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

by Collette Cameron

  His long, elegant fingers steepled as he surveyed her over them. Kitty stared back, unflinching.

  “I am sorry to disappoint you, Miss Thorpe, but a notice has been posted, and the wedding will take place as agreed on the first of December, by common licence.”

  She flinched at the cold, formal use of her name.

  “You are insane,” she snapped, climbing to her feet to pace. It was beyond bearing. Robert also stood, the chair scraping against the floor and clasped his hands behind his back.

  “One other matter… Would you prefer to reside in town at Preston House, or I have a modest country estate—”

  “You are thinking of travelling in winter?” God, the roads would be rutted to hell, and she would have her teeth shaken loose before journey end. Her thoughts must have been showing on her face as Robert quickly forestalled further concerns.

  “Harkham Hall is just a few miles outside London,” he interjected.

  Kitty let out a bitter chuckle. She understood now, already he was banishing her to the country, ashamed of the wife who was foisted upon him. What was that saying again? Out of sight, out of mind? This wasn’t going to plan at all, but then nothing had gone to plan since she had started this misbegotten enterprise of another season. “You have planned for everything, it seems.”

  Robert’s brows lowered, but the scowl was more of a puzzled mein rather than ferocious.

  “With the exception that I don’t want to marry you!” Kitty snapped, her emotions boiling over.

  “It was not what I intended either, Katherine, but there is no other choice but to proceed down the only path left open to us.”

  She flinched at his harshness and proper tone. He couldn’t have made it clearer: Robert was marrying her because honour demanded he did his duty, not for any sentimental notions.

  Her temper sparked. “Of course, you have arranged everything to your liking. You want me to jump to, with an ‘Aye, Captain’ or ‘Nay, Captain’. I am not one of your sailors, and you are not giving orders from your quarterdeck,” she spat. The pain of knowing she was unwanted was only surpassed by the knowledge she had unwittingly trapped Robert. It felt like her chest was being pried apart and Kitty fought to maintain her composure.

  Robert’s gaze went skywards. “Lord save me from stubborn women,” he muttered and braced his hands on the corners of his desk.

  His dark, soulful eyes drilled into her, and the air went out of the room as his presence swelled.

  “Mark me well, Katherine, the combined duty of our families will propel you down that aisle and you will make your vows before man and God,” he bit out.

  Kitty lifted her chin in the face of his words, and a shiver raced down her spine like a finger moving over the keys of the piano forte. His face hardened into a stern, unyielding cast. Kitty had to fight not to retreat. His anger thrummed between them. She would be married to a man she loved who didn’t love her in return. The realisation stopped her dead. She loved him, had never stopped loving him. Had tried to distort that tender emotion to hate.

  “Are you well, Kitten, you have turned pale?”

  She swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat. “Quite well, Captain Vaughn.”

  The empty, bleak future opened up in front of her, and she shook her head. There was no way out. She could fight him, she could withstand the pressure from her family, but with their forces combined it would be a losing battle. All other avenues closed, Kitty accepted the reality of her situation. It wasn’t just a bad dream, it didn’t evaporate when the sun rose to banish the darkness. It was her new reality.

  She closed her eyes, and a stronger wave of nausea hit her. “I shouldn’t have come. I apologise for inconveniencing you, Captain Vaughn. I will see myself out.”

  She turned for the door, the only thing on her mind to escape and mourn for what might have once been between them. Now she was to be an unedifying duty, to be borne and endured.

  A gentle hand on her arm halted her.

  “Katherine, you are as pale as a sheet and shaking. Please allow me to see you home.”

  The concern in his voice almost overset her. Almost.

  “I am not your wife yet, Captain, I am still at liberty to ignore your commands no matter how well-meaning,” she said, proud when she could calmly meet his eyes and jerked her arm free, sailing through the door with her head held high.

  The wedding was a strained and quiet affair with the odd whisper plaguing Katherine’s progress to stand beside him, in front of the minister, but from her lack of reaction and poise, one would have thought she was deaf to them. Robert clenched his jaw. If anyone dared say one word against her in his presence, he would treat them to a full broadside in short order. It was only as she drew closer he saw the dark smudges under her wide eyes. She looked washed-out and wan, barely speaking a word more than the required wedding vows.

  “Miss Katherine Georgianna Thorpe, wilt thou take this man…”

  The tempo of the blood pounding in Robert’s ears increased, and he found himself holding his breath.

  “I do.”

  The words were so softly spoken, he had to strain to hear. No one else would have detected the slight catch to her voice, but he did. Over the first hurdle, the tension in his shoulder’s eased, and the remainder of the ceremony was completed without incident. He wanted to comfort her, tell her all would be well, but didn’t know how to breach the impenetrable wall she had surrounded herself with.

  After a suitable wedding breakfast, the bride and groom quietly slipped away, into a carriage that would take them to Harkham Hall.

  He handed his new wife of a few hours into the carriage, and she remained unusually quiet. It unnerved him. She released his hand like his touch scalded her and immediately settled in the farthest corner. The carriage jerked forward into motion, and Robert pasted on a strained smile.

  Katherine’s face was partially averted. He took his time to study this new wife of his, so familiar and yet so different. He stretched his feet out in front of him, crossing his legs at the ankles. She was every inch the composed lady, if not for the occasional tell-tale fidget of fiddling the ring he’d placed on her finger.

  Still, he needed to at least strive to make conversation. “Your family appeared pleased with the ceremony.” How inane his stilted attempt sounded.

  Kitty’s shoulders tensed but her gaze remained fixed out of the window, and he strove for a patience that he was not known for.

  “Of course they would be, they are happy I’m no longer an embarrassment to them. I’m your problem now.”

  “Feeling sorry for yourself, Katherine?”

  “Yes.”

  Her blunt but honest rebuttal took him by surprise but shouldn’t have done.

  Was being wed to him such a burden that she could not even pretend happiness? An old insecurity raised its ugly head before he could temper his response. “Still hankering after that title?”

  She twisted violently towards him, and he was shocked at the tears glittering in her eyes.

  “Let us get one thing straight, husband.” The words were pushed through gritted teeth, her clenched fist shaking. “I have never desired a title. I am more concerned I have tied myself to a man who has made his lack of regard for my person and morals plain at every opportunity, who my family has treated ill, I’m ashamed to admit. But for better or for worse, I am yours to do with as you please.”

  Her eyes kindling sapphire flames, she stared up at him with an intensity that took his breath away and silenced him. Fringed by long, dark lashes, they stood out in stark contrast with her pale complexion. The mask was gone, and the emotions he found there were raw and unfiltered. And his stomach knotted with what he was seeing. Fear.

  “I have experienced the lash of your tongue, Captain, in our skirmishes, and I worry at the anger you still hold against me.”

  Robert blinked, instantly regretting his callous words. He couldn’t have been more thunderstruck if she had proceeded to dance a ji
g while balancing a tea tray on her head in front of the Prince Regent.

  What he had mistaken as a fit of petulance was actually fear. His conscience writhed, and he was forced to reflect on his own behaviour, and it did not paint a pretty picture. He should be flogged at the gratings for some of the cruel things he had not only thought but said to her face. He’d practically had to bully the poor girl to the altar, even if his intentions had been honourable. If it had been Preston, no doubt he could have achieved the same result but with persuasion and style. Robert couldn’t blame her, and though she might no longer love him, the fickle emotion having perished in the inferno of their passionate youth, theirs could be a strong marriage, built on respect and liking and desire. But that part would have to wait until she had become accustomed to the idea.

  “Katherine—”

  The carriage wheel hit a deep rut and bucked Katherine from her seat. Robert caught her before she hit the floor. With a grunt, he hefted her upwards and pulled her next to him on the seat. But her eyes captured his absolute attention, so expressive, but secrets still lurked behind those blue depths. The usual unruly curl broke free from her coiffure, and he brushed it behind her ear. It was telling when she didn’t move away. Perhaps there was hope for them after all.

  Up close, he could see the smudges under her eyes. “Have you been sleeping, Kitty?”

  She made to push away from him, but he held her, inspiration striking.

  “I’d wager not,” he coaxed. “Why don’t you rest awhile?”

  “But,” she started to argue and made a move to lift herself again.

  The reins on Robert’s temper were fast fraying. Even when he was trying to be selfless she’d argue. And believe him, having her warm little body snuggled into his side when he could not act upon it was going to be a kind of torture, specifically designed in the realm of Hades.

  He fixed her with a look he usually reserved for cocksure junior officers.

  “Rest,” he ordered sternly.

  For a moment, he didn’t think she would acquiesce, but slowly, her eyes never leaving his face, she lowered her head to the hollow of his shoulder, and he secured her to his side.

  “You have no reason to fear me, Katherine. We will talk after dinner. Would that put your mind at ease?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  In no time at all, the stiff line of her body eased and her breathing evened out. Forget tired, the poor girl was exhausted and wound tighter than a spinning top. He held her closer, loving the feel and weight of her in his arms again. The sweet scent of lavender teased his nose, and the silken hair tickled his cheek. Unable to help himself, he turned his head and pressed a chaste kiss to her brow. She shifted, sighing sleepily, and his cravat suddenly became a noose. His loins stirred, and he bit the inside of his cheek, stifling an agonised groan. There would be none of that. After so many misunderstandings, they were now bound for life, and they could either be miserable together or strive to carve out something more.

  “Kitty.’’

  The warm pillow called to her, and Kitty curled closer, burying her face and avoiding the cold nipping at her nose and cheeks.

  “Kitty, we are arriving, you need to wake up, dearest.”

  Forcing open eyes that felt like they had been pasted shut, Kitty blinked, clearing away the cobwebs. A firm jaw and warm sensual lips that kicked up at the corner came into focus. She scrubbed the back of her hand over her face.

  “I apologise, you must have been most uncomfortable the entire journey.” She righted herself, and tried to regain her bearings. “Do I look like a complete fright?”

  A molten gaze raked over her. Robert lazed in his corner, and an answering warmth coiled within her.

  “Deliciously tousled actually.”

  Kitty’s cheeks heated. “You are hopeless.” She sniffed but was secretly charmed by his appraisal, though torn by her reaction. Should she be pleased?

  They tumbled down the drive, curving round the bend to reveal a modest country house, by some standards. It had a smart brick facade, the windows gleaming in the bright winter sunshine. The carriage came to a stop, and Robert helped her down with a guiding hand on the small of her back. They moved towards the assembled staff. Kitty ran an approving eye over them. Smartly turned out, they looked the part, shining like recently minted pennies, no doubt anxious to meet the new owner of Harkham Hall.

  Pushing away her melancholy, Kitty forced her lips into what she hoped was a warm, tentative smile.

  The butler stepped forward. An anxious air coiled about him despite his aloof, competent demeanour. “Captain Vaughn, I hope you have had a pleasant journey. My name is Crosby. We have your rooms ready.”

  Robert cleared his throat. “Thank you for your forethought, Crosby. I would like to present my wife, Mrs Vaughn.”

  Not a muscle moved on Crosby’s face, and Kitty sensed they were being judged. She tilted her chin up a notch, determined not to be found wanting. First impressions were important, with servants being either a great help or hindrance to a new mistress

  “Ma’am.” He bowed. “On behalf of the staff, may we wish you every happiness.”

  “Thank you, Crosby, please pass on my thanks for their kind thoughts.”

  They made their way down the assembly line, meeting the thinly veiled curiosity of the staff, and she fixed a smile firmly in place. She was introduced to Mrs Mellor, the housekeeper, with a trim figure and a kind, open face. If the house was a reflection of her tidy appearance, they would get along famously.

  Together, they got through the ordeal and turned to more practical things.

  “What time have you prepared dinner for, Mrs Allen?” Kitty asked.

  “The meal will be ready for half past five, Mrs Vaughn,” the cook, a chatterbox of a woman, replied before rethinking. “But I can push it back if you would prefer, ma’am.”

  Barely enough time to change, but Kitty was beginning to vaguely hear the first pangs of hunger from not consuming anything all day but a piece of dry toast. She was quick to reassure her—it didn’t do to upset a cook. “That will be perfect, thank you, Mrs Allen.”

  Robert leaned down and put his lips near her ear. “I will see you at three bells, Katherine.”

  His breath fluttered the curls on her nape, and a stab desire shot through her, his voice and touch hinting at an intimacy that they would soon be expected to share.

  Kitty shook the feelings away and shot him an askance look over her shoulder. “Three bells?”

  Robert tugged at his neckcloth, and for some reason, the sight charmed her.

  “Apologies, force of habit, it is a navy term for half past five.”

  Robert didn’t offer anything more and, marshalling her thoughts, Kitty put her best foot forward. “Mrs Mellor, would you kindly show me to my chamber. It has been a rather exciting day.”

  “This way, Mrs Vaughn.”

  She led the way up a staircase, and Kitty stepped through the portal. It was a large, airy room, the furniture made from a light rosewood, and Spillers, her ladies’ maid, was already in the process of packing away her garments.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs Vaughn?” the housekeeper asked, hovering with an anxious air to please her new mistress.

  “No, I have all I need, Mrs Mellor, thank you.”

  The door clicked shut, and Kitty was left alone with her thoughts and studiously ignored the connecting door that would lead to the master bedroom.

  A fire in the grate cast the furniture in a cheery glow and welcomed her farther into the chamber, as did the comforting presence of Spillers. She peeled off her outer garments and tossed the bonnet onto the seat of the bay window.

  “Did you have a good journey down, Spillers?”

  “Oh, yes, Miss Kit—” Spillers broke off with a giggle. “My apologies. I should say Mrs Vaughn. I was most comfortable.”

  The name still sounded foreign to Kitty’s own ears, and she fought a grimace.

  “And have you
been suitably situated?” Kitty asked, peering through the frosted glass at the manicured gardens at the front of the house.

  Spillers launched into how the staff had been most welcoming and that Mrs Mellor ran a tight ship. Kitty nodded absently before jerking herself out of her thoughts.

  “Spillers, has the blue satin been pressed?”

  “Yes, Miss Kitty, it was done yesterday.”

  “Excellent, I will wear it for dinner. Look sharp, we need to be ready for half past the hour.”

  “It’s country hours, Miss Kitty, it will take some getting used to.” Spillers sniffed, not hiding her thoughts on country living, having resided most of her life in London. Despite her sombre mood Kitty found herself fighting a smile.

  “Yes, it will,” Kitty murmured and gave herself over to Spillers’ expert ministrations.

  Kitty rushed into the dining room with unladylike haste and a flush on her cheeks. She knew how punctual Robert liked to be. She blamed it on his navy background.

  She skittered to a halt as he turned from the window where he had obviously been nursing his claret. “Apologies for keeping you waiting, I got lost.” In fact, she’d had to find a passing footman to point her in the right direction or else go from room to room, hoping to stumble across the correct one.

  Robert stared at her, his gaze running up and down the length of her body in the most peculiar way. Feeling quite on the spot and conscious of his intense scrutiny, she smoothed her gown.

  “Is there something wrong with my appearance, sir?”

  Robert cleared his throat and jolted into action. “You are most becoming in that gown, Katherine. Are you ready to be seated?” He gave her a strained smile and proffered her his arm.

  At that moment, a low rumble came from her belly, and mortification consumed her, but she carried on. “Yes, thank you.”

  Robert made no comment, seating her at one end of the table before taking his rightful seat at the head. The length of polished wood yawned between them and reflected the bitter state of her marriage to date.

  The meal was a stilted affair. She was aware of the constant keen eyes of the servants. Other than the passing of the odd comment on the excellence of the white soup and beef pie, they kept their own counsel. Kitty breathed a sigh of relief when the apple and cinnamon tart was at last served, though nerves lodged a ball under her ribcage, and she failed to do the delicious meal justice.