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

by Collette Cameron

  There was a loneliness in Lady Anne’s eyes when she didn’t know anyone was watching.

  “Have you finished reading, my dear?”

  Millie flushed and turned to Lady Gen, who had settled herself beside her without her knowing.

  “I have,” Millie said quickly.

  “And are you enjoying your book?” Lady Genevieve asked.

  Millie nodded, curls bouncing. “It’s very informative.”

  Lady Genevieve’s eyes widened. “I never knew you to be interested in housekeeping.”

  Millie felt her cheeks heat. If there was one thing she wasn’t good at, it was telling stories. But she felt she had to keep up the lie.

  “Oh yes, it’s one of my favorite subjects,” Millie prattled on. But she broke off when Lady Genevieve leaned over and snatched the book from her fingertips. Then with a wink, she turned the book right-side around and handed it back to Amelia.

  “Dearest, you will do far better reading it this way. Now, do you want to tell me what you are really doing?”

  Millie snapped the book closed. “Nothing at all.”

  “Spying on your father and Anne is nothing? Well, I had hoped you might have some decent information to share with me.” Lady Genevieve’s eyes twinkled as she leaned over to whisper, “They are rather obvious about it, aren’t they?”

  Millie felt her mouth begin to quirk into a smile. “It’s better than a play.”

  Lady Genevieve smiled at Millie, saying, “Indeed, it is. What is interesting to me is that neither one is willing to give the other one a chance.”

  Millie assessed the elderly lady. While she had always been fond of Lady Genevieve, she didn’t know her terribly well. That being said, the woman had been kind, honest, and didn’t treat Millie like a child. There were far too many adults that didn’t see her as an intelligent human being. The circumstances of her birth, her gender, and her father’s nationality didn’t help matters.

  It was nice to see that Lady Genevieve didn’t seem to see the barriers. She only saw Millie for who she was.

  “I think Papa is intrigued by Lady Anne, but he won’t do anything about it. Papa hasn’t allowed himself to become close with any female as far as I can remember. Oh, I know about the demimonde, I am not speaking of those types of liaisons. But I do mean a lady of quality.”

  Lady Genevieve’s eyes widened. “What do you know of the demimonde?”

  Millie shrugged. “Papa sent me to a finishing school last year. When he learned that the headmistress was telling me that my future would likely be played out in the demimonde, he immediately took me away. I think that Papa wasn’t aware of how others see me.”

  Lady Genevieve reached out to cover Millie’s gloved hand with her own. “I think it is far more likely that your father doesn’t want to admit that you are aware of how others see you. Amelia, we cannot change the circumstances of your birth. Nor can we change the prejudices of those that will never see you as their equal. It’s a harsh world that we live in.”

  Millie shrugged. “I am far more blessed than many others. My father has settled a generous sum upon me if I don't marry.”

  Lady Genevieve’s smile slipped a little. “I shouldn’t want that for you, my dear.”

  Millie frowned. “But you never married.”

  “I have often wondered if it was the best choice,” Lady Genevieve answered candidly. “I had thought myself to be independent and strong. I was far more concerned with being right than I was with being happy. Don’t pull that sad face, dear girl. I have been very content with the lot given me. But know this, if you get a chance at love, don’t throw it away because of your pride.”

  Millie hardly knew what to think. Had that happened to Lady Genevieve? Had she loved someone and then had them taken away from her? It caused a tightening in Millie’s chest that wasn’t comfortable.

  Had this happened to her papa? She knew that her mother hadn’t been the great love of her father’s life. Would her father end up like Lady Genevieve? Alone?

  “What thoughts have brought on such a frown?” Lady Genevieve prodded.

  Millie motioned with her hand across the room at where her father was playing a game with the twins and Lady Anne was knitting near the fire. For all intents and purposes, the scene appeared very domestic.

  “May I ask you a question?” Millie countered.

  Lady Genevieve blinked. “Why, certainly.”

  “It’s about Lady Anne. How much do you know about her?”

  Millie watched while Lady Genevieve looked taken aback.

  “It’s important,” Millie pressed.

  Lady Genevieve’s brow furrowed. At last she uttered one word, “Why?”

  Amelia blew out a breath and leaned in. Then she explained to Lady Genevieve everything she had heard with Lady Anne and the housekeeper. Finishing up she said, “I like her. I think Papa likes her. But she has secrets, you can see them in her eyes.”

  Lady Genevieve was clearly shaken with what the child had informed her about Mrs. Fitzgerald. Her heart was full of remorse and anger that this young lady had already faced so many hateful things in her young life—especially in her household. She would handle Mrs. Fitzgerald later.

  But for now, Lady Gen’s heart was warmed by the defense that Anne had shown for Amelia. Deciding the truth was the best option. Lady Genevieve confided, “I have known Anne for several years. She has led a lonely life. I am her godmother and asked that her father send her to me years ago. For some reason he didn’t take me up on the offer until three years ago. They have been three of the best years of my life. I know she has a good heart. I also think she could be good for your father. But I have a feeling they both will need a little nudge in the right direction.”

  Millie’s lips began to curve up. “It would seem that we are entering the matchmaking services. Shall we declare a partnership?”

  Lady Genevieve nodded. “Indeed, we shall.”

  Chapter 6

  Ian nodded absentmindedly to the maid who had brought a fresh pot of tea into the library. Having discovered one of his favorite authors among the shelves, he had quite lost himself in the story.

  It wasn’t until the scent of lavender and vanilla wafted into his presence that he immediately stiffened. He knew before looking up from the pages that it had to be that woman. Ian wasn’t sure what was driving his undeniable attraction to Lady Anne.

  It wasn’t any secret that she was lovely to look upon. The primitive part of him clearly believed that she ought to be on the arm of a man—his arm. The last thing she should be doing was wallowing away, in Brighton of all places.

  However, that wasn’t meant to be. Ian hated the fact that he had to remind himself of this fact several times a day since meeting her.

  Lady Anne was the type of woman that stirred a man’s attention, despite Ian’s great desire to suppress it. However, being the gentleman that he was, Ian automatically rose at the lady’s presence.

  “Lady Anne, what a lovely surprise. How may I help you?”

  Ian hadn’t realized he had been taking a slow leisurely glance up her form until he met her bright cheeks and flashing eyes. The lady had more spirit than he thought. How interesting.

  Anne cleared her throat. “I beg your pardon, Sir. Lady Genevieve asked that I speak to you without delay concerning an outing for the children. She thought that perhaps the twins might enjoy skating at the Royal Pavilion. Millie as well if she is so inclined.”

  Ian schooled his features. It had been far too long since he had strapped on a pair of skates. However, somehow the outing seemed rather intriguing to him. “Are you proposing to attend, Lady Anne?”

  A rosy flush stained her cheeks as she replied, “Oh, no, Sir. I wouldn’t be so forward as to invite myself along.”

  Ian shook his head. “Not at all, in fact, I insist. The three children would be quite a handful on my own. I don’t suppose you know how to skate?”

  The excitement that entered her face caused her lovely comple
xion to positively radiate. Ian nearly stumbled on the end of his sentence when he looked into her beautiful face. It was like a kick to the stomach, and he wasn’t sure that he liked it. Dear heavens, he wanted to kiss her. Indeed, he took a step forward before catching himself and grinning ruefully. It seemed that she didn’t notice his intent. Ian breathed a sigh of relief.

  He wasn’t there to make love to Lady Anne. She wasn’t someone to trifle with. He had to remember that it wouldn’t do to involve himself. Ian had learned his lesson in love. The pain of Vivian’s death weighed heavily on him. He didn’t deserve happiness after abandoning the one woman that had ever loved him.

  If Vivian hadn’t reached out to his sister-in-law before her passing, Ian might never have known about his daughter. It shamed him to this day that he had left a woman pregnant and alone, even if he hadn’t known of her state. He should have done something.

  He tamped down any of the warmer feelings that had threatened to emerge. “Yes, well, that sounds like an excellent idea. When shall we take the children?”

  “Is tomorrow afternoon suitable? I can send a footman out to procure skates for everyone.”

  Ian nodded. “That’s splendid.”

  Lady Anne nodded and turned to leave. Before she had gotten extremely far, Ian found himself speaking again. “Lady Anne, have you always dwelled in Rakesburg?”

  Ian watched as the innocent excitement slid from her lovely features. A hard mask came in its place. “I lived at Starcrest until my coming out. During the season I lived in London with my father until I had finally had enough of society and all of its charms. Three years ago, Lady Genevieve invited me to stay with her and as you can see, I have been here ever since. Now please excuse me, Sir. I have much to attend to.”

  Ian nodded, allowing her to escape. It was strange how quickly she had shut down. There was something there, he knew it. Ian just wasn’t sure what it could be.

  “Papa?”

  He looked up again to see Amelia standing in front of him. Once again rising to his feet, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. “What is it, darling daughter of mine?”

  She grinned impishly and Ian thanked God and everyone else that had been instrumental in bringing him back to his daughter. She was the best thing that had ever happened in his life. Even the idea that he might never have known her still slayed him.

  “Can I ask you something?” Amelia asked as she fidgeted with the ruffle on her dress.

  “Of course,” Ian said at once. “Please, sit with me.”

  Amelia sank into the soft cushions of the settee and turned to her father.

  Ian could see that whatever was weighing on his daughter’s mind had been troubling her. “You can tell me, you know. I don’t want you to ever be afraid of speaking with me.”

  Amelia flashed him a crooked smile, one that nearly broke his heart. Ian reached over and took her hand in his own.

  “It’s about my mother,” Amelia said at last.

  Ian had always been incredibly open with Amelia about his relationship with Vivian. However, it wasn’t in his nature to speak about personal things.

  “Go on then. What is it you wish to know about Vivian?” Ian prompted.

  “You said that you met her at Uncle Oliver’s estate.”

  “Yes, at Chatterling, the ducal seat. She was visiting with her sister, your Aunt Lucy.”

  Amelia blew out a breath. “I know you will likely find this question intrusive.”

  “I am likely to expire from curiosity. Get on with it, child. What do you want to know?”

  She cleared her throat and looked him dead in the eye. “Did you love her?”

  Ian felt as if he had taken a facer. While he had been clear on the details of how he met her mother, they had never discussed emotions. They were in England, after all; wasn’t it known that emotions weren’t on the table for discussion? The little voice inside of his mind reminded Ian that he was American and that it was silly to be having this little argument with himself.

  As he looked at his daughter, who clearly was nervous and wondering if she had overstepped, Ian knew that he couldn’t lie or fob her off. She was getting older and would soon be courting a young man of her own.

  “Amelia, you mother was a very special woman,” he began tentatively.

  “But you didn’t love her?” Amelia finished before he could go on.

  Ian sighed. “I want to tell you that I did. Honestly, I didn’t know her long enough to know if I was in love or not.”

  Ian knew that was an excuse. If he knew her long enough to leave her with child, surely, he knew her long enough to know if it was love.

  “Tell me about her?” Amelia asked.

  It was a conversation that they had repeated numerous times over the years. Ian knew that she was just trying to get them on even soil once again, and he silently thanked her for it.

  “Vivian was incredibly beautiful. I see much of her when I look at you. She was bright and intelligent. She was highly allergic to horses. She would break out in these horrible red hives.”

  Amelia made a face. “I am certainly glad I didn’t inherit that.”

  Ian laughed. “Considering the horse farms that I own. It would indeed be misfortunate if you were allergic. But we would make do. I love you, Millie. I hope you know that.”

  Amelia nodded and then impulsively moved closer to her father. He wrapped his arms around her for a hug before kissing her temple.

  “Better?” He asked quietly.

  She nodded before moving away and changing the subject. “I am excited to go ice skating tomorrow.”

  Ian narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute. I smell a rat. Was it you that put Lady Genevieve up to the suggestion?”

  Amelia laughed. Eyes dancing, she replied, “Whatever are you talking about?”

  “I hope you know that I could likely break a hip at my age,” Ian grumbled.

  “You aren’t in your dotage quite yet, Papa. All will be well.”

  Chapter 7

  Stanford’s muscular form was decidedly well-featured in his current lounging position as he fastened the ice skates to his boots. He was bundled up for their snow outing, making his broad shoulders appear massive.

  Anne already knew that they did not need a hint of padding. It didn’t matter what setting she found him in. For the man was always well turned out. It was rather disconcerting for her, a hardened spinster who had no interest in a man. After all, there had been plenty of occasions for romance in her youth and she hadn’t been the slightest bit interested.

  However, it didn’t hurt to look. Did it?

  In some ways Anne felt as if the young debutante was someone completely different from who she had now become. The ideals and passions of youth still existed within her, but Anne had learned tolerance and forbearing since those early days.

  Letters from her father had slowly trickled in over the last three years. Anne had once thought him something of an ogre. Now she could see that perhaps he too was doing the best he could with the knowledge he had.

  However, watching Ian with Millie, Anne wondered what her life might have been like had her father chosen to keep her by his side instead of leaving her alone in the country. Eliza once said that you can’t live on what could have been.

  In truth, she had thought to never want a family of her own. Having grown up without siblings, Anne hadn’t ever seen the appeal of raising a brood. But spending time with Amelia and the twins had been enlightening. She enjoyed their youthful enthusiasm. Anne found herself grateful that Lady Genevieve invited Mr. Stanford to stay for a longer visit.

  Having his skates fixed on, Ian moved to stand. “Are you going back out on the ice?” He asked, meeting her gaze.

  Her eyes were locked on his strong features. Anne didn’t know why that should cause her stomach to flip. The man was far too handsome for his own good. His body was that of an athlete. She enjoyed the way that he moved, lithe and a bit predatory.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have
the slightest desire to race with those scoundrels. I have just been soundly beaten by the twins in four out of the five races. Now I am battered and bruised, besides feeling the cold in places that should never be mentioned,” Anne said cheeks heating despite the cold.

  He raised a brow. “That’s an interesting way to phrase things.”

  Anne shook her head. “Sometimes my tongue runs away with me.”

  Before she could say any more, Millie came into view. Giggling a bit madly, she bent to scoop up a ball of snow into her gloves.

  “You have to have a death wish,” Ian warned his daughter.

  Henry, seeing Millie’s plan, stopped to do the same. Before Ian could react, Millie had thrown her snowball right at his chest. As it spattered upon impact, to Anne’s delight, the children whooped with joy and began to gather snowballs for themselves.

  “It would appear that we are under attack,” Ian called out to Lady Anne.

  Her heart warmed at his inclusion of her. “What shall we do?” she asked.

  Ian shrugged, his lips twitching, before bending down to gather snow into his gloves. The children squealed and redoubled their efforts. Soon the space was filled with snowballs being volleyed back and forth. Laughter filled the air, and to Anne’s surprise, she laughed just as much as the children.

  Her nose was cold and her finger slightly numb from the snow. But all in all, this was without a doubt her favorite ice-skating trip to date.

  Ian raced around, wobbling on his skates, as he tried to get Amelia back for dumping snow down the back of his cloak. It was one beautiful catastrophe after another.

  On his next pass, he clipped Anne, causing her feet to go out from under her body. Without thinking, Ian yanked her into his chest, not wanting her to hit her head again. Instead, he took both of their weight and went down hard. With a thud, Anne landed sprawled across the large man.

  With her skirts in disarray and her face frozen in complete horror, Anne tried to scramble off him. But Ian must have had other plans because his arms didn’t automatically release her. Heat flared inside of her. Why did it feel so terribly good to be laying on top of this man?