Once Upon a Christmas Wedding

by Scarlett Scott

  The Fox Katherine had known would be totally repulsed by such a spectacle. But then, Katherine had to admit some doubt as to whether she had ever really known Foxleigh. Perhaps he might be swayed by Marie’s great drama of blighted passion.

  She doubted it, but she no longer had the heart to watch their exchange. Her stomach sickened and her feet felt like lead, but she shuffled away down the path, gradually growing frantic and beginning to run. She feared she might become hysterical any moment.

  Think of something else. She began mentally planning her escape. It was a matter of days until she would have to leave the dwelling. There was nothing to be done about that.

  Fox’s sense of obligation and honour would make him stay and try to persuade her to wed him, and Marie would therefore always be lurking in the background. With all the people tramping about, there would be no practicable way for her to carry out her highwayman scheme without getting caught. Katherine would have to leave soon enough. She might as well do it now.

  What of her darling French hens? A mad resolve gripped her. She would not leave them. An old hat box should be large enough for them. She would stuff them onto the sled.

  What of Dog? Dog! She lurched to a stop, turning in momentary panic. But he halted beside her, smiling as though there was something to smile about. “Oh!” She hissed out a relieved sigh. “Thought I had left you behind.”

  She patted him and he licked her hand. At least she had Dog. What had she ever done to deserve this faithful friend? She looked to the heavens, panting to catch her breath.

  An object in the branches of one of the trees caught her eye. A pear. The crop had not been very big this year, and she had eaten all that she could reach, but a few remained on the higher branches.

  Katherine squinted. There were more. She could count at least five. This variety required a frost before they got tasty. They might be soft now, but they would at least be edible. Dog would not be interested, but it would be something to feed the hens on the way. On the way where? She would sort that out later. There was no time for doubts or delay.

  “You can stand watch, Dog. Bark if anyone is coming.” Of course he would not bark. He was a bloodhound and would bray like a donkey for all the countryside to hear. But he walked a ways back on the path and lay down at its edge, so he either understood or was planning to take a nap.

  The cold air chilled her legs as she tucked up her skirts into her apron and began to climb.

  Chapter 14

  And a Duke in a Pear Tree

  Foxleigh wished he were not still so maddeningly weak and slow. He leaned against a tree and waited for the latest wave of dizziness to pass. After a few deep breaths, he hurried on as quickly as he could manage. The spells were not as bad as they had been, but the last thing he needed was the embarrassment and inconvenience of fainting and bumping his head.

  But what if he were not in time, and Katherine escaped before he could catch her?

  Up ahead he caught sight of Dog lying at the roadside. That was odd. The hound sprang up and began howl-barking.

  “Hello lad!” Foxleigh approached and petted Dog, who rubbed his head against Foxleigh’s leg, stared at him intently, then walked up the path, suddenly halting and sitting down. His nose pointed into the trees.

  Foxleigh hastened to the spot. “All right, Dog? Where is your mistress?”

  “Where is yours?” came a slightly muffled but unmistakably acerbic reply.

  Foxleigh peered up into the branches and spied a great entanglement of skirts and locks of raven black hair. “She is not my mistress. But she is back there, somewhere, still throwing a fit, I assume. Or perhaps she has stopped, now that she has no audience.”

  He admired the view of Kat’s beautifully shaped legs and the perfect orbs of her buttocks, the contours of which were plainly visible through the threadbare sheaf of her underskirt, which clung heroically to its charge, defending the last shreds of her modesty. He chuckled.

  “Stop snickering, you idiot. This is not humorous in the least, and it is your ruddy fault!”

  “My fault? How so?” He was now openly laughing.

  “If you had not come here to persecute me with that dreadful woman in tow, I would not be forced to flee, and…” Her voice trailed off weakly.

  “And? You thought taking to the trees was the best mode of escape? And here I am the one with a bump on the head!”

  “Your entire head is a bump, if you think you are amusing in the slightest. If you must know, I was thinking of my hens.”

  “Your hens?”

  “I was going to take them with me when I quitted the cottage, but I needed something to feed them on the way, and I spied a few winter pears left up here.”

  “You are quite mad. Do you know that?”

  A muffled snort came from the knot of fabric, and her voice quavered. “Just get me out of this damned tree before I freeze, will you? My skirt is caught on something.”

  Foxleigh’s heart soared. She was asking for his help! Might she not care about him still a little bit, despite everything? He made his way with renewed vigor to the base of the tree and looked up. This angle was even more revealing. His loins stirred. Steady now, Foxleigh.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “Tsk. So impatient. Recall that I am an invalid, after all.”

  “You are a bacon-brain!”

  “Perhaps. But that only means it takes a tad longer for my slow wit to savour the moment, for I wish always to remember you like this.”

  “Cad!” She tried to sound stern, but he could hear the laughter in her voice. “When I get down from this tree I will give you another bump on the head.”

  “With such an inducement as that, how can I further delay?” He found a low branch and began to ascend.

  The problem was, when he neared the spot where her clothing was tangled, he could not see which branch it was caught upon. “Apologies, Katherine, but you have things all twisted up in a ball. I shall have to feel around in your skirts to find the branch that is the culprit.”

  “I suppose you say that to all the ladies.”

  Laughter overtook him, and he almost fell off his perch. “Do not make me laugh, now. Be serious!” But he loved her so. And if they could laugh together, even in such a fix as this, there was hope. Their future bliss blazed bright before his eyes, as he found the branch at the center of the tangle and began to pull the fabric away from it.

  He almost had it. One more heave and it must come free. But his efforts unbalanced him, and he suddenly fell from his branch several feet before his own coat hung up upon something and mercifully brought him to a lurching halt.

  “Fox!” Her voice was a screech.

  She had called him Fox. A stupid smile split his face. “I am well, Kat! Do not be alarmed.” He wanted to add my darling, but restrained himself. Better not to test his luck. Yet his heart was full of her and called her by every endearment, even as he dangled precariously from the tree.

  “Thank God in heaven! Can you get free?”

  “I, um, do not believe that would be advisable, as my entanglement is the only thread by which I hang, at the moment. Remind me to give my tailor a bonus.”

  “Is there another branch you can hold on to?”

  He looked about him. “There is one beneath me and to the right. I think I can reach it with my toe.” It would involve some twisting.

  “Can you get a leg over?”

  He smirked. “That remains to be seen.”

  “Loathsome scoundrel! You deserve to fall. Now try to focus!”

  “I shall try, but I am still feeling dizzy, you know.” When he shifted his weight to stretch toward the branch, an ominous cracking noise sounded above him. “Ah, well. Perhaps it is better if I do not move so much. I believe we require assistance.”

  “What a brilliant surmise. Perhaps we could get Marie stuck up here as well. That would be terribly cozy.”

  “Perish the thought. But what of Dog? Can he not go fetch someone to c
ome to our aid?”

  “Who should come, you daft man? Did you not notice that I live alone in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Oh, about that. I hired some servants in the village. They are all busy about your cottage. I am sure Dog could get their attention.” He looked about for the hound, who was nowhere to be seen. “If only he were here.”

  “Is he gone?” Katherine sounded concerned. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. He has run off, I am afraid. The infidel. I am sorry I shared my dinner with him, now.”

  “You gave him your food?” She snorted with disdain. “I had no idea he had been bribed. I merely thought he had bad taste.”

  “You wound me. But as your dog likes me so well, you will never be rid of me now.”

  A gasp sounded from the ball of skirts, but she said nothing. His heart glowed warmer. There was a chance. He would do everything in his power to woo her. Only he had to get them out of this tree.

  At that moment Dog returned, a stout manservant following him.

  “Your grace!” The man’s lip twitched, but to Foxleigh’s amazement he managed to avoid collapsing in a fit of laughter. He cleared his throat. “May I be of assistance?”

  “What do you suppose? Yes, you can ruddy well be of assistance! Go find a ladder, for God’s sake!”

  When they made it down safely, Foxleigh’s pride was mortified by the realization that they had not been more than eight feet from the ground. It had seemed higher. The servant made no comment, but Foxleigh was sure the whole lot of them would have a merry laugh at his expense once the story got around, as it certainly would.

  But he did not care. It was worth it. He smoothed a tendril of Katherine’s hair back and fixed her eyes in his gaze. Her skin was flushed, and though worry clouded her eyes, traces of a smile tugged at her lips. How he wished to kiss that smile.

  “Before you think about running away again, Kat, you must accompany me back to the cottage to see what I have done. I hope you will approve. But even if you do not, please grant me a fair hearing. I am not the man you thought me to be.”

  She looked miserable and cast her eyes downward. “I know you are not. Can you not see how ashamed I am to have taken the word of that witch without even speaking to you?”

  He tilted her chin up. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Oh, but I do.”

  “Come, come! Let us get you back to the cottage and warmed up. I have brought plenty of wood for a proper fire. Come along!” He reached out a bended arm for her to take. Would she permit this liberty? Why not? He had already seen her bottom-up in a tree, after all.

  “Very well.” She shrugged and took his arm. “I did promise you another bump on the head.”

  Foxleigh leaned in and whispered in her ear. “I am looking forward to it.”

  He spied Marie’s carriage waiting in the lane. Foxleigh scowled.

  Not letting go of Katherine’s arm, he turned to the man servant. “Mills. There is a woman out near the henhouse—just follow this path. Kindly escort her back to her equipage here and send her on her way. She is not to be received again.”

  His beloved should nevermore be subjected to Marie’s odious company. If he had his way, Katherine would quit this place with him immediately. He ushered her forward eagerly. He could not wait to show her his surprise.

  Chapter 15

  License and Licentiousness

  Katherine’s emotions were still all in a turmoil, though at least her heart was no longer pounding.

  Before they even reached the front stoop of her house the ambrosial scent of roasting meat and fresh bread greeted her nostrils. It smelled marvelous! It had been such a long time since she had even sniffed anything this good that she thought she might be dreaming.

  But if she was, then she didn’t care. Foxleigh was beside her, smelling even better than whatever was cooking inside, and she and Dog were about to have a feast. If it was a dream, she did not wish to awake from it.

  As they stepped through the door, a roaring red fire in the grate cheered her, and her skin stung with the sudden warmth. She was sad to have Foxleigh withdraw his arm, although decorum demanded it.

  Decorum! She could imagine that servant Mills making up vile ditties and describing the sight of her bottom suspended in a tree for the amusement of all the servants. Arse Poetica. Perfect.

  And yet, what was a little humiliation before the help? She could forgive the whole lot of them, if only they would bring her a few slices of that roast on the spit, and a pot of butter to spread on that crusty bread.

  Foxleigh gestured for her to sit down and supplied her with a glass of wine. A real glass, not a rough clay tumbler. Fine imported crystal!

  She swirled the ruby liquid around and let the firelight ignite it into glimmering fairy sparks. It dazzled her, transported her to a time when she went from happiness to happiness, never wanting for anything. Then she closed her eyes and buried her nose in the goblet. It was glorious. Her single, reserved sip turned into a long guzzling drink. She smiled blissfully and opened her eyes to behold Foxleigh, watching her with an intense and glistening stare.

  “Are you… crying?”

  “Not at all.” He cleared his throat. “I was waiting for you to smack your lips and wipe your mouth on your sleeve.”

  She cocked a brow. “I had no idea my manners were so unsightly as to make a grown man weep. I suppose starvation will do that to you.”

  “I was not weeping.”

  “Quite.”

  “Look, if you must know, I have been beside myself with worry that you would expire from hunger while I was detained in the village. It broke my heart to see you in such a state. So yes, I am moved to see you enjoying the simple pleasure of a glass of wine.” He turned away and gestured at the servants who rushed to bring her a plate piled high with roast beef and pork tart and a thick, butter drenched slice of bread.

  Her mouth watered and she knew she was staring at her meal like a wild beast. She willed herself to look at him and not the plate.

  He grinned at her and her heart flopped. “Now I hope you will enjoy this simple repast with as much savagery as you wish.”

  “Wait, though. I will not eat until Dog has been given his portion.”

  Foxleigh laughed and gave the servants a meaningful look. “Cut it up in small pieces so he does not swallow it whole.”

  When Dog stood beside her on the floor, gobbling down his roast, Katherine permitted herself to cut into her beef. It was as rare as she could have liked and she swirled it into the peppery gravy, mingling the juices with the cream and mushrooms, only permitting herself to take a small bite. It was heavenly—juicy, succulent and smoky, with the perfect amount of crisp fat at the edge. She could devour it all at once, but she forced herself to take one more tiny morsel, gradually submitting to the spell of the warm fire, good wine and wonderful, glorious food.

  She paused to take another sip from the glass that had mysteriously been refilled, staring over the rim at the smoldering gaze of Foxleigh. Then she made herself wait a full minute before beginning to eat again. She did not wish to make a spectacle of herself. Besides, if she ate with abandon, it would all come back up. That was not a memory of her that she wished Foxleigh to ever have.

  To distract herself from hunger she asked, “Are you enjoying my display of barbarism?”

  His eyes twinkled. “It is good to see you still know how to use a knife and fork.”

  She took an especially large bite of warm buttery bread and chewed it defiantly. “I still owe you a knock on the head, you know.”

  “I thought you might like to see all the surprises I have in store for you before you incapacitate me.” His smile was dazzling.

  Her heart beat faster, and only the irresistible allure of another forkful of food drew her gaze away from him.

  When she had eaten as much as she dared and finished another glass of wine, a pleasant torpor washed over her, but the way that Foxleigh was looking at her made her feel d
ownright drunk. His eyes blazed with pure lust. She felt giddy with possibilities.

  The servants had withdrawn—to where she had no idea—and her reputation was as good as ruined anyway, for Marie would certainly see to that. Why should she not enjoy the crime for which she was to have the punishment? And anyway, she was a poor woman with no prospects at all, so it really did not matter if she spent the night with a beautiful man.

  Well, no prospects except for entrapping Foxleigh by exploiting his sense of honour. That she would never do, no matter how her heart longed to have him for her own and for always. But why could she not have him for one night?

  “Your eyes are even more full of mischief than usual. I wonder what you could be thinking.”

  Katherine laughed nervously. She could feel the colour rising to her cheeks. “You would have to pay me much more than a penny for these thoughts.”

  There was something beyond lust in his eyes. A spark of hope flickered within her. Could it be more than honour that motivated his proposal? Might he truly have feelings for her still?

  “I will not drag them out of you.” He stood to retrieve a sheaf of papers before returning to his seat. “But I do have something of value to offer, nonetheless.”

  He handed her the documents and she thumbed through them. “What is this?”

  “It is your security. This property is now yours—or will be as soon as the transfer is complete. I have set up a trust to hold it for you as the beneficiary. It is sufficiently funded to pay the taxes for your lifetime.” He looked at her earnestly, as though trying to detect her thoughts.

  Hot tears welled up in her eyes. So this was his business in the village—well that and rounding up staff, food and trappings to make her hovel more comfortable. He was so good, and yet all the hope drained out of her.