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

by Collette Cameron

  “Are you hurt?” Henry called out.

  Again, Anne tried to push herself off of Ian. But Ian shocked her by tilting his head back into the slow and letting out a bark of laughter. She watched his throat and felt the strongest urge to place a tender kiss at the base. It was almost as if that skin was begging for her touch. Usually it was covered with his cravat. But tilted just so, she could see the firm column of his neck.

  “Are you alright, Uncle Ian?” Brant called out. Then there was a muffled curse and Brant whispered, “What? She’s laying on top of him. Chances are he’s the one with the injury this time.”

  Anne couldn't help herself. The absurdity of the situation struck her, and she too began to laugh. Even as she eventually scrambled off of him, Anne couldn’t help the brilliant smile that crossed her face.

  Several skaters had begun to take notice of the fall and had gathered around the group. Instead of growling at them, Ian stood and bowed as if he had just performed a great play. Anne joined him in a curtsey of her own, and soon the onlookers dispersed.

  “Truly, are you alright?” Ian asked in a faint voice next to her ear.

  Anne nodded. Her eyes twinkling as she answered, “You were a rather safe place to fall.”

  It wasn’t until later that she realized the truthfulness of those words. If she allowed herself, Anne could very well fall into Ian Stanford and never find her way back out again.

  Neither of them noticed that Millie was watching the pair of adults intently. What they didn’t see was the hesitant smile forming on the child’s lips as she congratulated herself for what she considered a job well done. Perhaps this matchmaking business wouldn’t be so hard after all.

  Chapter 8

  Ian heard laughter coming from Lady Anne’s bedchamber and knew that his nephews had spent many of the afternoons of the past week entertaining her with cards and games. Anne had suffered a bit of a chill from their ice-skating adventure.

  Instead of heading back to London, as he had originally intended after a few days, Ian had written to his brother Ryan and delayed their return for another week. It was getting much closer to Christmas and Ian knew he needed to get the children home.

  But the thought of leaving Brighton without ever getting to know Lady Anne better seemed like a fate worse than death.

  Another gust of laughter met his ears. By the sound of their merrymaking, it could very well have been a party they were attending and not someone’s sick bed.

  Tightening his lips, Stanford rapped lightly on the door.

  “By Jove, Uncle Ian,” Henry answered the door. His face was flushed and his cravat somewhat askew. The handsome lad did not move aside and bade him welcome, he simply stared. “Whatever are you doing here?”

  “I have come to inquire after Lady Anne’s health,” Ian said stiffly, suddenly wishing he had never thought to knock on the door.

  Henry grinned. “Oh, Anne is feeling much more the thing!”

  As he tried closing the door, Ian stuck his large boot into the doorway. What was it that Henry didn’t want him to see?

  “Did you need anything else, Uncle Ian?” Henry asked innocently.

  Ian answered through gritted teeth, “I should like to speak with her.”

  Anne’s amused voice came from somewhere inside of the room. “Henry, dearest, move away from the door and let your uncle enter, please.”

  Stanford felt a familiar tug of lust when he heard her lyrical voice. But he steeled himself against any tender feelings that he may have been harboring. He was only there to check on the status of her cold. It was purely a courtesy call—nothing more.

  Henry moved back, and Ian entered to see a wide-eyed Millie and Brant playing checkers on a small table near the fire. He glanced at the bed, but it was empty. Looking about, he found his quarry watching him with twinkling eyes and a soft smile on her lips.

  Once again, Ian was stuck by the fact that Lady Anne was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. The cut of her clothing was of the highest order. Ian hated that he had noticed such things. The deep green of her gown was the perfect foil for her creamy skin and golden hair.

  Ian had even stooped to trying to get information about Lady Anne out of Lady Gen. But Lady Gen would have none of it. She had even gone so far as to say that if he wanted to get to know Lady Anne, he could damn well do it himself.

  Well, it showed how much she knew. Ian was only interested on a surface level. He had no desire to know Lady Anne more intimately; the very idea was ludicrous.

  And yet there she sat, with her chocolate-brown eyes dancing in delight at something his nephew had said. For the life of him, Ian could not tear himself away from the scene.

  “Uncle Ian,” Brant called out. “How long are we to stay in Brighton?”

  Ian shook his head to clear it. “Tired of kicking your heels here, are you?”

  Henry turned in dismay. “Nothing of the sort, Uncle. Do not make us leave. We are having a grand time. It is only that we wondered if we might stay for the Christmas holiday? Anne said that she might be feeling well enough to attend a few events at the Royal Pavilion, and Millie said she’s never been to a town festival before.”

  “Please say we might go,” Brant added.

  “What about your parents?” Ian tried to reason. “They are expecting us back in London.”

  The twins shrugged. “We won’t stay much past Christmas Day. We can be in London to celebrate the new year,” Millie suggested.

  Ian’s eyes met Anne’s. She could see the indecision in them and couldn’t help the flush that stained her cheeks. “Boys, your uncle is a remarkably busy man. You cannot expect him to put his life on hold for the next month merely for a festival held in Brighton. Just think of how devastated your parents would be to miss you at Christmas. No, we can’t go and spoil everyone’s plans.”

  The twins looked duly chastened.

  But Millie was still biting her lip as if considering things.

  Anne continued, “I apologize, milord, I didn’t mean to rile them up.”

  Ian felt like a cad. Surely Anne didn’t think that he was so ham-fisted that he couldn’t attend a Christmas celebration with his daughter and nephews? It wouldn’t take too much time to write Ryan and Lillian about staying on a little bit longer. If he explained that the investments he was working on were taking up more time, surely they wouldn’t bat an eye—would they?

  “Nonsense, Lady Anne,” he replied gruffly. “I should like nothing better than to extend our stay and attend the Christmas Festival at the Royal Pavilion. It sounds as if it will be a momentous occasion.”

  Anne beamed at him. “Oh indeed! It’s one of my favorite parts of the holiday season. There are carolers and acrobats as well as hot chocolate and steamy pasties. And on Christmas Eve there is a grand dinner followed by a Christmas Ball. It’s simply wonderful!”

  Ian was caught by her description and the rapture on her face. What he wouldn’t do to have her look like that at him. Suddenly he wanted that badly, far more than anything else. She was radiant in her enthusiasm. Would she be like that after he kissed her? What would she be like after a night spent in his bed?

  “Papa? You look odd. Are you feeling well?”

  Millie’s question was better than a pitcher of freezing water.

  Ian straightened. “I am fine. I will begin to draft that letter at once.”

  “Capital!” Henry shouted.

  “You’re bang up to the nines!” Brant added.

  “Thank you, Papa! This shall be the best Christmas ever, just you wait and see!” Millie ran over to her father and threw her arms around his waist.

  Stanford crouched down to meet her eye. “I suppose it will be that and more. But just know, little miss. We can’t stay here forever. At some point we do have to return to our normal lives.”

  Millie nodded. “Of course. I shall be happy to go wherever you say. I won’t complain one single moment.”

  Ian laughed. “Well, we aren’t expec
ting miracles.”

  Millie shook her head. “You are funning me. But I am in too good of a mood to rise to the bait. I can’t wait to go to the festivities. Perhaps Lady Gen can advise me on what to wear.”

  As she raced out the door the twins rolled their eyes. “What does it matter what she wears just so long as she’s clothed?” Henry asked.

  Brant shrugged. “Women. They don’t make a lick of sense.”

  The twins followed Millie out, leaving Ian and Anne alone.

  As the boys noisily left the room, Ian watched as Anne lifted her hands to her head and gently rubbed her temples in small circular patterns.

  “If you will allow me?” He walked up impossibly close to her and gently removed her hands and then slowly began massaging her head.

  A soft moan escaped her lips. “That feels like heaven.”

  She closed her eyes and sank against him as he worked the tired muscles of her head, neck, and shoulders. Her lips parted softly on a gasp, and little whimpers of delight escaped them.

  “You are a miracle worker,” she breathed, not opening her eyes.

  Ian had known the most experienced of courtesans, but none had brought him to such swift arousal as Lady Anne had.

  Her bated breath and heaving breasts were enough to delight any man, but the way she spoke to him was as if he were licking between her thighs. His cock was harder than a rock. Was she doing this on purpose?

  And then he noticed that her breathing had evened out.

  Good Lord, the chit had fallen asleep on him!

  He had an erection the size of Big Ben in his falls—he couldn’t leave the room. What if the twins came back? Or worse, his daughter?

  Her breasts were full and lush in her day dress. Ian wanted to push the ruffles a little further to see the color of her nipples.

  A soft sleepy sigh came from the lady in question, and his cock demanded attention.

  Rubbing it once on the outside of his falls, Ian’s gaze swept to Anne only to find that her eyes were now open. He choked on his words, not knowing what he should say.

  Did he pretend he hadn’t just cupped his cock in front of her? Did he blithely brush it off or make a witty joke about it? Instead he grunted out in a deep voice, “Please say something.”

  Anne swallowed, the delicate action causing her throat to constrict, but there were no words. It was indelicate to stare at a man’s crotch. But now that he had brought her attention to the area she couldn’t look away.

  Was it always so large and imposing? A part of Anne really wanted to see what it looked like in the light of day. However, she hadn’t lost her senses to the point of completely throwing away propriety.

  “Is it painful?” she asked absentmindedly.

  Ian let out a bark of laughter. “A bit at the moment, but it will pass. I do apologize.”

  At his apology, Anne’s gaze met his. “Why? You didn’t do anything wrong. I grew up in the country, Mr. Stanford. I am somewhat familiar with a male’s desire.”

  Ian laughed again, running a finger under his neckcloth. Was it him, or had the room become several degrees warmer?

  “I can assure you, Lady Anne. Anything you see on the farm isn’t quite the same as what happens between a man and a woman.”

  Damn it all, Ian thought, why had he said that aloud? It was clear from the surprise on Lady Anne’s face that she hadn’t put the two together until he opened his mouth.

  Questions seemed to enter those innocent eyes, and Ian wished he were anywhere but standing in the beautiful woman’s bedchamber.

  “Where in the devil is your maid?” Ian asked.

  Anne shrugged. “Mary is off running errands or something. Mr. Stanford…”

  “Lady Anne,” he began.

  “Anne,” she stopped him. “If we are to be on this familiar of terms, please call me Anne.”

  He looked taken aback. “Of course. My friends call me Stanford.”

  She shook her head, the furious blush reigniting. “Stanford is fine.”

  “My given name is Ian,” his husky voice caused tingles to race across her skin.

  “Ian,” she repeated softly, trying it out.

  She couldn’t have known that speaking his name aloud would have on him. Desire flared in his eyes, and he fought the urge to take her into his arms.

  “Please don’t apologize. We shall put this behind us and vow to be friends. Is that alright with you?”

  “We shall be friends,” he conceded.

  She smiled faintly, and he noticed that indeed she did look very tired. “You are exhausted, I should never have kept you. I am sorry, Anne”

  Her face turned to his, eyes smiling. “Anne, please.”

  He softened. “Anne. I will leave you so that you may rest. I am certain that my nephews and daughter will be plaguing you again soon enough.”

  A small gurgle of laughter escaped her. “They are fun children. I enjoy their company.”

  He gave a rueful glance. “I am glad they are serving some decent purpose, young devils that they are.”

  Anne’s eyes danced. “Are they always such a handful together?”

  His eyes clouded over.

  Immediately Anne felt she had made a mistake. “How impertinent of me. I am terribly sorry. Please forget I ever pried into your personal affairs, Mr. Stanford.”

  He looked over at Anne to see her downturned head and frowned. “Stanford if you must, but if we are alone, please call me Ian.”

  Her eyes flashed to his searchingly. “I didn’t mean to misstep.”

  Ian smiled faintly, “A curious question between friends is hardly a misstep when you consider the faults that I have made this afternoon. Your graciousness and forgiveness have been exonerating. Please, do not worry about it. It’s not a secret how my daughter came to be in my care. I fear at times she grows lonely with just the two of us. When Lady Gen summoned me to Brighton, Millie pleaded that I take her cousins with her.”

  “She is very lucky to have them,” Anne added. “Many times, throughout the years I would have given anything for a playmate.”

  Ian cocked a brow. “What about the other families in the village?”

  Anne shook her head. “My father was quite insistent that I only play with children of my own class. What he failed to remember is that there weren’t other families of such a high station in Rakesburg. It wasn’t as if he was around to even know how lonely I had become. When I was summoned for my first season, I half feared I wouldn’t recognize him, it had been so long.”

  Ian was shocked. “But why?”

  Anne glanced away. “For years I thought it was something I said or did. I wrote countless letters to him, begging that he send for me. But he never did.”

  “He was a fool,” Ian broke in.

  Anne looked over at him and Ian felt her stare all the way to the tips of his toes. He hated the sadness that lurked behind her eyes. He would have given all the horses in his farms just to see her smile again.

  “I think he sees that now,” Anne replied. “He’s been trying to rekindle our relationship.”

  “But it’s a little too late?” Ian added.

  Anne shrugged. “I am not so foolish as to throw away that bond. But if I am honest, it’s much harder to let go of all of those years of feeling neglected. Nothing is ever as black-and-white as it should be, is it?”

  Ian thought about the anger and resentment he had toward Vivian. While their situations were different, Ian did understand what Anne was saying. She still had a chance to make things better. Ian never would be able to fix things with Vivian.

  “You are wiser than you know,” Ian said finally. “It’s hard to forgive, that much is true. But while you still have the chance, you are trying, and that is what is commendable.”

  “I should be able to let things go,” she added with a depreciating laugh.

  Ian found himself telling Anne about the betrayal he felt after Vivian had robbed him of the first years in Amelia’s life. “I know that she f
elt remorse for how she handled things. But if Vivian hadn’t have gotten sick, I may never have known about Millie. The thought sickens me. How could she keep that knowledge away from me? I have struggled with this for years now, and still strive to find forgiveness in my heart.”

  “And yet you won’t forgive yourself?” Anne asked hesitantly.

  Ian looked taken aback. “What do you mean?”

  “You said that you abandoned Vivian after your liaison. You didn’t even stop to think that she might be with child. You still carry that guilt around for placing Vivian in that situation, no matter that she too was a willing participant and you asked her to write if there was a child. I am just suggesting that perhaps when you get around to forgiving her, you might want to try and forgive yourself. It sounds as if you both handled things poorly.”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” Ian snapped, suddenly sorry that he had allowed their conversation to become so intimate. “And what of you?”

  “What of me?” Anne asked.

  “You blame your father for not answering you for all of those years. But when he had you in London, you did everything you could to flout his judgement. You threw away match after match simply because he approved. How much responsibility do you share for your broken relationship?”

  Anne’s temper was piqued. How dare he even presume to know her back then? She wanted to tear into him, and at one point would have without question.

  But she wasn’t the impetuous young girl that she once was. Through clenched teeth, she bid him good day and allowed him to leave her.

  Chapter 9

  “Have Papa and Anne quarreled?” Millie asked Lady Gen in a hushed whisper the following afternoon. “They haven’t said two words to each other all day.”

  Lady Gen leaned in closer to the young girl. “Something is definitely afoot. The twins haven’t been able to tease a smile out of Anne, and that’s not like her. I know she’s feeling better. Perhaps we need to present an outing. Anne loves the lending library.”