Holly and Hopeful Hearts

by Caroline Warfield

  Her sister gave a weary sigh. “Honestly, Grace, do you have your head in the clouds? I just spent the last five minutes discussing our wager.”

  A short laugh escaped Grace’s lips that caught Nicholas’ attention. “Are you ready to turn over that lovely bonnet?” she hinted with a sly glance at her sister, knowing Miranda would never let the matter go so easily.

  “Ha! That will hardly be likely, Gracie.” She grinned as if she had already won their bet. “Since you obviously heard not a word I said, I was discussing the topic of who shall be the lucky gentleman I will get to propose to me by the time the charity ball rolls around to ring in the New Year.”

  “That is less than two weeks away. Do you not think that is overly confident? Just who is this unknown gentleman you think to bend to your will?” Grace reached for her wine glass and took a sip.

  Miranda’s brow rose at the insinuation that she would fail in her quest. “I thought I would choose the Duchess of Haverford’s son, Lord Aldridge. He would do nicely as the gentleman to help me win our wager.”

  Grace almost choked on her wine. “Surely you are joking. Why, you have not even met the man.”

  “But meet him I shall, and when I do, I shall have him down on one knee proposing. Not that I would actually go through with it, mind you. I want to be in love with the man I wed.”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, my darling sister, but I have heard from Her Grace’s companion, Miss Grenford, that her son does not plan to arrive until Christmas Eve.”

  A worried frown marred her sister’s features. “Oh? Well, no matter, that still gives me plenty of time.”

  “I can already see how pretty that bonnet will look perched upon my head,” Grace taunted. “Maybe we should double our wager since you seem so very sure you shall have won our bet by the charity ball.”

  Miranda raised her hand to her chin. “I am listening.”

  “How about my new blue redingote against… say… that divine fur muff Adrian just purchased for you?” Grace took another sip.

  “That is not fair. My muff is barely out of the box! I had planned to show it off the day we walked to Christmas services.”

  “Well, if you are afraid to lose the muff, our original wager can still stand. I will still be the victor whether or not you care to sweeten the bet.”

  “I did not say I would not accept this newest proposition,” Miranda declared in a huff. “Very well. You have yourself a wager.”

  Grace laughed. “Then we have a deal. The muff will complement the bonnet I will win from you just famously.”

  “I wonder how it would feel to actually be married to the Marquis of Aldridge?” Miranda murmured with a far-off look.

  Grace set her glass down. “The Marquis of Aldridge is out of your league, Miranda. His reputation as the Merry Marquis is known throughout society. Surely even you have heard of him.” Her hushed tone held a warning that even her sister could not ignore, but ignore it she did, the little fool.

  “Every man must sow his wild oats before he settles down to wed.”

  Grace sighed and leaned forward to whisper in her sister’s ear to drive her point home. “Miranda, dear, please do not fool yourself into thinking that the marquis will fall for your ploy. You do not wish to be on the receiving end of his attention, for it will only leave you terribly disappointed, if you are that lucky. My word, the things I’ve heard about his exploits I dare not repeat here amongst mixed company.”

  “I can handle him,” Miranda declared, giving Grace a push and putting some distance between them.

  “No one, and I repeat, no one handles Aldridge. Better to set your sights on someone else.”

  Miranda waved her hand as though she had already made her decision despite Grace’s advice. “You have no say on who I may choose, but be prepared to lose our bet. I shall be bringing him to one knee by the charity ball.” Her pert little nose lifted a notch.

  “You are so innocent in many ways, Miranda, and are giving me a headache. All jesting aside about our silly wager, I do not want to see my sister hurt or despoiled. Do not let it be said that I did not warn you.” Grace excused herself. She would need to speak to Adrian, so he could keep an eye on Miranda. Heaven forbid the little fool was found in a compromising position with the Merry Marquis. He would never marry Miranda under any circumstances, if becoming wed was even a remote thought in the man’s head.

  Grace made her way to her room, the headache a reality by the time she reached the third floor. Elsie was just laying out her nightrail and turning down the bed, although it was still too early to retire.

  Her maid bobbed a curtsey. “My lady, I did not expect you at this hour.” She proceeded to turn up the wick on the bedside lantern.

  “I have an errand for you, Elsie, which requires your discretion.”

  “Of course, Lady de Courtenay.”

  “Please find out which room belongs to Lord Nicholas Lacey and when he retires for the evening. I have something of his that I need to return to him.”

  “I can take care of such matters for you, my lady. No need for you to bother yourself,” Elsie offered in concern.

  “No. I am afraid this is something I must do myself.”

  Elsie left, and Grace went to the trunk at the foot of the bed. Going through the stack of clothes, she reached the bottom and pulled forth Nicholas’ jacket, which she had brought to return to him. There was barely a hint left of the cologne he had been wearing that meaningful night of their first meeting. She brought the garment to her nose and inhaled while lovely memories swirled around in the recesses of her mind.

  She waited what seemed like hours before Elsie returned with the information Grace needed. After taking up the jacket, she peered into the hallway to see that it was empty. If she were lucky, she would make it to Nicholas’ room without being seen. Only the fickleness of fate would now determine if anything would come of the connection that was between them. She prayed she was not being as foolish as her sister.

  With a heavy sigh and a firm resolve to mend whatever conflict lay between them, she left her room.

  Chapter 9

  Nicholas shrugged out of his jacket and threw it upon the chair by the fireplace. A soft muffled sound, followed by the movement of the garment, had him peering over the back of the chair. He picked up his coat and saw a small ginger tabby kitten curled up in a fur ball of fluff. Its tail twitched.

  “Mew.”

  The poor little thing was the color of marmalade, with dark stripes from the tips of its ears to the end of its tail. Bright green eyes stared up at him.

  “Mew,” the kitten repeated.

  Nicholas had always been fonder of dogs than cats, but he picked up the animal all the same. “Where did you come from?” he asked.

  Blanche would just love this little baby to coddle. The small beast began to purr ferociously, content when Nicholas began to scratch behind its ears.

  Nicholas tugged at his cravat with his free hand until he heard a soft knock at his door. Unsure who was disturbing him, he went to the door to open it, and the feline took the opportunity to scamper out of his arms and out the door.

  The fact that the kitten decided not to remain in his company was hardly something to be concerned about. The lady who stood at his open door, however, was.

  He frowned. Apparently the silent signals he had been giving the woman were not clear enough, since she now took a chance of being found out by knocking at his door at this hour.

  “Grace…” Her name came out of his mouth before he could take the word back.

  “Nicholas…” His name, as it passed her lips, almost caused his heart to stop its beating.

  He opened the door wider to let her decide if she would enter or not. Apparently he was a glutton for punishing himself because he had no idea what the hell he was doing allowing her entrance into his bedroom of all places.

  Grace hesitated, but only an instant, before she took a step forward and then several more. Making her way
toward the fireplace, she turned to face him and he realized her purpose. His missing jacket was held in her hands. She appeared reluctant to return the garment to its rightful owner, given that she was caressing the fabric with her fingertips as though it was a most prized possession.

  “Why are you here, Lady de Courtenay?” he choked out, still surprised that the married woman who had occupied his thoughts both night and day was truly standing in his room.

  Grace held out his garment. “I thought it was well past time I return this to you,” she murmured in a soft purr much like the kitten that had just departed for parts unknown.

  Nicholas stepped forward. “You could have easily had a servant deliver it.”

  “Yes, I suppose I could have, but then I would not have the opportunity to right the wrong between us. I do not understand why you are so angry with me.”

  Nicholas, at last, came to his senses, seeing that she continued holding his coat for him to take. “I am angrier with myself than with you,” he growled out like a wounded animal.

  He made a grab for his jacket, and, when he did so, their fingers brushed, sending a wave of heat through him in a downward spiral. A part of Nicholas sprang to life, giving evidence how much he wanted the woman before him. He warred within himself as his mind made some feeble attempt to rationalize his desire to remain aloof.

  “You should not be here, Grace. No good can come of your presence here.” He turned his back to her, not trusting himself to refrain from pulling her into his arms and bed.

  The foolish woman surely had no sense. If she had, then she would not have had the nerve to place her hand upon his shoulder. Heat seared straight to his heart, and other places farther south.

  Nicholas whirled around so quickly Grace barely had time to take a breath, let alone sound an alarm. He captured her about her waist until he maneuvered her up against the door. She let out a startled gasp when he pressed himself intimately against her. There was no way she could mistake the desire he felt for her. The sound of her heavy breathing took away whatever last bit of sense he had. He lowered his head to ensnare her lips beneath his own.

  This was no gentle kiss like their first had been. No, this was a possession… fire colliding with ice. The first taste was all consuming heat and passion. A devouring of two souls who were meant to be together, yet were parted by circumstances beyond their control. A beginning and an end all wrapped up into one delicious kiss that had Nicholas wishing it would never end, wishing that Grace was his.

  His hands reached up and began pulling the pins from her coiffure until her heavenly locks tumbled down in a silken display of seduction. He had been right about her hair cascading well below her waist, and his fingers threaded through the length much like he had dreamed about doing night after night.

  He deepened their kiss, and a soft groan escaped her. Such an echo of his own emotions gave Nicholas the confirmation he needed to prove once and for all that Grace was just as affected as he was. Her hands stroked his back while his muscles bulged from her touch, and he knew he had reached his limit of sanity where Grace was concerned. She belonged with him!

  No. That thought was all wrong for so many reasons. She would never be his, for Grace belonged to another. With that thought screaming across his mind, he tore his lips from hers. A small piece of him felt vindicated when she appeared disappointed that their kiss would not continue.

  “You need to leave before I forget I am a gentleman and take what I know you are not truly offering by being here,” he ordered harshly, pushing away from her.

  She took ahold of his arms. “Nicholas, please, I can explain everything if you would but listen to what─”

  “Enough of this, Grace. You come to my room in the dead of night, alone. I am only a man, for God’s sake, and even I have a shred of chivalry left in me to know that I will not take another man’s wife.”

  Her hand placed on his chest was once more his downfall as the warmth of her fingers came in contact with his skin at the opening of his shirt. He stood still as any statue, until her hand moved upward and around his neck to play with the hair that touched his collar. “Nicholas,” she whispered in a tone that broke his resolve, “you do not understand. I am not─”

  “Mine,” he snapped. “You will never be mine, and I refuse to be put in the position of fighting a duel with a man who would have every right to call me out for you just being here.”

  “If you would just listen to me, I can explain the situation. It is not what you think,” she cried out.

  “I understand exactly what this is,” he declared angrily as he pushed her back up against the door. “We had a brief interlude at a party a while back. You are obviously displeased with your husband and are looking once more for a distraction from whatever bores you in your life.”

  “That is not what I am looking for.” She gasped.

  “Then perhaps you are searching for this,” he fumed as he lost control. His head once more swooped down to taste her lips.

  He had meant such a kiss to be a sort of punishment for torturing him, but the moment she leaned into his body, everything changed from demanding to gentle. She was driving him mad, and if he did not do something to stop, the next thing he would be doing was declaring his love for a married woman.

  He once more ripped his lips from hers and ran light kisses down her neck. Her breathing escalated, much like his own. He pressed himself fully against her again, and her gasp was like sweet music to his ears. There could be no mistaking how much he wanted her.

  “Is this why you are here, Grace?” he murmured softly in her ear. He took delight in holding her just one last time before he must let her go forever.

  “Yes… I-I mean, n-no; that is not why I am here,” she stuttered.

  He pulled back from her and leaned down so he could stare directly into her eyes. “Then stop acting as though you wish to become my mistress and go back to your husband. I am sure he is more than capable of satisfying you tonight.”

  Her slap across his cheek resonated in the room. She could deliver quite the punch, and Nicholas knew he deserved the set down that was coming considering her furious flushed face.

  “You insufferable boor. How dare you speak to me that way? I do not know why I ever had the slightest inclination to right the misunderstanding between us.”

  He ignored her outburst and placed a quick kiss upon her lips. “Come to my room again, and I will take that as an open invitation you wish to warm my bed. Now get out,” he demanded opening the door.

  “I would not warm your bed if you were the last man on earth, Lord Nicholas Lacey,” she hissed.

  With brown eyes blazing, she swept from the room and out of Nicholas’s life, a yellow tabby kitten following her down the hallway. As Grace rounded the corner out of sight, the kitten looked back in Nicholas’ direction as though she had found a new owner. The blasted cat had the nerve to raise its little head as though snubbing Nicholas on Grace’s behalf.

  “Mew!” the kitten called to him and then followed in its new mistress’s wake.

  Chapter 10

  Grace linked her arm through Adrian’s as they left Hollystone Hall’s stable. The morning hunt had been a great success, and it seemed that all the planned events for the holiday season were going off splendidly. There was not much left for Grace to do other than enjoy being a guest and hope that the charity ball would bring in funding to support their cause.

  “You are pensive this morning, Grace,” Adrian noticed. “What has you so troubled?”

  “Nothing at all. I am perfectly well,” she answered through clenched lips.

  “If this is your ‘well’, I have no idea how you will enjoy the rest of the entertainments this coming week. Christmas is two days from now, and I know how much this holiday means to you. You appear as if the gloomy day is a reflection of your mood,” Adrian slowed their pace to allow others to go ahead of them. “Is Miranda getting on your nerves again? I swear that girl will be the death of me. I must watch
her every move to ensure she is behaving herself. As you know, that is no easy task.”

  “Miranda has nothing to do with how ill at ease I am feeling of late,” Grace answered in a huff while the echo of Nicholas’s angry words warred inside her head. Why had she not just blurted out that she was not married? Such a statement would surely put an end to their disagreement. But she had been just as hot-headed as him and obviously not thinking clearly. The memory left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  How ironic that the man continued to interrupt her dreams and fill every waking moment. Grace could in no way discount how he made her feel, even after he had spoken to her in such a manner. She did not think she could ever forgive him, let alone forget him.

  “Gracie?” Adrian spoke her name, bringing her out of her thoughts of Nicholas.

  She gazed at her brother with what must have been a sheepish expression. “Sorry. I am just out of sorts.”

  “And just which gentleman has you so frazzled? Do I need to call the devil out for taking advantage of my sister?” he asked with brow furrowed, clearly distressed on her behalf.

  “No!” Her answer echoed in the winter wind, and she cast her eyes downward as they continued to walk. “I mean, there is no need. I do not believe the gentleman and I have anything further to discuss.”

  “You are very defensive, and I can see you are upset. Tell me, who is the cad, or will you keep me guessing?” His stare was serious before he gave her a hug of assurance.

  A heavy sigh left her. “Lord Nicholas Lacey.”

  “The chap from the library?”

  “Yes.” A simple answer was all she could muster as the man of her musing rushed by her without even acknowledging her presence. It was almost as if he knew he had been the topic of their hushed discussion.

  “I do not understand then. You are both eligible to wed, although I do know he has a daughter. You would become an instant mother if you were to wed. Is this the problem?”