Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2)

by Collette Cameron

  “I have to be honest,” he said quietly, “I was more worried that you would be in pain than in pleasure.”

  “I have never,” she began, and then hesitated before continuing in a less controlled voice, “never experienced anything…anything like this.”

  If he had heard words like that from anyone else – and if he were honest, he had – he would have found his ego inflating, to know he had given such sensual delight to a lady.

  But not with Annika. All he felt was relief, and joy that she had experienced ecstasy. She was important – far more important than he had realised before she had stepped into his room this evening.

  Not only important, but precious. He felt honoured, as though he had been given a precious gift, that it had been he to give her that first experience of intimacy between a gentleman and a lady.

  She shifted slightly in his arms, and Maxim could feel himself stiffen at the very thought of a repeat experience. No, he must be controlled. Though she was not sore now, she certainly would be if he took his pleasure and plunged into her again.

  “Well,” Annika whispered, tracing an invisible line across his chest with a finger, “that was a secret worth knowing.”

  Maxim smiled. “Plenty more where that one came from.”

  She did not respond, her eyes lowered to watch her finger move.

  He continued, “You must have secrets too, Annika, even if they are only little, womanly ones.”

  “Every woman is entitled to her own secrets,” she said quietly.

  Maxim nodded. “Of course, but you must remember that in the bedchamber, that is the perfect time to share secrets. Why, it is only the two of us, and neither of us will ever mention this to another. Consider it a Christmas gift to me. Tell me…”

  His voice trailed away. He had glanced down, and Annika’s eyelashes had fluttered shut. Her breathing was steady, and he watched her slip into slumberland in his arms.

  Chapter 8

  Anne rubbed her eyes. She knew there would be consequences to her night of passion with Maxim, but she had not expected it to be tired eyes and a slight headache.

  “I do not need,” she said quietly, and as calmly as she could manage, “a carriage with four horses.”

  “Of course you do,” Sir Thomas said absentmindedly. “Now, the next thing we need to agree is – ”

  “No, we have not finished discussing the carriage,” Anne interrupted with a sigh. She leaned back in her chair, and tried not to think too longingly of her own bed. “Father, four horses are such an extravagance, one we do not need. Why spend money when we do not even know whether this marriage is taking place!”

  Her words fell on entirely deaf ears.

  “Nonsense, no carriage? No horses?” Her father looked down at the copious piles of papers in his lap. “Now, somewhere I have the details of a farrier who – ”

  “Father, I do not want four horses and a carriage! I am hardly a duchess, I am just a gentlewoman from a small town in the country,” Anne said fiercely. “And I am happy to be so! I do not wish to exhibit pretentions that others will think ridiculous!”

  “You are the daughter of a baronet,” Sir Thomas said, a little more focus in his eye as he found the piece of paper he was looking for. “You will not dishonour me in this, Anne.”

  “Dishonour you?” Anne stared at her father in disbelief. “Who is this wedding for, you or me?”

  Her words startled him, but not in the way she had expected. “Then…then you are going to go through with the marriage?”

  She hesitated. They were sitting alone in a corner of the Court, Meredith out playing with a kitchen girl who had not been needed that day. A smattering of snow fell past the window, and the fire blazed in the grate, as courtiers and visitors meandered and mingled.

  She had spoken instinctively, without consideration, but now she stopped and examined her feelings…

  This wedding, this marriage to Maxim…when had it ceased to be a sham in her eyes? In her heart? Was it the gifts, the way he smiled, the way he actually listened to what she said?

  Or, and she blushed at the very thought, was it when she had been naked in his arms and known pleasure beyond anything she could have imagined?

  It had only been a few hours ago. She had crept away before the sun had risen, and found her own bed cold and empty. Longing for him was not only sensual as she tried to get a few hours of sleep before the Court awoke. She had wanted him for the comfort of his arms around her.

  They were but two days away from their marriage: the day before Christmas Eve. The idea that she would not go through with the wedding, it was ludicrous – not after what they had shared in his bed.

  “I have wanted to do this from the moment I first met you.”

  Maxim. He had made her feel safe, wanted, desired, free to ask for what she wanted. Could she have imagined a gentleman like him?

  In the rare moments she had ever considered marriage, before this wild week at St. James’ Court, she had not imagined such joys, such easiness between her and her intended.

  Her eyes moved around the room and as though unable to stay away, fell on Maxim. He was stood stiffly, resolutely, in his most formal wear, a few feet from Prinny who was discussing a gambling bet with a friend. The patience on Maxim’s face was stoic, but as their eyes met, he smiled.

  Something fiery twisted in her stomach as she returned the smile. She could not help it. He was exactly what she had not dared to hope for in a gentleman, and he was all hers.

  And it was not like anyone else would want to marry her…

  The thought had passed through her mind before she could stop it. Why did she forbid herself the potential happiness that was before her? She could not think of herself like that. she was worthy of love, and while this engagement was a strange one, something she could never have predicted or sought, that did not mean she did not deserve it.

  Did it?

  “Anne, I am speaking to you!”

  Anne jumped. Sir Thomas was staring with a slight frown across his face, and she realised she had likely been completely ignoring him for the last few minutes, her mind so overwhelmed with thoughts.

  “I apologise, Father,” she said quietly. “It is just…”

  Her gaze was pulled inexorably towards Maxim again, who inclined his head to Sir Thomas.

  Her father sighed. “My dear, we are attempting to plan this wedding, a wedding, may I remind you, which is only two days away.”

  Anne nodded without taking her eyes from Maxim. How could she? He was everything she wanted, and after everything that happened, after the regret she had lived with for years, she was finally going to have something that was her very own.

  “And then you will be married, and someone else’s problem.”

  Anne turned to stare at her father, who looked a little defiant. “You…you almost sound as though you are relieved to be rid of me!”

  “Any father would be,” Sir Thomas began, but he was not permitted to continue.

  “Any father?”

  “I did not mean it like that,” he said hurriedly, keeping his voice low. “Now, do not look at me like that, Annika. I am not ashamed of you, nor do I seek to lose you. But I do worry about you. Who will look after you when I am gone? Who will care for Meredith?”

  Hot fire seemed to be burned through her veins as Anne tried to swallow down her bitterness. He was not a bad person. He was her father, and he knew her better than – well, a week ago she would have said anyone.

  Now that Maxim and she had…

  Anne swallowed. “I had hoped you would always be proud of me,” she said quietly, to ensure that no one else in the court would hear her words. “No matter what mistakes I have made in the past.”

  Sir Thomas shook his head sadly. “Ah, Anne. You know that I love you, but your marriage will solve more than one problem, do you not see?”

  She rose. “I see,” she said coldly. “This wedding is for you then, as I suspected. For you, and your honour, and to
relieve you of me as a burden. I will see you later, Father.”

  Ignoring his protestations, Anne stepped away from their chairs and strode across the room. A few gentlemen had to scuttle out of her way, but she ignored their scandalised looks and the whispers moving around the room. Maxim had gone, and there was no one else she wished to speak to here.

  The door to the corridor flew open and Anne almost ran through it – straight into the arms of Maxim.

  Even from a distance, standing and waiting for Prinny to finish his banal conversation about a foolish bet he regretted, Maxim could see that Annika was upset. Was it the turn of her head, the lilt on her voice that carried over the crowd?

  He could not tell, but every inch of him knew that she needed him. Maxim’s eyes glanced at Prinny, and he hesitated. The royal regent was not always in attendance at St. James’ Court. This was a perfect opportunity to speak with him, plead his case.

  Annika’s voice grew, still indistinct enough that he could not hear the exact words, but clearly in heightened distress.

  Maxim’s decision was made. Turning on his heels, he strode out of the room. If there was a time for another gift, then this was it.

  As he moved to step back into the court, gift in his hand, he almost ran headlong into Annika herself.

  “Ann – Miss Marsh, I…” Maxim’s voice trailed away. If he did not know better, he would have said there were tears in her eyes. “Let us go for a walk.”

  He spoke so firmly that she simply nodded, taking his arm and allowing him to guide her through the corridors with festoons of Christmas decorations, into the cold air. Snow was starting to fall.

  The pressure of her hand on his arm felt natural. As though it should have been there all along. How deep am I falling here, Maxim wondered. When did I start to not want this woman, but need her in my life?

  Words seemed to fail him as they trod footsteps into the lightly fallen snow. What did one say to a woman who, mere hours ago, you had naked beneath you?

  And yet there was no tension between them. If anything, the tension was leaving Annika; he could see her shoulders slacken. Just walking here, in silence, was wonderful. As though they were made for each other.

  There were only a few people walking in the grounds of St. James’ Court, kept inside undoubtedly due to the inclement weather.

  Finally, she spoke. “You must think me very strange, Maxim.”

  “No,” he countered gently. “Just upset.”

  Annika sighed heavily, her breath warm in the freezing air. “None of this seems real, do you think? I mean, it is Christmas Eve tomorrow, and then the next day…”

  No words followed this statement. Whether from her words, or the freezing air around them, her cheeks had pinked.

  “The next day is your wedding day,” he said lightly, “if you choose it. Unless you have cold feet.”

  She laughed and looked down at her thin boots. “In only one sense, Maxim. Believe it or not, I…I am actually considering forcing you to marry me.”

  Relief and joy rushed through Maxim’s body in equal measure. “You mean that?”

  Her blue eyes glanced at him and she nodded.

  Was this situation real? Maxim swallowed, trying to maintain his equilibrium as his emotions flew around inside him. This was not what he came here for, he came here to hide his secret and claim the Czardom that he was owed.

  But would any of it mean anything, if he did not have Annika by his side?

  “You had better prepare all of your medals, by the way,” Annika was saying with a chuckle. “My father is planning the whole thing out to his satisfaction, and I think he would quite enjoy a military feel. You don’t have any more, do you?”

  “Medals?” Maxim shook his head. “I could always rustle up a few.”

  She grinned. “I think Father is far more interested in the preparations than I am.”

  “Well,” said Maxim as they turned another corner, “I did say that I would marry him if he asked me to.”

  The sound of Annika’s laughter seemed to bounce off the frozen trees, giving the whole world a different light.

  “He has always dreamed about walking me down the aisle,” she said confidingly, “and it seems callous not to give him that opportunity.”

  “And have you always dreamed of walking down the aisle?”

  It felt like an innocent question – until the words were out of his mouth, and he saw the expression of fear on her face. Why did such a simple question provoke such a response?

  “Once,” she said quietly. “But not for very long.”

  Questions whirled in Maxim’s mind like the snow starting to pick up around him, but it was clear by Annika’s tone, and the way she refused to meet his eye, that this was not a conversation she would be drawn on.

  Well, everyone should be allowed at least one secret. They were happy together, and it looked like nothing could stop their nuptials in just two days. What did a crush, years ago and with no consequences, matter to him?

  Their walk took them down a long walkway. Coming towards them was a young lady, solitary, and dressed in the latest fashions. She had evidently ignored the Prince Regent’s desire for more formal attire.

  About twenty yards before she met them, a gentleman appeared around a corner and shouted something. She stopped, waited for him to join her, and then kissed him full on the mouth before they started walking arm in arm.

  “Good day,” the young lady said with a flirtatious smile.

  “Good day,” Annika replied quietly, inclining her head.

  Maxim looked back after a minute. “Who was that couple, and a very happily married couple they are too.”

  “Not quite,” said Annika gently. “That is the Earl of Marnmouth and Miss Emma Tilbury.”

  It took a moment for her words to sink in, and then Maxim turned back to take another look at them. They were no longer arm in arm, but standing in the path, kissing passionately as though the whole world had melted away.

  “Miss Emma Tilbury?”

  Annika nodded. “I believe Miss Tilbury has been the Earl’s mistress for a number of years.”

  It was impossible to prevent the shock he felt from appearing on his face. “You cannot be serious. The Prince must not know – how else could he let such a woman here at Court?”

  She laughed and tightened her grip on his arm. “Oh, Maxim, you do not know England as well as you thought. The Regent’s entire world is about pleasure, and taking it where you can. Were there not mistresses in the Czar’s court? Did your father not have two wives?”

  The way she spoke, so relaxed, so casual, made Maxim hesitate. It was true, his own father had taken a second wife; but she had been a wife nonetheless, not a mistress. He knew it happened, even in the most regal of settings – but to have it so obviously flaunted…

  “Well, I am glad at least that you kept your distance,” he said faintly, his mind starting to move to other things. “A woman such as that here! We shall have to ensure she does not attend the wedding, Annika.”

  But she had removed her arm. “Why?”

  “Why?” Maxim stared, and so only mild defiance in her face. “Annika, you cannot be serious?”

  “No one can judge another for their decisions in life,” she said simply. “You do not know her situation, what brought her to that arrangement with the Earl. It could have been the making of her – she could have started from somewhere much worse.”

  Maxim did not speak. No matter what she said, Annika seemed to know a little too much of this Miss Emma Tilbury, and he did not like the idea of his future wife consorting with a woman who evidently had no concerns of gossip, or morals, or….or decency!

  “Do you know her?”

  Annika blushed darkly, her cheeks flushed. “No, of course not! But any woman who does not abide by society is not necessarily wrong. Is it not possible that she is just different?”

  Maxim took a deep breath. “You are a far gentler creature than I am, I will admit. Just remember
, one day you will be a Czarina, and you will not be permitted to socialise with women like that!”

  She laughed and cried, “A Czarina? Goodness, will that be my title?”

  But he could hear the pain underneath the laughter. There was an untold story there, one that Annika clearly did not trust him enough to tell. But she would, in time.

  After all, what kind of secret could she be hiding?

  Chapter 9

  “Do not go too far, Meredith!”

  Anne’s words were caught in the wind, not reaching the young girl who was giggling wildly and skipping away, making deep tracks in the snow. The St. James’ Court servants had decorated outside here, too. Garlands of winter roses adorned every door they passed.

  Shaking her head with a smile, Anne followed her from a slight distance. She should have known – knew better than anyone, in fact, that you simply could not tell a girl what to do and expect to be obeyed. Not when the child was so like her mother.

  Meredith was twelve, almost thirteen. It would not be long, a few years perhaps, and she would be tugging at the bit, desperate to be out there at card parties, balls, catching the eye of a gentleman or two.

  Anne’s jaw clenched for a moment at the very thought. Meredith, fifteen or sixteen years of age, smiling coquettishly at a soldier. If only she could prevent her from making the same mistakes as her mother…

  “Whoops!”

  “Be careful, Meredith!” Anne frowned slightly as she watched Meredith pick herself up from the snow and brush down her gown. “If it is too icy out here, we should go inside!”

  Meredith completely ignored her, running with her skirts flying as the sight of her kitchen maid friend appeared around a corner, giggling in turn.

  “Wait for me!”

  Anne’s face softened. It was rare for Meredith to find a playmate she could lose herself with, and they would be gone in less than a week. Best to let her play, and get all that energy out of her system. She could not come to real harm, hopefully.

  “Just do not go too far, Meredith.”

  Meredith ignored her. Same old, same old, Anne thought with a wry smile. She should have known.