His Christmas Angel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 8) (10 page)

Ann felt as if she was caught in a trap. She had to reply, so she meekly said, “Yes.” She had always loved the Cotswolds, and spending Christmas there was certainly a dream come true.

“You shan’t be far from where we reside in Wiltshire, so do feel free to come and pay us a visit. Christmas in the Country is ever so much fun. It is so lovely, especially if we are granted some nice big snowflakes falling from the sky on Christmas Day,” Lady Knightwick said, sighing deliciously. “I had bandied about the idea of staying here in Town, but Freddie isn’t too keen on it. He isn’t very fond of Town life, are you, dear? His father is still attempting to convince us to away to Scotland for Christmastide. He thought he would spend the Season here in Town, but he misses Scotland. He is back at his townhouse, as we speak, no doubt concocting another way to convince us to return to the Highlands with him. He says that we haven’t experienced Christmas until we spend it in the Highlands. I do not think I could abide the cold. They have rather harsh winters—or so I am told.”

“He will go where we go, Julia,” Lord Knightwick said.

“Indeed,” Lady Knightwick said, her merry blue eyes dimming for a moment, before they danced once more. “I wonder…maybe we need to play the part of matchmaker for His Grace. It shouldn’t be too hard to find an eligible young lady—or older lady here in Town.”

“Julia, dear,” Marietta said. “Have you introduced him to Lady Christopher?”

Lady Christopher sat up straighter in her seat when her name was mentioned. Francesca muttered something that sounded indelicate under her breath. “Marietta, dear, I do not believe that Lady Christopher is in the market for a new husband. Some women are not eager to rush to the altar again.”

“Oh, indeed, not. My Christopher was enough for me,” she said softly, with her eyes fixed on her soup. “I do not think there is another man out there that is his equal.”

“I can agree with you on that,” Gideon said, looking fondly at his stepmother. “My father was in a class of his own.”

“There, you see, Marietta. When one is married to a man as saintly as Christopher was—well, she would be hard pressed to find someone that could even come into the realm of being so fine,” Francesca said triumphantly. “I do not see why with all of the ladies in London, we should offer up Lady Christopher for the taking. No. If you are that intent upon matching him up with someone, Lady Knightwick, you come and call upon me tomorrow, and I shall give you a few suggestions. I know just which of the widows in our set are looking to marry again.”

“I don’t think my father wants someone quite as old you…” Lord Knightwick said, his face blooming with redness, he swallowed thickly. His eyes filled with desperation. He looked like he wanted to crawl his hulking form under the table, and stay there for the rest of the day.

“Oh, bloody hell, he just sunk his own ship. Grandmamma is going to crucify him,” Clarence muttered beneath his breath.

“Did I say that out loud?” Lord Knightwick swallowed thickly, and looked back down at his soup in the same way that Lady Christopher kept her gaze focused on the white substance.

“Yes, you did, dearest,” Lady Knightwick said. “You have a terrible habit of acting thus. Your mouth sometimes has a mind of its own, it can be a blessing and a curse.”

“Well, if it has a mind of its own, it’s bloody well daft,” Lord Knightwick muttered. “I do apologize, Your Grace. I have erred, and I am quite sorry for it.”

Ann tried not to laugh. Lord and Lady Knightwick were quite entertaining. Lords Spaulding and Prescott were also fighting back a laugh.

“Well, lad, don’t fret. I like your candor, I always have. From the first time we met, I liked you. You are right. I am a bit stricken in years, and as I see it, your father is probably a fair bit younger than me. I am not ashamed of my years, mind, I see them as a badge of honour. They show that I have weathered many a storm, and lived to fight another day.”

“Quite right, Mama,” Valentine said.

“Indeed, Madam,” Lord Knightwick said. “With the foolery that exists in my family, I will be fortunate to live as long as you. I hope I shall.”

“Ah, yes. The curse of the Hamilton Harlequins. I think you have already lived through enough trials and tribulations to safely say that you shall not fall victim to that particular family malediction. Besides, you have all of your rather unfortunate accidents by way of your mouth, so you are quite safe, sir.”

Clarence almost choked on his soup. He gathered his senses, and sighed. “Ah, Grandmamma, as ever, you wield the spoken word like a sharp rapier.”

Francesca smiled at him, and lifted her spoon to her mouth. Once she had swallowed, she wiped at her mouth daintily, and then spoke again, “You should call upon me tomorrow, Lord Knightwick, and bring your father along. You can accompany Lady Christopher and me to the Opera.”

“Yes, Madam. That is a fitting punishment for my slip of the tongue,” Lord Knightwick smiled broadly at her, and Francesca returned his smile.

Ann couldn’t help but smile herself. If this was her family, they would have been at each other’s throats, bickering loudly, not caring if they had guests, and then, afterward, they would all be regaled with their father’s or brother’s famous silent treatment until someone threw themselves on their sword, and apologized, even if they were not the one to blame.

“I have had time to contemplate this, Clarence, and Lady Christopher and I might just visit you and Ann at Evesham Hall,” Francesca said.

Clarence made a weird gurgling noise in the back of his throat. “I…uh, that would be lovely, Grandmamma.” Ann had to admire his ability to recover so quickly. She wasn’t that quick thinking.

“And here I was thinking you would visit us at Kenilworth Park, Grandmamma,” Ginny lamented. “I do believe we should host a ball on Christmas Eve, don’t you, dear?” she asked, turning her attention to Gideon.

“Whatever you like, Ginny,” he said. “You know I do not interfere with anything like that.”

“Yes, you are a perfect husband,” Ginny said lovingly, “It might be rather short notice for those of our friends here in Town, so I daresay I shall keep the invites restricted to family, and those who are local. That should give us a different set of pace, and allow some of the locals who rarely visit Town to have a grand old time.”

“My mother and I usually hold a Ball on Christmas Eve,” Lady Knightwick said, “But if you are up for the company, it might be diverting to have it at a different venue this year. Mama might be a bit vexed. I was surprised when she declined to accompany us to Town.”

“She is happy with your brother at Castleton Court,” Mr. Lovett said.

“Oh, indeed. I do think she will be disappointed after she hears what fun we had here in Town. She always laments about it after the fact. She does like to shop, and that is usually what she misses the most.”

“Perhaps, I should entreat Beatrice to attend Ginny’s Christmas Eve Ball,” Mr. Lovett said. “She does want to see Richard married off, and there might be an eligible young miss at Ginny’s soiree that might be suitable.”

“Oh, you never know. Our vicar has a few young daughters that might catch Richard’s eye,” Ginny observed.

Lady Knightwick giggled. “Oh, he shall be absolutely thrilled, Ginny. Now that I am married, Mama has been able to lavish Richard with attention—and she has had all of the time in the world to think of lovely young ladies he could court.”

“Oh, aye, she has too much time on her hands,” Mr. Lovett bemoaned. “Richard has been joining me on my daily constitutionals, and every time I go fishing, he is there, rod in hand, and ready to spend some time with me. I think he’s putting more effort in staying away from his mother than he would if he found a woman to become his next countess. He wanted to come to London to attend to my business interests but I told him that he couldn’t possibly leave Beatrice behind.”

“How did he take that, Uncle Edward?” Lady Knightwick asked.

“Not too well, I am afraid. He looked quite desperate. I think that when I decide to return to Castleton, he shall decide to away to Town.”

“I sympathize a little with his plight,” Lady Knightwick said.

“Why should you?” Lord Knightwick grunted. “He never sympathized with your plight. I rather think he thought it grand that Lady Tisbury kept herself occupied with your affairs, it kept her nose out of his.”

“He has had plenty of opportunities to find a possible bride. He just won’t act upon his feelings. He might have had Ruby if he had been a little more attentive.”

Ann could barely follow the conversation. She wasn’t aware of who Ruby was, and she barely knew of Lady Knightwick’s brother, Lord Tisbury.

As if Clarence guessed her thoughts, he said, “The Ruby Lady Knightwick refers to, is the former Miss Massey. She has recently wed The Duke of Camblesforth.”

“Aye, little Ruby is now a Duchess,” Mrs. Lovett said proudly. “I can scarcely believe it. My Papa is over the moon. He hasn’t returned from Cornwall yet, although I do believe he shall come back in time for Christmas, and Ruby’s mother is champing at the bit to visit them out there. Alas, I do not think she is very welcome. The poor dear caused her own grief with her daughter. If only she hadn’t been so hard on Ruby.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call Honoria a poor dear, darling,” Mr. Lovett said. “She can be quite bristly at times.”

“That is one way of expressing it, Uncle Edward,” Lady Knightwick said, smiling broadly. “I wouldn’t be as kind as you if I picked a word to describe Mrs. Massey.”

“Ruby desired a small intimate wedding and she was granted it,” Mr. Lovett said. “No one let Honoria know Ruby was getting married until she was the Duchess, and Honoria couldn’t cause any mischief.”

“Ah, yes. Mrs. Massey. The former Miss Honoria Somersby…the girl who flaunted the wealth that was never hers,” Francesca said grimly. “The woman is rather like a plague. You suffer through her presence, hope you don’t die from her constant prattling and once it is all over and she’s gone, you’re bloody thankful to have survived it all, relatively none the worse for wear.”

Everyone chuckled politely, except for Lord Spaulding and Lord Knightwick who had descended into a fit of laughter. Their laughter echoed around them.

Ann felt a little swell of panic. If the formidable Dowager Duchess was bemoaning having to deal with Mrs. Massey, she must be a real dragon, and she hoped that she would never run across her.

“Here we are talking endlessly about people that poor Lady Evesham has never met,” Lady Knightwick said. “She probably thinks we are all a little addled.”

“Not at all,” Ann confessed. “I find it distracts me from everything going on in my life right now.”

The Duke of Daventry chuckled. “Ann, you have married into a family that shall never bore you. The ladies run around fighting duels, and getting into all sorts of trouble.”

“Julia tried to fence with a gypsy once,” Lord Knightwick said, having recovered himself, though he still wore an ear to ear grin. Julia gasped, and punched him lightly on the arm.

“And my husband likes to carry an axe around that he calls Mrs. Robinson,” she said succinctly, causing Freddie to choke on his sip of wine. He spluttered for a bit and then regained control.

“The Lovett and Deville women have a penchant for mischief and a nose for trouble,” Lord Cary announced.

“It is true, we are like magnets for it. No matter how hard we try to keep to ourselves, and try to avoid danger—it seems to find us,” Lady Cary said. “It is fortunate that we are rather resourceful, and have such fierce and loyal Angels to guard us.”

“I know,” Lady Knightwick agreed. “I did my utmost best to avoid it and yet—trouble still came knocking on my door.”

“It doesn’t seem to follow the Deville women quite as much as it pursues the Lovett women,” Lord Everley said, “So I suppose the Lovett blood has been diluted a bit.”

“No, the Deville women run toward the danger…don’t they, Val?” Daventry said.

“Only if they think they need to help someone they love. We are loyal to a fault like that.”

“If trouble ever befell me whilst I was with my sisters, I would see the back of them as they ran away,” Ann mused softly.

“I knew there was a reason I never liked any of your sisters,” Ginny said, winking at her. “Have you heard from your mother at all, Ann?”

“Her Grace gave me a message from her.”

“Yes, I saw her in Hyde Park yesterday,” Marietta admitted. “She looked extremely vexed to be kept away from you on your day, Ann. I think…I think she was with you in spirit.”

“What’s this?” Valentine said. “Why are we using such formality with each other?”

“If you would recall, Valentine, Son, Marietta used my title as a young bride. She didn’t start calling me Mother Francesca until little Matilda came along.”

“Uh, yes. I…” Valentine tugged at his cravat the way that Clarence did when he was nervous. “Now, I remember. Thank you, Mama.”

They had moved past the soup to the fish course. Ann couldn’t eat anything else. She was far too nervous. Her stomach wouldn’t stop flip flopping. And yet the food looked so delicious.

  Would this day never end?

Ann managed to survive the rest of the elaborate meal, and when Clarence suggested they all retire to the Ballroom to have some merriment and wedding cake, her nervousness almost conquered her. She couldn’t imagine how she would continue to drink, dance and be merry. She felt filled to the brim with food, and ready to explode! That was the secret to her mother’s soirées. She had always advised Ann to eat a light repast before anything that would require exercise to not feel weighted down. She wished she had followed her mother’s advice instead of falling prey to the Cook’s tasty concoctions. Her dishes were far superior to the food that the Hardwicke family cook made.

They walked into the Ballroom, and she inhaled her breath. The servants, those not attending to them during their dinner must have been busy little bees. Every candle on the beautiful chandeliers had been lit. It lacked any greenery, as decorations weren’t usually put up until Christmas Eve, but the flowers that had decorated the majestic room for the wedding ceremony remained, along with several kissing boughs, trimmed with mistletoe hanging from various areas in the ballroom. She wondered if Clarence worried about inviting bad luck into the house because he had put mistletoe up before Christmas Eve.

There would be a lot of unsuspecting maidens being kissed tonight—and a few suspecting ones would probably ‘find’ themselves under the mistletoe to steal a kiss, hopefully from the fellow they had their heart set on. They hung far too high up for anyone to pluck the berries, thus ending the kissing game.

It felt almost magical, as if she had wondered into a beautiful fairyland. The candlelight from the magnificent crystal chandeliers haloed the expansive room in a romantic light. This Ballroom was bigger than the Ballroom back at Broadway House, and she hadn’t had much time to study it before she had married Clarence, and during the ceremony, she hadn’t been able to think of anything else, but Clarence. The Ballroom was so large, they had set up a refreshment table at the far end of it, and on the table was their wedding cake.

She didn’t relish taking a taste of cake. She didn’t care much for marzipan icing, and the cake was beautifully decorated with it.

“Oh, that is a lovely cake,” Lord Cary said, with Lady Cary on his arm. “You two will have to keep Lady Cary from the icing. She has a supreme fondness for it. Don’t you, dear?” he asked, with a twinkle in his eyes.

Lady Cary smiled. “I confess, it is my one weakness.”

“One of your weaknesses,” Lord Cary pointed out. “I like to think I also fall into that category.”

She sighed. “Yes, Lewis, you do,” she admitted.

Ann felt a thrill at the love that radiated between them. She wished she could say that she felt that way about Clarence. She did feel tenderly toward him, she just couldn’t say definitively that she loved him. She wasn’t even certain if she knew what that kind of love felt like.

Clarence and she walked over to the cake, and a servant handed her a knife. Sighing, she cut the cake. She placed two small pieces on plates, and then, cut a few more pieces for Clarence’s family. Once she walked away, a footman stepped forward and took over where she left off, cutting pieces of cake for those who wanted it. It wouldn’t last long, the cake wasn’t that large, and she daintily tasted a piece of it. She tried not to scrunch up her nose. She had never been particularly fond of plum cake. Clarence, on the other hand, liked it with gusto. Other footmen came into the Ballroom holding trays of champagne. They looked as if they were getting ready to receive quite a few guests. What had Clarence done? A stab of fear plunged through her. She realized she held her breath, when she finally let it out, and felt relief.

“I have a surprise for you, Ann. I have invited a few guests to share in our joy.”

“A few?” she asked, stuttering over the two words.

“Aye. Only a small gathering. You needn’t worry. It will be jolly good fun, Ann, darling.”

His voice calling her darling gave her a delightful little thrill. She shook her head as her sensibility reared its sometimes ugly head.

“I…I hoped for an early night, Clarence.”

“Oh, indeed?” he asked, pulling her over so they stood in a quiet corner. “I assure you, Ann, we shall have plenty of time to enjoy each other later on. The guests won’t stay all night.”

She sighed. “That wasn’t what I meant...oh, never mind, Clarence.”

She was rendered speechless, as other guests started to show up. It would seem as if Clarence had taken a little too much upon himself. It looked as if he had invited half of the ton, it couldn’t be considered a small affair anymore. His butler started to announce the guests.

This was a bloody Wedding Ball!

She didn’t know whether to be mad or frightened. What if someone that knew her father—or worse, Sir Wilfrid showed up?

Clarence held her hand firmly, and even if she had wanted to, she wouldn’t have been able to flee the ballroom. Her world felt as if it was shrinking. It was closing in on her.

Clarence had arranged them into a receiving line, and she realized that a little too late, as guests started to come up to them to give them their congratulations and well wishes. She felt lightheaded. She felt as if she was going to be sick.

She had asked for this. She had come to Clarence for his help. By doing so, she had forgotten his character. She had forgotten his penchant for fun. He wasn’t reserved by any means, and from what she could see, he was flaunting his wealth, and he was flaunting the fact that he had finally won her hand. It should have touched her, and yet, the dramatic affect he had hoped for, fell flat on her.

They were two very different people, and she wasn’t sure if this marriage of theirs could work.

If she’d had any other choice…

*****

Clarence looked down at Ann. She looked utterly vexed. She looked as if she were cross—and the person she had to be cross with—was him.

He didn’t know what to do. What had made her so furious with him? Was she displeased with this ball? He couldn’t undo it now it was too far gone, and yet, Ginny’s words came back to haunt him. She had asked him if he had consulted Ann, and he had said like a bloody fool that he didn’t have to consult her—he wanted it to be a surprise.

Some surprise. It looked as if he had given her poison.

He could see that she was attempting to keep up appearances by plastering a half-hearted smile on her face, but he could tell. She wasn’t happy—at all.

Once the last of the guests had arrived—or at least, he prayed they were the last of the guests as the ballroom looked like it was full enough, the orchestra started playing, and he turned to Ann. “May I have this dance?”

Without giving her the time to reply, he whisked her out onto the dance floor and they waltzed around it. She was almost breathless, but it didn’t take long for her eyes to look a little more carefree than they had a few moments before. Was he correct in assuming that she was now enjoying herself?

“Have I won you over?” he whispered, his heart drumming against his chest.

She sighed. “I suppose I can’t ignore your enthusiasm. It seems to be quite contagious.”

“I try to be infectious,” he whispered, smiling at her.

*****

Ann laughed. “Oh, Clarence. I had worried that we were too different to be a good fit—but mayhap, mayhap opposites attract for a reason. I wonder if an even marriage would become dull and tedious after a while. I do know that I am a boring person.”

He led her off the dance floor, and they walked out into the starry night. The hours had slipped away on her. She looked up at the moon, and felt oddly at peace. It was chilly, and she rubbed her arms briskly to bring some warmth into them. A footman rushed out to them carrying the cloak she had worn earlier.

Clarence must pay rather well for the servants rushed to do their bidding in a way that the servants at Broadway House never had. Of course, her father had treated them worse than dirt, so that might have played a part.

Clarence slipped the heavenly soft cloak around her shoulders, and she sighed instantly feeling warmer.

“Whoever called you boring was a bloody idiot,” he snorted, “Thunder an turf, you cannot believe that?”

“My father called me that—and a few other people. All of whom were chums of my father’s. I guess over time, you get accustomed to hearing it, and you start to believe it. I think I am going to have to relearn a lot of things about myself now that I have you in my life, Clarence.”

“And I am not going anywhere,” he said softly.

“I thank God for that,” she sighed. He pulled her around so she faced him. She wanted to touch his face again. He seemed to put her under a spell. No matter what she thought about them being ill matched before, had all faded away. Now she only wanted to be with him. “In your immortal words, Clarence, you look all the crack today. You cut quite a handsome profile. I do believe you might have surpassed your Papa. He might have just lost the crown of most fashionable dandy in the ton to you.”

“I am not a dandy…am I?” he asked, looking a little wounded.

She laughed again. “Oh, Clarence. You are a man of fashion. But you are not a fop. You are no ninny, and I wouldn’t call you a fashion monger. You are just a terribly handsome man who knows how to dress well, and you certainly have the body for it.”

Her face burned, and she flew her colours, realizing what she had said. She had admitted to him quite openly that she admired his physical attributes.

He gave her a wicked smile, and pulled out a sprig of mistletoe. “Now that is one way to heal my wounded ego. One very fine way.” Holding the mistletoe over her head, he said, “You cannot deny me a kiss now, Ann.”

He drew her even closer, and claimed his lips with his. More warmth flooded through her and heated her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. She felt glorious. As she broke away from him, she sighed. “I must have time to have my say, Clarence. I…I am not overly fond of surprises,” she confessed, in a small voice.

“You aren’t?” he asked dumbfounded. “I thought I knew everything there was to know about you. I always listened to whatever Ginny relayed when talking about you and your family. I am certain I would have remembered her saying that you disliked surprises. Yes, indeed, that is something that would have stuck in my head.”

She smiled. “I hope that Ginny didn’t air all of my affairs for all of you to listen to as if I were a character in a play. It would seem there are things we both need to learn about each other. For one, I like to know what is coming. I like to plan for it, that way I can be ready for whatever happens.”

“I can’t imagine how you felt after your father told you that he was going to marry you off to Sir Wilfrid. You must have felt as if a cannonball had blown you to bits,” he sighed. “I do apologize, Ann. I didn’t do this to upset you. I thought it would delight you.”

“Delight isn’t exactly what I felt, once I realized you had invited half the ton.”

He chuckled. “I see. That is why you looked so terribly vexed. I am sorry if you felt as if I bamboozled you.”

She sighed. “I…I am over my fit of the blue devils, Clarence. It was a fleeting fit. It isn’t actually that bad, I suppose. Now…now thanks to you, I find that I am enjoying myself. Perhaps, with your help, you will make me discover things about myself I didn’t know.”

“And it only took one dance. I guess I am irresistible after all.” He gave her a dazzling grin.

“You are a cheeky devil, Clarence. Oh, my stars, if nothing else, you lighten my spirit. When you are with me, you make me feel as if I haven’t a care in the world.”

“I almost cannot believe that we are finally riveted. I set my cap on you, dreaming on this day. Imagining that we would become tenants for life, and I don’t think I shall ever quite get over the fact that you are real—and here with me. I shall thank my lucky stars every single day for you.”

*****

Clarence wanted to kick himself in the arse for arranging the ball. He had wanted to impress her. He had wanted to publicly proclaim his love for Ann so everyone in the ton could see it. He had done that. He had given the most brilliant party this month, and now…now, he felt wretched about it.

In hindsight, he had been a bloody fool. He never should have done this—now…now, he had to share her with all of the guests, and he wanted her all to himself. He selfishly coveted her attention. He should have kept it a small and private affair like she had wanted. Instead, he had thrown his money and his power around, only to rue it bitterly.

“We could slip away from here, Ann, and take our celebrations upstairs,” he said huskily.

She smiled at him. “Oh, why spoil the fun now?” she asked, her brown eyes dancing merrily. “You invited this kind of entertainment into the house, why not continue with it? We daren’t disappoint our guests. The hosts must always keep a stiff upper lip. I learned that from my Mama.”

Hearing a commotion coming from inside of the house, they turned to clap eyes on the scene that was being created.

“
W
here the bloody hell is my daughter? I want to see my chit of a daughter. She has to help me—if she doesn’t, I shall be dead by tomorrow. Where is she? You must have her brought before me! Let me go you bloody bastard. Who do you think you are to place your hands on me? You are just a footman! I am the Earl of Broadway.”