A Christmas Bride (15 page)

“You remembered that?”

“Yes, just before we came down to greet your uncle. Do I have any family living other than my sister and brother? Mayhap I have cousins, too.”

Setting himself on his feet, he put his hand on her shoulder, then raised it to run it gently against her cheek. “I should have considered that, but I have been wrapped up in my own fretting.”

“You did consider that. You wrote to London to find out what you could about my brother and sister.”

“And heard nothing.” He took in a deep breath, then let it slide past his clenched teeth. “I think 'tis time I jostle Ballard's elbow.”

“Ballard?”

“My solicitor. 'Tis time to remind him that you are waiting anxiously for any information he might have garnered during his prowls about Town.”

“No matter what it is, I shall not leave before your grandfather's party on Christmas Eve.”

“As you promised.”

“I know I promised, but I wanted to reassure you on that point.” She gave him a weak smile. “My head has been banged up some, but not enough that I would not recall a promise I had made to you.”

“I suspect you hold all vows you make most dear.”

“Yes.” Should she say more? Should she speak of how, when she came down the stairs each morning, she listened for the sound of his voice among all the others? Should she tell him how his touch trilled through her like the first birdsong of spring? “I know how important this is to you.”

He turned her slowly to face him. “But do you know how important
you
are to me through all this?”

A knock on the door halted her answer. Clamping her lips closed before the words could tumble out, she threaded her fingers together in front of her as he went to the door. She heard Theodora's nurse's apology for intruding.

Going to the door, Serenity said, “Tell Theodora we will be there posthaste.”

Nurse nodded, her ruddy hair bouncing out of its bun, before she turned and rushed toward Theodora's room.

“We have berry strands to make,” Serenity added into the silence that was left behind the nurse. “I do not want to disappoint Theodora by making her wait a moment longer.”

“But you will disappoint me?”

She backed away a step from the potent need in his gaze, but bumped into the open door. As he closed the distance between them, she gripped the edge of the door to keep her fingers from sweeping up his arms as she invited him to enfold her to him. “Timothy.…”

“Don't tell me you don't understand what I mean,” he whispered. “I can see the truth in your eyes that glow like soft pools of a sunlit sky.” His hand raised to cup her cheek, then lowered. “And I can see, as well, that you are the wiser of the two of us to know that, if I do not wish to disappoint my grandfather, I must be disappointed.”

“Yes.” She dared say no more, for the entreaty for him to pull her into his arms burned on her tongue.

“You do not say that you are disappointed as well, sweetheart.”

Her fingers tightened on the door at the endearment she longed to believe he meant with sincerity. Quietly she said, “I know what I must do and how I must act if I am to have the life I should after this is over.”

“And you are gone away?”

She nodded.

“I don't like to think of that time,” he whispered.

“Nor do I, but I must.”

With a sigh, he stepped back and held out his hand to her. “Let neither of us think of that now. Let's think only of how many more berries I can string this afternoon than you can.”

“Do you really think you can best me in stitching them together, Timothy?” She let her voice lighten and saw his lips tilt in the beginnings of a smile. “You may be able to build a fancy factory, but I must have much more experience than you with a needle.”

“Shall we see about that?”

She slipped her hand into his, wondering how anything that should not be could be so wondrous. “Yes, we shall.”

Eleven

“What the …”

Timothy looked up from where he had been watching Serenity help Theodora thread cranberries and crab apples along a string that reached from her chair nearly to the hearth in Grandfather's favorite reading room. He laughed when the earl wiped spots of juice from his face.

“I thought this was supposed to be
dried
fruit,” Lord Brookindale grumbled.

“Apparently some of it is not totally dry.” Timothy handed his grandfather a handkerchief. Sitting back on the floor and picking up his own needle and piece of thread that was almost covered with fruit, he asked, “How long does Aunt Ilse want this strand of dried fruit?”

“She said to fill up all the threads.” Serenity turned to look at the lengths of stringed fruit that snaked around the room. “It appears that we are almost finished.”

Theodora chuckled as Serenity held a piece of fruit for her to slip the needle through. “That is good, because we are nearly out of fruit.”

“Mrs. Gray told me that this last canister was the final one she could spare unless the household wanted to be without fruit for the rest of the winter.” Serenity edged the crab apple closer to Theodora's needle. “Watch out for my fingers!”

“I am trying.” Theodora giggled.

Timothy glanced at his grandfather as the earl laughed along with the little girl. Serenity might have come into this household as a stranger, but she was showing those who lived here how to be a family. Since Serenity had brought Theodora to join in family events, there had been a return of his grandfather's gentleness that Timothy recalled from his own childhood.

When his grandfather stood, Timothy came to his feet as well. He followed the earl to the other side of the room and nodded when his grandfather held up a bottle of wine. Taking the glass the earl handed him, he was not surprised when his grandfather said, “You must want to say something very important to me, or you would not have wandered so far from Serenity's side.”

“Shall I simply say that I am pleased at how well Serenity has fit into this family?”

“Bah!” Lord Brookindale sniffed his disagreement. “You had no worries about that, for you told me from the onset that she seemed perfect to be your bride.”

“Don't confuse optimism with practicality.”

“That
I
would never do, my boy.” He sat in a chair near the table where the rest of the bottle of wine waited. Looking back at where Serenity was laughing with Theodora, he added, “Tell me what is truly on your mind.”

Timothy wished he could obey that order. Yes, the whole of this was going far better than he had had any reason to expect, but he still wished to be honest with his grandfather about the tale he had spun. Swallowing his sigh before it could betray him, he replied, “I am pleased that Serenity has opened our eyes to Theodora.”

“Yes, she has.” Lord Brookindale's smile dimmed. “She dares to love that child, no matter the consequences.”

“That seems to be her way.”

“It is a very special way. I know she suspects that the child has been isolated apurpose, and she is not so wrong.” He took a drink of his wine, and Timothy noticed that his hands shook. “From the day Theodora was born, we feared she would not survive for long. I have lost so many of those I have loved that I did not want to love and lose another.”

“So you gave her that pretty room to die in to ease your guilt and kept yourself distant?”

He nodded. “This is nothing I am proud of, mind you, but it allowed me to forgive her mother for abandoning her and to forgive myself for doing much the same, even though I made sure she had excellent nurses.”

“To own the truth, I thought you were doing the best thing for her.”

“Then Serenity arrived, and she tipped everything over and inside out.” His smile returned as he raised his glass toward Timothy. “Your marriage to her will never been serene, but it should be very interesting and most pleasurable. She is clearly a woman of strong passions, a woman who matches your stubborn nature.”

Timothy could not keep his gaze from going to Serenity. On her knees by Theodora's chair, she smiled warmly as she concentrated on holding the cranberry where the little girl could push the needle into it. Then Serenity helped thrust the needle through and held Theodora's hand while they guided the piece of fruit along the string. He guessed Serenity's fingers must be pocked with marks from the tip of the needle, but she had not complained as she made Theodora a part of whatever Aunt Ilse had planned.

Strong passions? That, he believed, was an understatement. Serenity's eyes mirrored her every emotion, each one powerful and a challenge to any man who dared to come close enough to sample them. And sample them was what he wished to do. How she had trembled when he kissed her hand! He longed to hold her in his arms as his lips found hers while she quivered against him.

“A groom-to-be should be besotted with his lady love,” Grandfather said with a low rumble of a laugh. “That is why I wanted you to find love instead of dragging you into some silly arranged marriage that would have made you miserable.”

“You arranged my parents' marriage, and they were quite happy.”

His full brows rose. “Not at first. Your mother thought your father was an insufferable fool, and he considered her to have no thoughts about anything but spending his money.” With another laugh, he added, “But they got past that quickly.”

“I am glad to hear that.”

“I am sure you are! You and Serenity will not have to go through those months of pretending to care about each other during the day and avoiding each other at night.” Lord Brookindale glanced again at Serenity. “I would say you might be suffering from quite the opposite.”

Timothy folded his hands around his glass. “I have not cuckolded the parson with her, if that is what you are hinting at, Grandfather.”

“I am speaking of your thoughts, my boy, not your actions.”

“One's thoughts are seldom easy to control.”

“You are beginning to learn a hint of life's wisdom, my boy. If—”

“Oh, my!” Serenity's cry froze Timothy with his glass partway to his lips.

He did not hesitate as she gasped again. Shoving his glass into his grandfather's hand, he leaped across the room in a pair of steps. “What is wrong?”

Serenity continued to stare at Theodora, but whispered, “She moved it.”

“It?”

Grasping Theodora's hand, Serenity blinked back tears of joy. Had she been mistaken? No, she was sure of what she had seen.

“You moved your arm!” she whispered.

Theodora stared at her right arm. “I did. It moved.”

“Impossible!” The earl came to his feet and walked over to them, disbelief mixing with hope on his face. “We were told she would never be able to move it.”

“Look for yourself.” Serenity motioned to Theodora. “Can you do it again?”

The little girl wrinkled her face with concentration. Serenity stood and clenched her hands at her side. When Timothy took one in his, she did not look at him. His fingers were as rigid as hers as they waited to see if Theodora could shift her arm once more.

Theodora's elbow contracted so slightly that Serenity wondered if she would have noticed if she had not been watching.

“I did it!” cried the little girl.

“You did!” Serenity hugged her. “She did it!”

She stepped back as the earl, unabashedly weeping, put his arms around Theodora. The little girl giggled and looked back at her right elbow. She strained to move it again.

Serenity cheered, then gasped as Timothy whirled her into his arms, embracing her as she had Theodora. When she started to ease out of his arms so she could congratulate the little girl, his arms tightened. She was tugged up against his chest. She looked up at him, startled. Before she could halt it, her hand brushed his face, and he grinned as broadly as Theodora.

“Shall we celebrate with Theodora now?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, certainly.”

His voice dropped to a raw whisper. “And later alone?”

“Yes, certainly,” she answered again, but with a quiver of anticipation that she could not submerge. It lingered, growing stronger each time Timothy's gaze met hers, while the earl ordered tea and cakes brought to toast Theodora's accomplishment.

“I must finish that device to assist her,” Timothy said as Serenity walked with him toward the front of the house after both Theodora and the earl had retired for a nap.

“She will need it even more if she can continue to move her elbow. It is only a beginning, I realize, but if she continues to use it, she may find it easier and easier.”

He slipped his arm around her waist while they walked past rooms draped in twilight as the early winter night claimed the moor. “As I find touching you?”

“It is hardly the same thing.”

“Then mayhap I should have said
not
touching you.”

She paused, baffled. She had been so sure that he shared her delight with the stolen caresses. “That is easier?”

“
Au contraire
. It is easier not to resist touching you.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, for she could no longer resist being close to him. There were not many days left until the earl's birthday celebration. Then … She did not know what she would do then, but the chance to savor him against her would be lost.

Timothy smiled as he stopped in front of a set of double doors that were intricately carved. She had passed them before and wondered what was on the other side.

As if he were privy to her thoughts again, he said, “I have noted how you glance at these doors each time you walk by them. Let me ease your curiosity, and tell you that here is where the ball will be held.”

When he threw open the doors, she knew he had done it for the best effect. Windows that reached to the ceiling, which must be twice as high as the one here in the hall, were not softened by drapes. The half-moons at the top of each one welcomed in the thin winter moonlight to let it inch along the stone floor. In the very center of the floor, a fire pit suggested that this section of the house was almost as ancient as the moors themselves.