Wagering on Christmas

by Sandra Sookoo

  “It often does,” he responded in a low whisper of his own and he squeezed her shoulder. “Perhaps it is because we—the survivors—need to learn how to be stronger.”

  She pleated his handkerchief, her gaze on the tips of her slippers that peeked out from beneath the hem of her gown. “He talked about you always, but at Christmastide most of all.”

  “Why?”

  “This time of year was when he felt closest to you. Those memories of us are connected, for we were never apart in those days.” Finally, she raised her gaze to his once more. Shock and regret warred for dominance in his eyes. “Jacob loved you like a brother, Colin. He treasured the pocket watch you gave him that Christmas. Used it so much we replaced the chain.”

  “Oh, I’d forgotten that watch,” he murmured. “I cannot believe he didn’t pawn it after...”

  “Never. He treasured it.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “Well, it doesn’t matter now.” He sighed and the warmth of his breath skated over her cheek. “Losing both him and you at the same time nearly ended me. But after several years, after I was married myself, I understood it was probably for the best.”

  “He forgave you for the silence, for the anger.” Her tears dry, she smiled and it was a stronger affair now. “Hoped that eventually you’d find it in your heart to forgive him too, that you two could resume your friendship.”

  “I’d lost touch with him, threw his letters into a box.” He snorted, but there was no anger in his expression. “The same box where all of my father’s letters went. I didn’t want that connection to my past—any connection. I tried to forget.”

  “Perhaps we remember for a reason,” she added, her voice barely there. Some of the ache in her chest faded as she talked to this man who’d once known her husband too. “Jacob was adamant that you’d come around, but time ran out for him.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He reached for hand with his free one and squeezed her fingers despite the handkerchief. “When you told me that first day of the trip that he’d died, I didn’t know what to do, because in that moment, I knew there was no chance to forgive, to make it right between him and I.”

  A piece of her heart went into his keeping. “Keep changing, Colin, and remember Jacob at Christmas. He’ll know, and so will you.” A hiccupping laugh escaped her, and once more her eyes filled with tears, but not necessarily for her lost husband. “I’m lonely, and I think that’s the bulk of why I cannot fully enjoy Christmastide anymore. It is very much a holiday for romance, and I haven’t quite figured out how to celebrate it without that.”

  “How well I understand that sentiment.” The rumble of his voice comforted her like nothing else could.

  How very... odd.

  “With the loss of Jacob’s townhouse, I feel as if I’ve failed his memory, somehow.” She sniffed but refused to give into more tears. “I only hope the children will understand.”

  “I’m sure they will. Young people are resilient, and any children of yours will be stubborn, besides.” He patted her shoulder. “Season of miracles, remember.”

  They sat in comfortable silence for long moments while the dying fire snapped and crackled and the soft drone of rain beat against the window glass once more. Her eyelids drooped. Lucy rested her head on his shoulder. His body against hers, his arm around her felt all too right, and it set her pulse racing with a newfound excitement. The small kernel of hope she perpetually carried in her chest bloomed into something she wasn’t sure she wanted, for he hadn’t shown an interest in such a thing.

  From somewhere deep in the recesses of the inn, the chime of a long-case clock denoted the midnight hour.

  Lucy stirred. “I should go up.” She struggled to her feet.

  “Agreed.” Colin rose, standing all too close to her, the heat of his body seeping into hers. “We have one more day of travel ahead.”

  “Well, one and some, and it’s raining again.” But she smiled at him. “Thank you for listening to me. I feel cleansed somehow.”

  “Just as I felt after talking with you yesterday.” He tucked a stray curl behind her ear, his brief touch burning across her cheek. His eyes reflected genuine sorrow and a seriousness she’d not seen before. “I feel as if I know Jacob better, as if he has indeed forgiven me, though I miss him. I should have sought him out earlier, been a man and—”

  “Oh, hush.” Then Lucy lost her mind. She stood on tiptoe and stemmed his words by pressing her lips to his. Had she wanted the kiss on some level since their dance? Yes, merely to assuage her curiosity, and she wasn’t disappointed. His lips were every bit as manly and interesting as the rest of him. She blinked, pulling slightly away with heated cheeks. “I shouldn’t have...”

  Colin merely grinned. He cupped her cheek and tugged her closer to him with a hand at her waist and then he kissed her this time, moving over her mouth, exploring, seeking, asking... remembering.

  As tingles played her spine and danced low in her belly, a certain amount of panic set in, throwing cold water as it were over the response she desperately wanted to give. They couldn’t do this; the kisses were borne out of memories for a different time. Weren’t they?

  Quickly, she wrenched from his embrace, the heat of his mouth lingering on hers. “Goodnight,” she uttered on the heels of a squeak, and then she fled the room, belatedly remembering to grab her reticule and her handiwork on the way out.

  Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

  It was a long time after she’d settled beneath the bedclothes before she drifted into sleep or thoughts of Colin stopped pestering her.

  Chapter Twelve

  December 24, 1821

  All day long, as the rain changed to snow flurries, went back to rain and then settled into snow from thick clouds that didn’t look to clear anytime soon, Colin thought about that impromptu kiss Lucy had given him.

  Why had she done it? No amount of staring out the window provided him the answer he sought. And how could he cajole a repeat performance? For her satiny lips had cradled his as perfectly as they had all those years ago, but now the heat they’d oh so briefly exchanged was more tantalizing than those innocent kisses of yesteryear.

  When he glanced at her, she sat with embroidery in her lap, her fingers still, her attention riveted to her window, but a small smile curved those highly kissable lips. What did she think about? It was maddening to wish to know. And still he couldn’t tear his attention away from her mouth. That kiss they’d shared hadn’t been nearly enough. He’d barely gotten acquainted with her last night, and he craved the taste of her, wished to see what experience had taught her, and if she’d be of a mind for a dalliance before parting...

  Damn it all to hell. Colin shifted on his bench as thoughts of her tightened his length. Lucy wasn’t that sort of woman. No one night tupping for her, and rightly so. She was the marrying type, didn’t deserve such treatment, and he didn’t want to do the leg-shackling bit again, for that meant his heart would need be engaged.

  This development vastly complicated the remainder of the trip, and they were but a day out from Derbyshire. On the one hand rested a possible renewal of a relationship with this elusive woman who’d haunted him during their years apart, but on the other hand waited the spoils of his father’s wager. There simply wasn’t more time to consider each. What to do?

  Then he gave himself a mental shake. Get hold of yourself, man. Outside of that kiss, brought on by an excess of emotion and a remembrance of the past, Lucy hasn’t shown an interest in you, romantic or otherwise. Go for the easy win and forget the rest.

  If only life were that easy. Sometimes, a man needed the challenge.

  They were obliged to stop at a posting inn for lunch and for the driver to talk with other travelers and assess the road situation, for the snow came down at a good clip now. The precipitation hadn’t yet covered the barren fields, but it would soon, and though the roads would freeze, the precipitation would render travel hazardous.

  Once in yet another private di
ning room, the ladies of his party removed their outer wear and he gaped in surprise. Lucy didn’t wear the light blue day dress she had the last few days. Now, draped in a gown of ivory velvet trimmed with a gold satin sash and an outer skirt of sheer white tulle embroidered with tiny golden flowers, she was magnificent. Colin raked his gaze up and down her figure, pausing to admire the swell of her pale breasts over a neckline considerably lower than the blue dress.

  He forgot how to breathe. Hell, he forgot his own name. He opened and closed his mouth, but no sound emerged.

  When she glanced at him, she smiled, and her eyes twinkled. “Is there something you’d like to say, Colin?” She looked at Ellen, who shrugged, but regarded him with speculation.

  “Uh...” He cleared his throat but his thoughts were still murky.

  “Grant me patience.” Ellen muttered and followed it up with a huff. “Shall I order tea or some luncheon, Father?” she asked in a voice saturated with annoyance. “From the snatches of conversation I overheard on the way in, the cook has made special Christmas meat pies for the midday meal.”

  “Please. And ask to have a fire lit.” The words felt ripped from his throat as if he had no idea how to communicate verbally, not since beholding Lucy in such an outfit. Did she have an assignation she’d failed to inform him of? Why the devil did she have to look so stunning? When his daughter, who wore her traveling dress instead of a fancy one, exited the room, he heaved a sigh and once more peered at Lucy. “You are beautiful. What prompted... this?” He waved a hand to encompass her person.

  “It’s Christmas Eve.” She shrugged as if that explained everything. At his frown, she laughed and rolled her eyes. “Ellen suggested that since I had this gown with me, I should wear it today, in an effort to infuse our last full travel day with a festive air.”

  “I heartily agree with that.” Each time she moved, the golden embroidery and tiny crystal beadwork around the bodice winked in the candlelight. “In any event, I’m glad your cloak isn’t hiding your dress. It certainly cheers me.”

  God, could I be any more of a nodcock? I sound like a green schoolboy.

  This was Lucy, who he’d known for years... except, it wasn’t. She was different in all the ways that mattered, and he desperately wanted to know why.

  Her widening smile warmed his insides. Too much more of that and he’d be lost.

  Colin was saved another response by Ellen pelting back into the dining room. Her face was wreathed in happiness and joy that surely had nothing to do with the mundane task of ordering food and a fire. “What has happened?” So help him, if she’d flirted with another footman—or any young man—he’d wring the unfortunate’s neck and ring a peal over her head. She was much too young for all of that, and he most certainly wouldn’t allow it until her Come Out, or even ever.

  “Oh, Papa, it’s the best news,” she enthused as she ran lightly over the worn hardwood to stand in front of him. “While ordering luncheon, I happened upon one of my school chums—Emily Harrison. She’s in a few of my classes, and we chatted a bit. Can you believe she and her family are heading to Derbyshire for Christmastide as well? I don’t know her intimately, but how wonderful her people are from the same place ours are.”

  “It’s not outside the realm of possibility since many families travel during this week,” he said dryly with an amused glance at Lucy. Which he shouldn’t have done, for one look at that gown and the curves it clung to had tiny fires licking through his blood. “What bearing does meeting your friend have on our present circumstances?”

  “I’d like to ride with them the rest of the way. Please, Papa?” Ellen clasped her hands together and peered at him with the right amount of pleading in her eyes. “I haven’t asked you for much recently, but I’d like this ever so much.”

  “But earlier in our trip, you said you wished to spend time with me,” he countered with a grin.

  She rolled her eyes. “We have nearly two weeks to do that, and we’ve made enormous strides at repairing our relationship, thanks to Lucy.” Ellen clutched onto his arm. “Please let me go. Please.” She went as far as to hop in her excitement.

  Yes, thanks to Lucy. Again, he peered at her. She’d been the thread that mended their torn lives. The woman is nothing short of magic. Finally, he waved a hand and focused his attention on his daughter. “Go. It’s all right, but make sure Miss Harrison’s family drops you at Lancaster Hall as soon as possible. I’ve promised your great-grandmother we’d all be together for Christmas breakfast. And mind you retrieve your luggage from the carriage.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Ellen leaned upon her tiptoes and placed a noisy kiss to his cheek. “I love you.” Then she launched herself into Lucy’s arms and kissed her as well. “You look smashing, Lucy. I knew you would. See you tomorrow.” And then, she dashed from the room and the echo of her heels on the hardwood rang in the sudden silence.

  Dear Lord, I’m alone with Lucy.

  Colin looked at her, who’d narrowed her eyes. “What?”

  “You spoil her. At times, it’s quite all right to deny her requests. She will live just fine, and be all the stronger for it.”

  He shrugged. “I know.” Before he could say more, the innkeeper’s wife hustled into the room with a lad of about twelve. While the boy darted to the fireplace and quickly had a nice blaze, the woman set down a large, silver tray upon the table and began to set out quite an impressive tea spread, complete with sandwiches, the lauded meat pies, which were all golden pastry and steaming hot, as well as four types of sweets. When they were both finished, Colin smiled. “Thank you.” As they left, the woman closed the door behind her.

  The finality of that act shivered through his soul. What the bloody hell do I do now? Before, when he’d known Lucy, they’d both been very young with only untried love between them. Now they were adults, they had been through marriages, suffered loss, gained experience. They were different, and yet here they were, with the same old tension simmering between them that had only sharpened into deep desire.

  His hands were damp inside his gloves, and quickly he removed them as well as his greatcoat. Colin threw the garments along with his beaver felt top hat onto one of the wingback leather chairs near the fireplace. He didn’t much care if everything landed on the furniture or not. “Uh, shall we sit and do justice to this lovely tea?” How was a man supposed to do something as pedestrian as eating while such a vision of beauty occupied the same room?

  “I’d like that.” As she moved past him, the fragrance of daises teased his nose, and he once more gawked at her as if he’d never seen her before. “What is it about traveling that makes a person famished?”

  “I’m sure I couldn’t say.” The last thing on his mind was eating, but he couldn’t very well stand there like a bacon-brained idiot and stare at her, so he more or less collapsed into a chair to her right as she poured out two cups of tea. “It will feel strange not completing the journey with Ellen.” Yes, he’d not spent much time with his daughter in recent years, but now that she was gone, he missed her presence, her ready smile, her plain way of speaking, her eyes that sparkled with amusement when she thought he hadn’t noticed.

  “Such is the way with children,” Lucy said as she pressed a teacup into his hand. The slight brush of her fingers against his sent jolts of awareness up his spine. “They drive a body clean crazy and then suddenly, they’ve grown and begin to live their own lives. We must cherish them when we have the chance.”

  “I don’t mind telling you I wish I could keep Ellen a child for a little while longer.” Colin sipped at his tea, grateful for the mindlessness of such a repast. “Since I rather mucked things up with her, I want more time now.” How unexpected and ... lovely it was to talk to another person about the trials and tribulations of parenting.

  “I know how you feel.” Lucy’s gaze went limpid. Perhaps she, too, struggled with the same thing. “Simon will be sixteen next year. He’s very much the young man and will soon be off to university...” A sob choked he
r and she quickly set down her tea cup. “Or rather I hope he will, if the remainder of the funding I set aside for him is enough.”

  Panic chilled his insides. He didn’t want her to cry, so he rushed to change the subject. “Don’t think about that now. It will ruin Christmas.”

  “You’re right.” Lucy spent the next few minutes nibbling at various items.

  Colin attempted to do the same, but his appetite had vanished. How long had it been since he couldn’t eat due to a woman? He stifled a snort. That was a complicated question, for the past handful of years, he’d taken refuge in the brandy bottle to forget the very woman who sat next to him. Life was certainly interesting.

  She caught his eye, and his stomach bottomed out. “Have you a gift for Ellen yet?”

  Distracted by the tiniest bit of raspberry jam at the corner of her mouth, it took a few moments before his brain recognized she’d asked a question. “I’ve bought a gown she wanted from France. Supposed to be in the latest style. Plus, all the trimmings.” He sighed when Lucy licked at the spot, removing temptation. “I should have waited to buy her such things until after her Come Out, but...” What was there to say?

  Lucy nodded. “You spoil her.”

  “I’m trying to make up for failing her,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “She only wants your company, Colin. And your attention. Those things would mean more to her than anything you can buy.” Something glimmered in the deep depths of those ice-blue eyes and it brought a few silver flecks to the surface of those irises.

  And he wanted to chase that elusive, unnamed emotion for nothing else but to discover if it was the same thing budding within him. It was as if with their intimate talks over the last few days, the past had cleared between them, and now a clean road beckoned before him. He leaned slightly forward. “Is that what you feel too? What you want for your life?” The question was asked in a barely-there whisper, but rosy color infused her cheeks. The dark arc of her lashes lay against those cheeks as she kept her gaze on her plate. “Lucy?” He dared much by putting a finger beneath her chin and lifting her head until their gazes met.