by Erica Ridley
He had promised himself he would immediately clasp the locket about his neck for safekeeping, but he needed to gaze upon his parents’ faces once more. The hollowness he’d carried inside all these years would fill with love once more. With family. He unlocked the clasp and opened the locket.
There they were. Faded with time, but finally back in his hands. His pulse slowed. He should be full of warmth, of victory. The emptiness should have receded. He had everything he always wanted.
And yet the hollowness remained.
“Is something amiss?” asked the jeweler with concern.
He snapped the locket closed. “Nothing. Thank you for giving me my family back. I will take good care of them.”
Before she could ask any more questions, Benjamin strode out of her workroom and back out onto the front stoop. The blustery wind blew over the town and through his chest.
He lifted the chain to his throat and clasped it about his neck.
No. This would not do.
He unwound the scarf, untied his cravat, and slid the gold oval underneath his shirt until it nestled against his heart. He frowned.
The locket’s return should warm him more than any scarf, than any cravat, and any amount of wool or cozy fire. Instead, he felt cold. Every gust of wind seemed icier than the one before, penetrating his great coat and his waistcoat and his linen shirt until it sliced all the way through his soul.
He curled his hands into fists and glared up at the relentless blue sky. Why hadn’t the return of the locket given him all the things he had hoped it would bring? He had his family back. He had his mother right next to his heart.
But the portrait’s return failed to vanquish the loneliness and emptiness and resentfulness. The locket bore a permanent place about his neck, but failed to fill the hole in his chest. The heirloom was a memento he would always cherish, but still just a thing.
His breath shuddered. Now that he had the locket back, he realized the awful truth. A portrait was just paint, no matter how much he might like to believe otherwise. It didn’t erase the pain. His mother’s likeness could not replicate the real person. The happy family in the miniature would never exist again. The moment it represented was long gone, just like his parents.
His chest clenched. What was better, to cleave to a faded likeness or to keep loved ones close while one still had them? The answer was clear.
He wrapped the scarf Noelle had made him back around his neck and cut through the wind toward the castle. She was the one person he could count on. He was not yet ready for goodbye.
When he drew close, the aviary was still bursting at the seams. Townspeople spilled across its threshold and milled about the garden. Benjamin doubted Noelle was among the revelers. She was one of the few who hadn’t been looking forward to the aviary’s launch.
He circled around the bustling crowd and entered the vacant castle. Nothing but silence greeted him. Benjamin’s footfalls echoed as he raced up six flights of steps to Noelle’s chamber.
When she opened the door, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted to. The heat of her mouth was the only warmth he required. Her embrace, more than enough protection from the cold. Nothing else mattered but holding her tight.
At last, he forced himself to lift his head. “May I come in?”
“Please do.” With a blush, she shut the door behind him and gestured toward a receiving area before the fire.
His nerves were far too raw for sitting down, but he followed her anyway. He was not ready to let her out of his sight.
Her eyes were full of questions. He no longer believed he had any answers.
“Silkridge…” she began.
“Benjamin,” he said firmly. “I’ve no wish to stand on formalities with you of all people.”
“What do you want?” she said quietly.
You.
Happiness.
A new life. A different world. One where they could be together. Anything but this.
He tossed his hat onto the closest chair and shoved a hand through his hair.
Noelle gazed up at him uncertainly from behind her spectacles. “I thought you went to fetch the locket.”
“I did.”
The words sounded as cold and hollow as the yawning cavern in his chest. Nothing about today had gone as planned. Now that he was here, what could he expect but more heartache?
Her fingertips brushed against the back of his hand. “What happened?”
“It’s what didn't happen,” he said at last. “I thought…”
Her gaze softened. “Start at the beginning.”
“I can’t remember the beginning,” he said bitterly. But he forced the words out anyway. “My mother died shortly after giving birth to me. That was my first Christmastide. The only one where I had a family. The last time my father celebrated anything at all.”
Her eyes widened in understanding. “You never had a Christmas.”
“Not one I’d wish to repeat. I lost my father during the same time of year, and just as suddenly.” He let out a shaky breath. “Everyone I have ever loved has been taken from me before I could say goodbye.”
“Is that why…” she began hesitantly. “…the locket means so much?”
“It’s more than a locket.”
He lay his great coat and scarf over the back of an armchair and tossed his cravat atop the seat.
His neck felt bare. Exposed. But he was about to expose even more. He lifted the locket from beneath the linen of his shirt and allowed it to fall back against his chest.
“It’s beautiful.” She lifted her hands as if to touch the gold frame then let them fall without doing so. Her eyes met his.
“Go ahead,” he said. “You can meet my mother.”
Gently, she slid her hand between the locket and his chest and undid the clasp.
He held his breath.
From this angle, he could not see the portrait inside, but he had committed it to memory. Right now, he was not looking at the locket. He was looking at Noelle.
“You look like both of them,” she murmured. “Handsome as your father, but with your mother’s eyes.”
His throat grew tight. They wouldn’t recognize him now. “I suppose I’ve grown a bit since that portrait was painted.”
A soft smile curved her lips. “You’ll have to hang this next to your most recent likeness in your hall of portraits.”
He didn’t answer.
Her brow furrowed. “You haven’t a hall of portraits? I thought all titled families…”
“There aren’t any of me,” he said. Just the thought gave him chills. “After my mother died, my father never posed for another portrait. Neither did I.”
Her eyes widened, and she returned her reverent gaze to the locket. “This miniature truly is beautiful. I hope it has brought you the peace that you sought.”
“It didn’t.” Somehow, he kept his voice from cracking.
She glanced up sharply. “It wasn’t as you remembered it?”
“It was exactly as I remembered,” he said. “And nothing more. I thought… I was certain…”
She touched the locket’s delicate frame. “How did you lose it?”
“What I lost was my family. The locket was stolen from me. My grandfather felt he had more claim to his daughter than a child did of his own mother.”
She drew in her breath. “That’s why you hated him.”
“I didn’t hate him. He hated me.” Benjamin took a deep breath. “Mother died of complications caused by my birth. She barely lasted a month. That was my fault.”
“It was not your fault,” Noelle said sharply, her eyes fierce.
“Tell that to Grandfather,” he said with a curl of his lip. “I always thought if I could get the locket back, I could get my family back. Part of them, anyway. This was the one piece I had. The only tangible thing I could hold onto.”
“Until he took it,” she murmured quietly. “That must have hurt deeply.”
It had been devastating. This was the first time Benjamin had ever spoken about how it had felt. His pulse felt wild and uneven.
“I should have expected it,” he admitted. “Grandfather despised me from the moment of my birth. He blamed my father, too. I was a child. I didn’t understand. All I knew was that my mother was gone, but I still had a grandfather. My letters went unanswered, he was suddenly too busy to be disturbed any time Father brought me for a visit. As I got older, I realized he had no interest in getting to know me. He wished I hadn’t been born.”
Noelle gasped. “Surely he would never wish—”
“He said so to my face,” Benjamin said flatly. “That was my mistake, too. When he invited me five years ago, I should have suspected a trap. It turned out, he’d learned of the locket. I was so eager to finally make peace, of course I handed it over when he asked for a closer look. That was the last time I saw it. Grandfather threw me out of the castle—”
“Threw out his own grandson?” she said in shock. “A duke?”
“I wasn’t a duke yet, and he didn’t give two figs about his grandson. He had what he wanted, and it wasn’t me.”
“That was… the day after our kiss?” she asked.
Benjamin nodded. “I never came back.”
“You weren’t allowed back.” Her eyes flashed. “Your grandfather wouldn’t let you.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Either way, I’ve come to regret it.”
She tilted her head. “You think things would have worked out differently if you had tried to visit your grandfather again?”
“Not him.” Benjamin stepped closer. “I regret all those years without seeing you. At the very least, we deserved a chance to say goodbye.”
“You didn’t get to say goodbye to your grandfather, either,” she said quietly.
“I’ve never gotten to say goodbye to anyone I care about.” His chest tightened at the barrage of memories. “I can’t let it happen again.”
She lowered her gaze. “That’s why you’re here.”
“Not the only reason.” He couldn’t stay away. That was the problem.
He was not used to making confessions of any kind. Had insulated himself on purpose so that he would not ever be in a position where he was expected to slice open his heart and bare what he kept inside.
With her, he felt even more vulnerable. But she was different. Noelle did not judge him or shower him with platitudes. She simply listened and understood.
He had never known how powerful such a simple act could be.
His heart thumped wildly against the back of her hand where she held the locket. The miniature inside was his most prized possession. Its protective gold housing symbolized not just family, but love.
The blank spots on the other side of his parents’ faces had been meant for a new family portrait. His own, perhaps. It was now destined to remain empty. He had vowed to never again risk his heart on something so fleeting as love or family, but if he ever were to do so…
He reached behind his neck and unclasped the chain.
The locket pooled into Noelle’s open palm and she glanced up at him, startled. “I didn’t mean for you to—”
Her words cut off as Benjamin reached behind her neck and reaffixed the clasp.
Now the locket lay not against his heart, but hers.
“Don’t give up on family,” she whispered.
“I’m not,” he answered and pulled her into his arms.
This kiss was different from all the others. Neither a claiming nor a submission, but a flaying open, a laying bare. This kiss was who he was. His hopes, his fears, his grief, his desire. He hoped he could make her understand.
Benjamin had not given up on his family. His grandfather had closed himself off. His parents had been stolen away to heaven. That was it. There was no one left to give up on. No reason for hope at all.
Noelle’s kisses had made him yearn for a happy ending. That a wish could come true, that vulnerability could bring joy instead of grief. That love did not merely have to be a symbol, but rather something real and true and lasting.
But he knew better.
When he broke the kiss, it was as if a piece of his heart broke with it. He had to get out of Cressmouth. Away from the false hope of endless Christmas. Everything about it reminded him of anger and loss. Everything except her.
He did not agree with Society’s view that an orphan like Noelle was beneath him and unworthy. But his feelings didn’t matter. As a duke, he was forced to operate within that society. To make deals and alliances. To uphold conventions and expectations.
He could promise her nothing but heartbreak.
“I can’t stay,” he whispered hoarsely.
She nodded. “I know. I’ve always known.”
“I never wanted to leave you,” he said hoarsely, lest she doubt the demons that drove him. “I had to leave this town. I still do. It reminds me…”
She reached up to caress his cheek.
He leaned into her warmth. “I have no good Christmas memories.”
“Until now.” She wrapped her hands around his neck. “Let’s make some new ones.”
His heart thumped and he crushed his mouth to hers.
Perhaps she was right. The past was the past. It was time to make new memories. Time to risk lowering his guard, if only for a moment.
Tonight was all they could ever have.
His blood raced. What would it be like to let go of all the old fear, all the shame and anger, and give himself over to the moment completely? Could exposing his heart bring more joy than he’d ever believed possible?
Or would making himself vulnerable to intimacy cut even deeper?
Chapter 12
Noelle swayed as her runaway pulse pounded through her veins. She wrapped her arms about Benjamin and held on tight, the locket about her neck now sheltered between two hearts instead of one. Perhaps then they could be whole.
She did not blame him for the estranged relationship with his grandfather. Nor could she blame him for the resulting distaste for all things Cressmouth and Christmas.
Her heart dipped in sympathy. They had both lost their parents. It was not an easy thing to get over.
Noelle had never had a family portrait before, or any relic of her parents whatsoever. Had she possessed such a priceless heirloom, she would have cherished it above all others. No wonder Benjamin had done the same.
By entrusting his most treasured possession to her keeping, it was as though he was sharing his family with her. As if she too were deserving of such love. As if Noelle held equal weight in his heart.
How could she help but love him?
Her pulse skipped in warning. It was no longer a suspicion in the back of her mind. She was hopelessly, madly, deeply in love with a man who would leave her behind. Abandon her, just as her own parents had done.
No. Not as her parents had done. They had left no sign, no word, no token of affection. Benjamin was here. His lips pressed to hers, his tongue hot and demanding. From any other man, a locket would be nothing more than a piece of jewelry. In Benjamin’s case, he had given her his heart.
At least, as much as he was willing to part with.
Could she not do the same? She yearned to reveal herself to him, body and soul. The thought of such a risk terrified her now more than ever, but this was their last opportunity.
“I thought you didn’t want me,” she whispered against his mouth.
He raised his head sharply, his gaze intense. “I pushed you away not because I don’t want you, but because I cannot keep you. Yet I long for you like a sapling longs for rain. Although I know I cannot stay, I long to touch you, to taste you, to feel you against my skin.”
Noelle’s lungs caught. She had known he would not offer empty promises. Those words were simultaneously the most romantic and the most devastating thing he could have said to her.
The golden locket about her neck was the reason he had returned to Cressmouth. The locket was the reaso
n he was here in her arms right now. It was his heart, divided into halves. One side contained the past. The other side was for the future.
They had both seen that the future was empty. But today did not have to be.
She wanted Benjamin more than anything under the sun. Their differences might be irreconcilable, but she wouldn’t let that stop her from enjoying him for as long as she could.
“I never stopped thinking of you,” she confessed between kisses. “Night after night, replaying your touch in my mind. Your kiss. Wondering what else we might have shared if we’d had time.”
His dark gaze was tortured. “It isn’t just time that divides us. If it weren’t for everything that lies outside these walls, I would make love to you all night.”
A delicious shiver slid down her spine. She sank her fingers into his hair to pull him close. “Then why don’t you?”
His mouth claimed hers, his hands cupping her bottom to pull her tight against him. “Because you deserve so much more than I can give.”
He was trying to scare her away. It wouldn’t work. Noelle already knew the end of the story and was choosing him anyway. If her heart was destined to break, she would take every bit of pleasure while she still could.
“Give what you can,” she whispered. “Take what you please.”
His breath was ragged. “Noelle—”
“One night,” she said as she tasted his lips. “Unless you aren’t interested.”
“All I want is you,” he growled. “But if I cannot offer marriage, I certainly cannot rob you of your virginity.”
“You cannot steal what is freely given,” she reminded him.
“It’s not honorable,” he said, want and indecision warring in his eyes. “A gentleman wouldn’t—”
“—say ‘no’ to a lady. Especially not if it’s what he wants, too.” She cupped his cheek. “If there won’t be a second chance, shouldn’t we take the one we have?”
He kissed the inside of her palm, her wrist, her lips. “Being with you is the one thing that makes me happy.”
She wrapped her arms about his neck. “Don’t we deserve one night of happiness together?”
