paper out of his pocket. “I have proof of your nefarious and illegal dealings in the matter
of the Jamaica plantation and with regards to several of your other dealings of late. I don’t plan to press charges if I don’t have to see your face too often.”

  Her uncle fumed. The tips of his ears were almost purple. But he remained silent for several moments. And then, through clenched teeth, he said. “And just where would you like me to go?”

  “Don’t you have a holding in Wales somewhere? Perhaps you could spend the remainder of your days managing that property. I will have a steward come check in with you to keep things on the up and up, of course.”

  Her uncle nodded his head and turned from them. His stiff gait spoke of his great restraint as he made his way through the crowded room. When he had turned the corner and was out of sight, Catherine let her shoulders relax. “Oh Stephen, you were wonderful! How did you accomplish such a thing?”

  His face clouded with guilt. “It was my father. I’m afraid he has been planning for that moment, the demise of the Aster estate, for many decades.”

  Her heart pinched, but she could feel only gratitude, thankful for this magnanimous man in her life. “Will you simply acquire all the properties?” She could only feel pleased that she and her husband would be managing her family’s situation.

  He stared out across the room, then he turned to her with a new light in his eyes. “I think your brother deserves a chance to make his mark and our two families to make things right between us.”

  “What?”

  His eyes had travelled up above her and watched something across the room.

  Her heart skipped as her brother made his way to them and held out his hand. Watching the Aster duke and the Salsbury duke shake hands, she held a hand at her heart, hardly believing such a thing was possible. Then those nearby began clapping their hands, joined by others as the news spread until the room was filled with applause, Penelope’s loudest of all.

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  An award winning author, including the GOLD in Foreword INDIES Book of the Year Awards, Jen Geigle Johnson discovered her passion for England while kayaking on the Thames near London as a young teenager. She still finds the great old manors and castles in England fascinating and loves to share bits of history that might otherwise be forgotten. Whether set in Regency England, the French Revolution, or Colonial America, her romance novels are much like life is supposed to be: full of brave heroes, strong heroines, and stirring adventures. Follow her at https://www.jengeiglejohnson.com.