Christmas Bliss (4 page)

She continued to watch him with an expression of both
caution and delight.

In that moment, he realized it was the dichotomy of her that
attracted him so completely. She was young, yet played the role of a much older
woman, taking care of her father and then her brother. Her beauty was beyond
compare, yet she seemed to have not taken notice. She had been raised to be a
lady of leisure and privilege, yet took it upon herself to steal out in the
night with a small child in order to protect him. There was nothing about her
that made any sense and yet she was perfect.

He sat down next to her. “But it was I who was the fool,
Emma. Now I know what it was they saw. When I look at you, I see the whole of
my life laid out before me. Your eyes are brighter than ten moons and your
beauty is so much more extraordinary than the sun that the comparison is
ridiculous.”

He paused and took a breath. Her hands had somehow made
their way into his and he was looking into the depths of those stunning blue
eyes. “But this is not the only reason why we should marry, Emma. While I have
never met a more beautiful or appealing woman, it is the way my heart clenches
when you enter the room. It is that from the moment I saw you in the light, I
could see our children running around behind you. I have never thought to
marry, my love. Throughout my adult life, it has always been my plan to remain
a bachelor until the necessity for an heir arose. Then you popped out of my
shrubberies and suddenly, waking up with you every morning for the rest of my
life has become more important to me than taking my next breath.”

He was prepared to go on. His training in the House of Lords
made him rush to complete the argument.

She raised one slim hand to his lips, curtailing any further
remarks. “That will do, John.” She laughed and her eyes sparkled with joyful
tears.

“It will?” he asked. The sensation from her fingers touching
his lips filled him with excitement.

“Yes. I think that will do quite nicely.”

He waited, but she didn’t go on. His stomach clenched,
causing him physical pain. She was laughing at him. She thought him ridiculous.
His heart sank and he looked down at his feet, wondering what he was going to
do for the rest of his life without Emma Trent.

Of course, she was right. He’d met her less than twenty-four
hours ago and now he was proposing and trying to come up with flowery prose to
impress her.
I’m an idiot. No grown man proposes after so short a time.

She still sat looking at him. When she finally opened her
mouth, he felt himself cringe before she spoke what he was sure would be a rejection.

“I can think of nothing that will make happier than becoming
your wife, John.”

His head popped up. Had he heard her correctly? “Are you
saying that you will marry me?”

“I am. I cannot believe it myself, but that is exactly what
I am saying.” Her smile was bright as she dashed away tears.

There was still laughter in her eyes, but now he could see
it was joyous laughter. She was not mocking him. He began to breathe again. His
mind started to function. He hadn’t realized that he’d shut down, body and mind.
His thoughts had already turned to mourning the loss. Now his heart pounded
with renewed vigor. His brain churned with all the things that had to be done.
“We…we should leave immediately for Scotland.”

“Scotland?” Her voice rose.

He tried to keep his voice level. It wasn’t easy, since his
feet seemed to want to jump for joy. “My love, I know it seems rash and I would
surely prefer it if we could have a short engagement in town and be seen about.
However, the issue of your uncle makes that impractical. I think it would be
best if we were married immediately and then I can make haste in dealing with
him.”

She stood up and began to pace slowly around the room. Her
hands clenched and unclenched.

He watched her carefully as she thought through everything
he’d said. He couldn’t help smiling at the way her nose wrinkled as she
considered the consequences. Then his eyes traveled down to her waist and he
thought about how it had felt to hold her. He longed to go to her now and crush
her against him.

She stopped and stared out the garden window. Before he
could stop himself, he was behind her. She did not move away, but leaned back
into his embrace. Her hair smelled of lavender and a spice he did not know.
Fiery curls escaped down her neck, and he wound one around his finger, dipping
his head to kiss the soft lock. He could not stop there and his lips touched
the warm skin of her nape. She leaned her head to one side affording him better
access. A low moan issued from her lips when he traced a line with his tongue along
her neck to her ear.

“John, your mother is just in the next room,” she warned.

“She can wait.”

Her muscles relaxed and melted into his chest. He tightened
his embrace.
Mine
. His heart surged with protective instinct. The
happiness he experienced with that thought almost undid him. He had to steady
his legs and he began to worry that these waves of emotion would not settle
down. How could he manage from day to day if every time his wife entered the
room he became woozy?
His wife.
His good fortune pushed every other idea
or worry away. Emma was going to be his wife and the sooner he made that
happen, the better.

Still, he had to keep his head for the time being. He
straightened and moved a few inches away. “Perhaps you are right,” he said.

She turned and looked at him. Her face was a mixture of
confusion and joy. He wondered if she knew the power she wielded over him.

“I think it best if we leave for Scotland before the hour is
out. It will not take long for your uncle to discover your whereabouts if we
remain here,” John explained, while shifting his stance in an effort to find
comfort again in his straining trousers.

Panic flushed her face. “I cannot leave Oliver.”

She would go to Scotland. His heart did a flip-flop. He
lifted his hand to touch her cheek and then thought better of it. He thought it
best to keep his hands off until after the wedding. He was a grown man. He
practiced restraint every day. He could wait a few hours. “Of course not. The
boy will be safer with us. He shall come to the wedding and we shall ask my
mother to join us. It will certainly make the marriage more legitimate and less
scandalous.”

* * * * *

The countess was not as easily convinced. “Have you lost
your mind, John?”

He felt calmer now that he knew what to do. His emotions
were in check since Emma had gone upstairs to see if the maid could find any
clothes in storage that would fit her.

He sat at his desk writing several letters that would have
to be delivered that morning. He couldn’t just disappear without informing his
party and several business associates of his departure.

Joy roiled in his belly and not even his mother’s raised
voice could tarnish the feeling. “Actually, I have never felt better, Mother.”

“I do not see the need for such a rush. Besides Christmas is
only four days away. We have balls, the theater, we have obligations here in
town.”

He had never seen her so unnerved.

He put his pen down on the desk. “You yourself told me not
ten minutes ago that Drake Trent was a ruthless, violent man. You told me that
he has been seen beating his staff on more than one occasion and that he
bludgeoned a fine horse to death because it lost a race.”

“Yes, but you cannot think he would use such violence
against his own family.”

He gave it a moment’s thought. “I know that men of a violent
nature are dangerous to those they control. I cannot properly protect Emma or
Oliver if I am not her husband. I certainly can’t file with the courts for
stewardship of Oliver’s money until we are married.”

She sat down in the chair across from him, took several
moment to calm herself and when she spoke, her voice was serene. “John, you are
a man of reason and influence.”

“Are you maneuvering me, Mother?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “Continue.” She was even more stubborn than he,
so he may as well listen. She would have her say one way or the other.

“You have the ability to get a special license. You can be
married within a week. A Christmas wedding, perhaps.” Her eyes lit up.

He could see she liked this idea. It actually appealed to
him as well.

“Surely you can hold off any ugliness from the uncle for a
few days.”

He could do all the things his mother suggested. He had
enough friends in high places to make all of that happen and his mother could
arrange the church for a Christmas wedding in only four days.

“Do you really wish to spend three days in a carriage with
me and Oliver? Not to mention spending your wedding night with us.”

She had played all her cards and she had won.

“I will discuss it with Emma.”

His mother beamed. “Very wise, son.”

He smiled, all the while knowing that his mother was mostly
pleased that she had gotten her way. “Now, Mother, tell me what you know of the
Trent finances.”

Her smile faded. “As far as I know, Emma’s father was a
wealthy gentleman who inherited money and property that afforded him a very
comfortable lifestyle.”

“And Drake?” John asked.

She pursed her lips in a way that made her look as if she’d
tasted something sour. “Drake was the second son. Everything was entailed to
the eldest. His brother gave him a very handsome allowance and a nice home
somewhere in Derbyshire, I think.”

“Did Drake receive the profits from that property?”

“From what I am told, and you realize this is gossip, John.”

“I’m certain that your sources are better than most,
Mother.”

She shrugged. “Drake gambles heavily. He also drinks to
excess. I understand he likes to wager his business dealings as well. In doing
so, over the years, his brother had to buy his own property back on more than
one occasion.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met Drake Trent. To be honest, I
barely remember Emma’s father.”

His mother smiled. “You were young, then at school and then
too busy after your father died to take notice.

A terrible thought occurred to him. “Mother, have I
neglected you?”

Her eyes enlarged for a moment. “I have always been very
proud of you, John. You work hard at the things you believe in and even at
those you don’t. I have always felt very lucky that we share an honest and open
relationship. It is very unusual for a son, especially one who is an earl, to
ask his mother’s opinion on a business deal or a political question. I have
enjoyed our debates when we disagree as much as our discussions when we’ve been
in agreement.”

He grinned. “I expect that I would be laughed out of the
House of Lords if they knew how many times you swayed my opinion, especially on
questions of the rights of women.”

“Yet you continued to seek my counsel,” she said.

John got up came around the desk before taking his mother’s
hand and kissing it. “Who better to ask on that subject than an intelligent
woman?”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Thank you, John.” She stood
up. “In answer to your question, I have not felt neglected. I have noticed in
the last few years you have not been happy. I wish I had broached that subject
with you.”

He kissed her cheek. “I appreciate you saying that, Mother.
You should know that it would not have changed my course of action. I am a bit
stubborn, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

She laughed and dashed the unshed tears away. “I think that
you and Emma will be very happy.”

He smiled. “And you are always correct, Mother.”

“Of course.” She gave him her sternest look, but the smile
was still in her eyes as she left the library.

Chapter Four

Her head was spinning. Two days ago, she thought she’d be
lucky if she could find a hack that would take Oliver and her to Plymouth
without them being killed in the street. Today she was to be married to an
earl. “I must have been hit on the head by some thug in the street and this is
all a strange dream.”

“Pardon me, miss?” The gown the maid was pressing had been
sent over by a modiste that the countess used. It was stunning in dark green
with a cream underskirt.

“Nothing.”

Emma was supposed to be making a list of things she needed
for her wedding, now to be held on Christmas day at St. George. How on earth
the countess had managed that was beyond her comprehension. The parchment in
front of her remained blank as she stared out the window.

“Shall I help you into your dress, miss?”

Emma turned toward the lady’s maid. She held the stunning
dress up as if it was a prize. “I suppose you should.”

She barely noticed the process of dressing and having her
hair trussed up in an ornate fashion. All she could think about was getting
married. Was she making the right decision? She didn’t even know John Scarborough.
He was a stranger. She had taken tea with his mother many times, but all she
knew of him was that he was never at home. He spent all his time in Parliament,
sitting in his family seat and arguing politics.

She knew little about the subject. What would they talk
about? Her body trembled with fear. She had lost her good sense.

Once they were married, she would never see him. Thoughts of
his warm brown eyes and soft kisses flooded her mind. She would be alone all
the time. This should have made her happy. After all, she would have the
countess for company and Oliver would still need her. So why did it trouble her
that John would never be home? It wasn’t exactly the dream marriage she’d
imagined as a young girl. She should, at her age, be happy with any marriage.
Yet she still longed for something more.

Love. She sighed.

“There you are, miss.” The maid sounded exuberant, and with
good reason. When Emma looked in the glass, she barely recognized the woman
staring back.

“Thank you. You have done a lovely job.”

“I’m pleased you like it.”

The room felt as if it were closing in. She rubbed and
twisted her fingers together until her knuckles turned white. She stood. “Do
you know where his lordship is?”

The girl looked confused. “You don’t like your hair,” she
said.

Emma thought the maid might burst into tears. “I love my
hair, Jane. I just need to see his lordship.”

Jane’s expression relaxed. “He is likely in the library at
this hour.”

“Thank you.” She hugged the maid impetuously. The poor girl
seemed completely at a loss for what to do.

Emma dashed out of the room. She meant to run down the steps
and confront John. She reasoned that she should call off this madness before it
went too far.

The nursery door was slightly opened and she could hear
Oliver talking. She peeked in. His little brown head was bent over a book and a
young girl sat next to him.

The maid acting as nanny looked up and smiled brightly.
“Miss Trent, you look beautiful.”

Oliver looked up. “Are you going out, Sissy?”

“I am. What are you doing?”

“Beth and I are reading a book.” He made the announcement
with a great deal of pride.

Emma entered fully into the room. “When did you learn to
read, Oliver.”

He grinned happily. “Beth does most of the reading. I just
pretend.”

“I see.” Her brother looked happy. He was rested and
healthy. He had not woken up with the terrors the night before. It was the
first full night’s sleep the child had enjoyed in nearly a year. She could not
remember the last time she had seen him play. Her eyes grew moist with tears she
would not allow her brother to see.

How could she deny him a happy childhood? The Earl of
Compton would provide a safe place for Oliver.

She inhaled deeply. “I will see you in the morning, Oliver.”

He ran over and she leaned down for a kiss. It was wet, but
she dared not wipe off his affection. “See you, Sissy.”

* * * * *

John’s head was bent over his desk. The library door had
been left open. In fact, she had noticed since arriving in the Scarborough
townhouse that most doors were left ajar. In her own home, her uncle was
constantly secreted away behind a locked door.

She didn’t even know if her fiancé had a temper. Did he mind
being disturbed while working? She cleared her throat nervously.

His head came up and his mouth turned up in a smile that lit
his eyes up with joy. “You are the most stunning thing I have ever seen.”

Obviously, he doesn’t mind being disturbed
. Her heart
beat wildly from the effects of his gaze. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”

“Nonsense. You are always welcome. Mother will be down shortly
and we can leave for the Treechery ball.”

The room started to spin. Everything that had happened in
the last twenty-four hours swirled around Emma’s mind. The edge of her vision
darkened.
I’m going to faint. That’s something new.

“Emma?” John’s strong hands gripped her arms firmly. She had
no idea how he’d gotten across the room so quickly, but he lifted her as if she
weighed nothing at all. Before she could say anything, he had placed her on a
soft sofa and was sitting beside her.

“I’m all right.”

“Clearly, you are not.” His voice was composed, but she
could hear strain behind the calm.

When had she learned that his voice became slightly higher
when he was upset?

The butler appeared in the doorway.

“Dorsey, lady Emma is feeling a bit under the weather. Can
you call for some tea?”

“At once, my lord.”

They were alone again.

“Do you faint often, Emma?”

She looked up into his eyes and she could clearly see his
worry. Reaching up, she touched his freshly shaven cheek. He was dressed for
the ball. His white cravat had been intricately tied.

“I have never fainted before. I supposed it is all the
excitement.”

“I see.” He frowned and a small crease marred the space
between his eyes.

Her hand seemed to move of its own accord when it reached up
to smooth his brow. “I’m sorry to be such trouble, John.” She didn’t know how
to continue. She’d never been good at small talk, so she would have to go
forward directly. “I’m not at all sure we should be getting married.”

“I feared that might be the case.” He made a move to leave
the couch. She caught his arm and he remained at her side.

“It’s all so fast. What if we are making a terrible
mistake?”

His eyes lit up and he smiled. Immediately her heart leapt.
How was she going to stand being married to a man she clearly cared for, but
who would never be home?

“I know this is all quite impetuous,” he began. “I’ve never
done a rash thing in my life until yesterday, Emma. It is entirely possible
that the risk outweighs the good in this situation, but I truly do not think
so. I want you as my wife. I can think of nothing better than spending my days
trying to make you happy.”

“You spend your days in the House of Lords.”

“I think I have good reason to cut back on my time in
politics from now on.”

“Won’t your party miss you?” Her head cleared, but her heart
still pounded wildly.

He shook his head. “For a very short time, I assure you.
They existed before I took up the cause and they will continue long after I’m
gone.”

“I don’t want you to change your life for me.” She sat up
tentatively and was pleased to realize that she felt no dizziness.

John opened his mouth, but the maid arrived with the tea and
he waited until she left the tray. Emma poured the tea while he got up and went
to the table near his desk. Removing a crystal decanter, he returned to the
couch. He poured some of the amber liquid into his cup and raised an eyebrow at
Emma.

She nodded and he added the same to her cup.

“That’s the thing.” He picked up his tea and took a sip. “I
can’t wait for that change. I had no idea how unhappy I was in my life until
you walked into it and I caught a glimpse of what happiness looks like. I don’t
feel as if it would be giving up something. You and Oliver will fill my life
quite nicely. Should we be lucky enough to have a few children of our own, it
will be even better.”

The idea of children had not even occurred to her yet, but
it had obviously crossed John’s mind. He wanted children. In the past two
years, she had given up all hope of ever marrying and having a family of her
own. Her mind reeled with the idea.

She was so caught up in an imaginary world of little Johns
and Emmas running around with Oliver that she didn’t realize she had not
responded.

“Don’t you want children, Emma?”

She shook her head a little to push aside the distracting
images. “I do. I love children. I just never thought… It doesn’t matter.”

He moved in close and she could smell his spicy, masculine
scent. She thought her faintness might return, but she looked up into his eyes
and any idea of fainting slipped away. In fact, she felt strong and sure as his
lips touched hers. His mouth caressed hers as if it was only a breath of air.

“Tell me what doesn’t matter, Emma.”

“I missed my seasons for the marriage mart.” She would have
said more, but his mouth covered her completely. His tongue requested entry and
she complied. It was over all too soon and he nipped at her bottom lip. Every
touch of his hands and the melting together of their lips increased her belief
that she was falling in love with John Scarborough. Her entire body hummed with
joy.

“Yes?” he asked.

Her brain took a moment to process what he wanted to know.
“I had given up.” She returned her gaze to his eyes. He still held her and his
hand at her waist created heat that emanated from head to toe. “I never
expected to have a family again.”

He grinned. “You shall have that and more, my dear.”

John kissed her forehead and released her waist. It was
disappointing to have him move away from her. His hand still left its warmth on
her skin even through the layers of clothing.

“Shall I tell Mother that we will not attend tonight?”

Emma took a deep breath. It was going to be a long night of
smiling and charming the members of the
ton
. She had to get her mind
focused on the task at hand. “No. The countess already told me that we must be
seen in public before the wedding. She’s correct, and I’m feeling much better.”
She gulped down a healthy amount of the strong tea, then put it down. It
wouldn’t do to get drunk before facing society at the ball.

* * * * *

As they entered the Treechery Ballroom, John’s hand covered
hers where it rested on his arm. “Relax. Everything is going to be fine.”

The countess stood at her left. An elegant smile lighted her
face. As she spoke, her expression never faded. “Not to worry. Once this is
over, we can get on with things. People just like a good gossip. You’ll dance,
sip some lemonade and then we can leave. We need only stay long enough to
ensure that you two are seen together and make it obvious that I am in full
approval of the match.”

The room twittered with whispers that began at the entry and
made their way around the large hall. Heads bent to discuss who the Earl of
Compton had on his arm. She heard her name, as it too made its way around the
room.

A roar filled the space. It sounded as if a large animal had
been mortally wounded. Every head in the room turned to try to identify the
horrible sound.

Emma did not turn. There was no need for her to try to
recognize the noise. Nothing, save Drake Trent, made such an uproar. Her hand
tightened on John’s arm and she looked up into his reassuring eyes.

The determined footsteps of her uncle echoed across the
ballroom. He walked straight through the crowded dance floor. Couples made an
effort to get out of his way. The ones who didn’t notice him in time were moved
forcibly if they dared block his path. He stormed single-mindedly toward Emma,
nearly tripping Lady Pleatwipple as he cursed and yelled his way across.

Emma squared her shoulders for battle and turned to face
him, but John was there beside her, blocking her uncle and warding off the blow
which was sure to have come next.

I am not alone. I shall never be alone again.
Was
that reason enough to marry a virtual stranger? Perhaps. For a moment, she
stared up at John’s handsome profile. His face looked completely serene, but in
his eyes she could see a ferocity she’d glimpsed the day before when he’d
proposed. She found herself riveted by the idea that now she would see his
temper.

Her curiosity nearly had her forgetting that her uncle was
upon them.

Drake Trent arrived before them with a grunt. Emma looked at
her uncle and forced a grin. “Good evening, Uncle Drake. I hope you are
enjoying yourself.”

He had a hulking figure and his stomach protruded so far
over his trousers that his evening coat could not be secured. Red-faced and
twisted with hatred and rage, his usual neat appearance was disheveled and his
eyes were ringed with dark circles. The little hair that remained on his
bulbous head stood straight up and he was covered in perspiration.

He narrowed his gray eyes. “How dare you speak as if nothing
is amiss? You are an abomination and that bastard brother of yours is no
better.”

John’s voice remained soft enough to not be heard by the
eager crowd, but it was harsher than she had ever heard before. “I cannot have
you speak to the lady in such a way, Trent. Even if we were alone, which
clearly we are not, you are out of order.”

She could see that her fiancé seethed just under the
surface. He had let her hand drop from his arm, but the muscle of his jaw ticked
and his lips were drawn in a straight line.