Once Upon a Christmas Wedding

by Scarlett Scott

  The next day dawned cold and clear. After writing Ian’s name with her finger on the frosted pane of her bedroom window, and staring aimlessly at the forlorn view of the carriage sweep outside, she dressed warmly, mentally preparing herself to bustle about the house, making sure of supplies, counting candles, adding to the pantry list, settling an argument between her old nurse and the housekeeper.

  Rose’s maid would be brought back to the country with her parents. Nurse thought she could act as her maid in the meantime, but the most likely contender, Amy from last night, was determined to collar Rose every time she saw her to explain why the job should be hers. She won, because nurse would notice the black puffiness under Rose’s eyes, and want to interfere.

  Merry apparently preferred living in the country. She loved the kitchen, which was always warm. But she got underfoot and when she had tripped cook over for the third time, she was brought back to Rose.

  “Dear Merry. Such a sweet little cat, always wanting to help,” Rose said in a sympathetic voice when the annoyed cat was deposited in the drawing room. “Cook already has a very good taster and she says your skills are not required.” She lifted the cat to her cheek and nuzzled her face into the soft little belly.

  Merry batted her cheeks, but without claws. “I expect you are missing Sir Ian?” Rose said.

  Merry indicated that the question was an unwelcome reminder. She pushed out of Rose’s arms and sat beside the fire at a right angle, gradually coming closer and closer to being sociable.

  By the time Rose’s parents arrived back with her two brothers, the cat had begun to look at Rose whenever she moved.

  “Darling,” her mother screeched as she entered the hallway where Rose had rushed to meet her. “I hear you were caught in the snowstorm.” She grabbed Rose and kissed her.

  “It was no inconvenience,” Rose said, knowing the story would have been repeated to her parents by the coachman when he had driven up to London to get them. “We would have had to stay overnight regardless.” She couldn’t look at her mother. After being rejected by the only man she would ever love, she had tried to forget that horrible journey, and she didn’t want reminders. “You’ll be pleased to hear we are ready for Christmas.”

  Mama glanced at the vaulted ceiling. “We still have to hang the boughs. Boys, tomorrow you will need to help your father gather the willow wood.”

  The two scuffled in a mock fight, challenging each other to find the best bough.

  “Not now, boys, not now. Your mother said tomorrow.” Papa watched them leave, still pushing each other and trading insults, using all the energy pent up from two days spent in the carriage. Papa followed, no doubt thinking about all the catching up of paper work he had yet to do.

  Mama took Rose’s hands and led her to the fire in the drawing room to speak to her. “I hope you haven’t been lonely here by yourself.” She sat in a cozy armchair, waiting while Rose also settled herself. “But doubtless, Ian has been taking care of you. Such a dear boy. So dependable.”

  Rose glanced away. “I don’t need looking after, Mama. I’ve been too busy to socialize and it’s been lovely not having to go to balls for a while. I think I needed the peace.”

  Mama reached over and patted her hands. “Where did that little black cat come from?”

  For a moment Rose couldn’t think of an acceptable answer. She couldn’t say from an inn about which she would swear she had never heard. “I found her on the road.” True enough. “Such a tiny creature and so proud. She will still not accept my charity.”

  “She doesn’t look very sociable, does she?”

  She did not. Merry had resumed position one, that of facing the fire and ignoring people. “She takes her time in making her judgments. She preferred Sir Ian to me.”

  “Well, he is rather nice. So trustworthy. I wouldn’t have handed my daughter over to him if I didn’t know he was a perfect gentleman.”

  Rose gave a forced smile, which gradually changed into a real one, with her memories of Sir Ian forced into her mind, the first Sir Ian, the one who was kind to cats and tolerant of young admirers who set their hearts on him, not the later, hard-faced Sir Ian, who was almost frightening. That Sir Ian had kept her silent on the latter part of their journey home. “As a matter of fact, he is as nice to cats as he is to people,” she said reluctantly. “During the beginning of our journey, I rather amused myself pretending to be too dainty to take the cat to do her business. The cat, from then on, only ever asked him. I don’t know what it says about a man whom cats like. It’s not the same as a dog, is it?”

  “No dear. Cats are far more discriminating. I think we must have him over for Christmas, don’t you?”

  Rose began glancing about as if she had lost her embroidery and needed something to do with her hands. “I’m sure he has other calls on his time,” she said, her expression hidden and her voice casual.

  “We can but ask. You seem put out with him, my dear. I rather thought you had special feelings for him.”

  “Is that why you pushed us together for the trip home?”

  “Did I do the wrong thing?”

  The breath emptied out of Rose’s chest. She should have wondered why Susie hadn’t been able to go with her. Instead she had accepted that being alone with Sir Ian had been fated. Finally, she met her mother’s questioning gaze. “No. I did,” she said, her voice husky. “He didn’t want me, Mama, and I led him to believe that I wasn’t chaste.”

  Her mother took her hands. “I doubt he would believe that, darling.”

  “He did. I haven’t seen him since.”

  “That’s rather unjust of him. If he was a woman—but he’s not. Men tend to be put out by the tiniest details. I think we should give him another chance, don’t you?”

  Her throat closing over, Rose shook her head. “I don’t know how. I can’t possibly go to him and tell him that he is the only man I have ever loved.”

  “Why?”

  “Because all that would do is show him that I lied. He will know that my pride comes before the truth with me.”

  “I don’t see why you need to grovel. You made a mistake. If he can’t forgive, he doesn’t deserve you.”

  Trying to gather the remnants of her dignity, chin high, chest aching, she left the room. Ian could believe whatever he wanted to, but if his knowledge of her had led him to assume she had been less than scrupulous with any of her suitors, he didn’t love her at all.

  Chapter 9

  The Darnell’s stately butler preceded Ian through the hallway decorated with boughs, heralding the coming festivities. The snow had tapered off five days ago, but the air outside held a sharp bite. Today, more than ever, Rose was on his mind. During the past week, he had been unable to concentrate on anything but her. He would try to write a letter, and he would recall one of her absurdities and smile, before he remembered she had no intention of marrying a man who had spent most of his adult life in setting an example for younger soldiers whose life in battle depended on following his orders.

  If he had disobeyed all his rigid codes of behavior and taken what she offered, she would have had no choice other than to marry him. However, even if he didn’t love Rose, he wouldn’t break his own rules. Although she thought he was a regimented fool, he wouldn’t change a hair on her adorable head. He loved the nonsensical words she uttered which, combined with her trust, barred him from doing anything that might ruin her life. With him or without him, he wanted Rose to be happy.

  Preparing himself for the sight of her by adopting a rigid smile, he entered into the comfortable room where he had spent many a day being entertained by Rose, her suitors, her friends, and her family, a place with relaxing chairs, a crackling fire, and the most welcoming hostess a man could imagine. “Good evening, Mary.” He stopped and bowed to his favorite hostess. “Yet again, your Christmas decorations outdo the attempts of your tardy neighbors.”

  Mary Darnell, standing by the window, walked over to him, smiling as she took his hand. “Ian, my
dear. How wonderful that you were able to accept our last minute invitation to have dinner with us. Yes, the boys cut the branches and Rose managed the trimmings. Old fashioned, some might say, but Andrew’s family has upheld this tradition since Tudor times. Prettily done, don’t you think?” She led him over to his favorite chair. The room contained a faint tang of pine.

  “I could hardly say otherwise unless I wanted to insult Rose’s skills.”

  “She wouldn’t take kindly to that, Ian. She is a very proud creature. You only have to insult her once, and she will make your life impossible for ... minutes. ”

  His lips unwillingly curved. “So I always thought,” he said, checking his cuffs. His recent week had passed in time that could have been measured by ignored correspondence, staring out the window, sharpening nibs, folding and unfolding his hands, having a horse saddled, and rescinding the order rather than ride over to Rose’s home to throw himself at her mercy. Although he had tried immersing himself in work, he would end up, yet again, staring blankly at walls. “My mother and my brother’s family will be arriving tomorrow. I’m sure to be kept busy for the next week and I did want to see you before Christmas.” The door opened and the boys, Richard and Robert, hastened into the room with strangely smug grins and polite bows.

  “Rose is putting the last sprigs of holly in the hallway,” Richard said with gleeful smile.

  At that moment, a small black cat with wide, innocent golden eyes appeared at Ian’s feet. He glanced down at Merry who blinked once and sat neatly beside him. “Remember me, do you?” He reached down to scratch behind her ears. She rubbed her face sinuously against his hand. “I hope you are not imagining you can use me as your slave again.” She sprang up and landed against his chest. He automatically caught her, whereupon she settled onto his crooked forearm, using one paw to pat his jaw.

  The boys stood and stared at him. Mrs. Darnell said, “That’s the first time I have seen that miserable cat voluntarily reach out to a human being.” She sounded stunned.

  Rose arrived, wearing a floating gown in a pale shade of pink. “I see Sir Ian is charming all the females again,” she said, her lustrous blue gaze momentarily resting on his face.

  “One at least.” He glanced at Merry.

  “I will have harsh words to say to her later,” Rose said as curtsied to him. With her tantalizing eyelashes lowered, he couldn’t read her expression.

  When Andrew Darnell arrived, the conversation became general. Ian glanced at Rose a few times but her attention appeared elsewhere. Finally, the butler announced that dinner would be served in the main dining room. He saw the hint of a smile on Rose’s petal soft lips, since nothing could be less likely than the evening meal being served elsewhere. Having no other choice, he put the cat on a chair, and offered his arm to Rose.

  Her eyes met his. His chest emptied as fast as his mind. She seemed about to speak, but blinked instead and settled her fingers lightly on his sleeve. Her parents, chatting cozily, led the way into the hall, followed by Ian and the woman he loved, and ranked by the boys. In front, the adult Darnells suddenly stopped, forcing Ian and Rose to pause behind. The boys reared up, flanking Ian’s retreat.

  “The kissing bough,” young master Robert said, his smile smug, his forefinger pointing upward.

  Ian glanced where he pointed, and then at Rose who frowned at Robert. The boys began to jostle. Ian stood trapped in a circle of Darnells beneath the kissing bough. Although the tinge of pink of Rose’s cheek clearly indicated she didn’t want Ian’s attentions, the whole Darnell family stood staring expectantly. He tried a casual smile and a shrug, but no one moved. With a rueful tilt of his eyebrows, he said to beautiful Rose, “May I have the honor of being kissed?”

  Her splendid eyelashes fluttered. She glanced quickly at his face and away. “You may have the honor of being the kisser. If you please.”

  His audience stilled. His heart took up the rhythm of a marching drum while he bent his head and let his lips touch Rose’s. Although he meant to step back immediately, she clutched his lapels, gazing deeply into his eyes. The boys and their parents left like wraiths in the night.

  Deep within Ian’s chest a spark of hope began to kindle. Rose’s mouth softened and her enormous, pure blue eyes, asked an unspoken question. Astonished to have been given this opportunity, he moved his hands to the jut of her hips, resting his thumbs on the ridge, moving her into his body, while she slid her fingers to his collar. His lips met hers again with desperate need, which forced his breathing to speed up, and lasted until he realized that any more of this and his body would begin to embarrass him.

  Although unwillingly, he managed to lift his mouth and rest his cheek against hers, while he gained control of his thoughts. “If you weren’t before, you are now utterly compromised,” he said in a breathy voice that stirred the tendrils of her hair.

  Her fingers toyed with the buttons on his jacket, and she concentrated on his cravat. “A kiss is only a kiss, and everyone knows how many attentions I have suffered from my suitors.” She didn’t lift her gaze. “But you are not a suitor, are you? You never have been. Regardless, Ian.” She took a long breath, her lashes resting on her cheeks. She paused for so long that his chest grew tight. “I love you. I always have.”

  For a moment he couldn’t credit what he heard. “Always have?” were the only words he could utter.

  She nodded, raising her gaze, her smile wobbling. “Since the day I met you. But please don’t think you have to marry me because you have kissed me in front of my parents. It’s Christmas. Many kisses will be offered during the next few weeks.”

  “I certainly hope so.” He stared straight into her eyes, drawing her right into his body. When she had circled her arms around his neck, and lifted her face, he whispered, “You are in my mind day and night, and you are the cause of every letter I haven’t written to my colleagues who want my opinion, and the reason why my servants are creeping around the house. Say you will marry me ... and I will be able to kiss you for the rest of our lives.”

  “And finish your correspondence ... if I say yes, and you may be certain I will, I want much more than kisses,” she said in a deadly voice.

  He widened his smile. “You can have everything you want after we are married.”

  She shook her head, as if sadly disappointed in him. After taking a considering breath, she said, “In that case, we should marry today, because I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  He laughed. The wretch was impossibly forward. Perfect, in fact, for him, her contrast. “Not without a special license, my dearest tormentor. But with your parent’s permission to marry you, I shall travel back to town and obtain one.”

  She beamed. Tucking her hand under his arm, she turned him in the direction of the dining room. “I think my parents have already shown their approval. The amazing part was my brothers’ cooperation. I wonder which of them set up this choreographed situation?”

  “My guess would be your mother. She appears to have the skills of a brevet sergeant.”

  Clearly agreeing with him, Rose said, “I think I should like to be married on Christmas day. Our families are already here and you will have time to leave and return.”

  “In that case, I shall have to ask your parents for your hand before we eat, because the sooner we can legally share a bed, the better.”

  Rose gave him a glance of incredulity. “Why on earth else do you think I want to marry you? For your sparkling conversation?”

  “This particular conversation is heading in dangerous territory. I like to think that my utterances are riveting.”

  She laughed. Tucking her hand under his arm, she leaned her face on the tip of shoulder. “Why do you think I fell in love with you?”

  “Is this a serious question?”

  “That’s exactly why. You understand me. You don’t ask me if I am joking because you already know the answer. You assume I am intelligent enough to banter with. Why did you fall in love with me?”

  “Becau
se you have a heart. Who else would pick up a stray and grumpy cat and take the time to make her happy?”

  “What if I did that to make you think I had a heart?”

  “You didn’t, but I have loved you since the day we met.” With that, he escorted her into the dining room, realizing his life would never be the same.

  While Rose’s trunks were unpacked and the bed warmed, Ian entertained his new wife with a glass of champagne in the capacious sitting room of his large country house, hoping to relax her for the night ahead.

  Although he had expected his and Rose’s families to be at the Christmas wedding ceremony, he hadn’t expected her friends, too. The three of them, Della, Winsome, and Hebe came muffled to the eyebrows in furs and they tossed winter-blooming flowers in the path of the bride when he and she left the church.

  Apparently, his new mother-in-law had decided she could put the out-of-town wedding guests up for a night or two and provide a reception combined with a Christmas meal for all. He enjoyed his intimate wedding, mainly because he disliked fuss. Not planning on taking a wedding trip, he had left his sister-in-law to ready his master suite for the new mistress of his house. Erica and Edward, et al, left straight after the wedding, giving the newlyweds time alone in lieu of a honeymoon.

  Ian sat through the interminable Christmas meal with both the extended families, and then the wedding toasts, until finally his coach was brought around, decorated with holly. The trip home took all of fifteen minutes.

  After he had introduced Rose to the upper servants, and the housekeeper had taken her on tour through the house, she finally sat beside him in front of the fire with Merry in her lap. She leaned back and smiled at him. “You don’t mind that I’m not a virgin?”

  He spread his hands. “I wouldn’t, no, but you are.”