The Risqué Resolution (7 page)

His fingers began to drum on the hard
wood of the desk. If given the choice, he would have preferred to take his
time.
To court Lily as she deserved to be courted.
To
woo her and love her and whisper sweet nothings in her air as they danced in the
moonlight. But he wasn’t that man anymore, and she didn’t have the patience to
be that woman.

Would it work? Christmas was little
more than three weeks away. He knew the strain of it must have been hanging
over Lily’s head like a guillotine, and he did not begrudge her
her
actions, nor condemn her for them. She’d been willing
to risk all for her family, but even with the solution to all of her problems
right in front of her she had not gone through with it. There must have been a
reason above and beyond her moral conscience. He liked to think that reason was
him
, but he could not know until he did what needed to
be done.

Resting his elbow on the table, James
buried his face in the hard, leather skin of his palm and for the first time
since his return, murmured a prayer.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Christmas
Eve

Eight hours. That was all that stood
between her and complete financial ruin. Standing to back of a caroling group,
hidden in shadow and half-heartedly mouthing along the words to a song she knew
by heart, Lily could not help but think of her many failures.

If she’d only listened to her father
more and argued with her mother less.
Paid attention during
her tutoring sessions.
Learned how to sew a decent stitch.
Feigned interest in a man when he was talking to her, even if he
was terribly boring.
Played the pianoforte with grace. Bitten her tongue
instead of blurting out the first thought that entered her head. So many little
things she’d been too stubborn to fix and now here she was without a prayer of
finding a husband.

And still, even after everything, she
thought of James.

It had been
twenty
four
long, lonely days since the holiday fair.
Twenty
four
mornings of waking up and racing downstairs to see if any note had
been delivered during the night.
Twenty four
afternoons spent at home on the offhand chance he happened by to see her.
Twenty four
nights spent dreaming of him.

She was absolutely miserable, and she
knew her misery was born of a broken heart. The stupid man had made her fall in
love with him and then she’d mucked it all up. At first she tried to convince
herself it was simply a passing fancy. After all, he was her first. But she
knew, deep in her soul, that no matter if one man or a hundred came after him,
he would always be her only.

The only
one to make her laugh.

The only
one to make her yearn.

The only
one to touch her heart.

This is what happens when you fall in love with broken men
, she thought darkly.
You
end up being the one broken in the end
.

The carolers, immersed in their songs
and feelings of goodwill, moved onwards down the lane towards the next house,
lighting the way with candles and torches decorated with ribbons and holly.
Lily stayed in the shadows, letting her mother and Elsa go on without her. She
was not fit for company, and she did not want her mood to ruin the night for
anyone else.

“I thought the point of caroling was to
sing,” a deep, achingly familiar voice drawled from the
shadows
.

Lily jumped and whirled, kicking out a
spray of snow. She squinted into the darkness, trying to decipher shape from
shadow, and could not help but gasp aloud when James stepped forward from
beneath the eves of a shed. He held a single candle, the light from it
illuminating his face.

“What… what are you
doing
here?”

He stepped closer and the circle of
light enveloped her in its rosy glow. “I asked Lady
Heathcliff
where I could find you. She was very helpful.”

Sarah,
who had begged off the evening’s festivities because of a head cold.
Sarah, who had known
James
would
come looking for her. Sarah, who was not long for this world once Lily got her
hands on her.

She shook her head. “I do not
understand.”

“I know,” James said softly. “It should
not make sense, but it does.”

“
What
does?”

He held her
gaze,
his dark, soulful eyes unblinking and for once she could read the emotion
swirling behind the wall of stone. It struck a chord in her heart, pulling her
towards him even as she dug in her heels and did her best to resist. “You. Me.
Us.
We
make sense,” he said. “I do
not now how, or why, but we bloody well do. You know it as well. I know you
do.”

Lily bit her lip and looked away. In
the distance she could hear the joyful notes of a familiar Christmas ballad and
she was reminded of the date, and all the implications it carried with it. She
twisted away, giving him her shoulder. “You are only saying this because you
feel obligated. You shouldn’t,” she said, more sharply than she intended.
“There will be no… no complications from our time spent together and it was as
much my fault as it was yours, so do not think you have ruined me. I ruined
myself.”

“Lily.”

She tensed at the sound of her name on
his lips. Had he ever spoken it aloud before? She didn’t know. She could not
remember. “If you are here out of pity or some foolish sense of—”

He stepped forward, closing the
distance between them in one long, loping stride. His hand fell heavily on her
arm and he spun her around. Yanked her tight against his chest. “I came here
for
you
,” he said fiercely.

She tilted her head back, searching for
the truth in his eyes. What she saw left her breathless. Still, she dared not
believe what was right in front of her. Dared not believe such a thing was even
possible. “If that is true, where have you been?”

“In Edinburgh and London and every
other bloody place I could think of to secure a special marriage license.”

At that, Lily’s vocal chords quite
simply stopped working. Her lips parted, but no sound came out save a squeak
that James seemed to find quite amusing if his sudden grin was any indication.
It was there and gone again before she had time to blink, but the trace of it
lingered in his eyes and touched something deep inside her heart.

“I’ve been granted one from the
archbishop,” he said, answering her unspoken question, “and the parish priest
is ready to marry us. We can be wed tonight, if you wish it, and you need never
worry again for the future of your family. Between myself and your father’s
will, they shall be well provided for.”

“T-tonight?” Lily croaked. “But… but it
is all happening so quickly.”

James steadied her against his chest
when she would have pulled back. His arm tightened around the curve of her hip,
holding her against him, refusing to let go. “Do you think my feelings will be
any less a month from now?
Or a year?
For the first
time in a long time I know exactly what I want, Lily Kincaid. And nothing will
change that.”

“You barely know me.” Lily didn’t know
why she was resisting. This was what she wanted. What she’d dreamed of. But to
wish for something wondrous to happen and then to actually be granted such a
wish were two very different things entirely. How could James possibly want
her? She’d been rude to him. Tricked him. Called him names.
And loved him
, a softer voice intruded.
Listened to him. Held him while he slept.
Treated him as a man, not a monster. Seen him as he is now, not who he used to
be.

James slowly slid his arm from around
her back. He cupped her jaw, his thumb reaching up to trace along the delicate
curve of her cheekbone. “I know you are intelligent. I know you are witty. I
know you are beautiful. I know you are brave and strong and stubborn to a
fault. I know you make me want to be a better man.” He took a deep breath. “I
am not healed, Lily. I have scars on the outside and within. I am not perfect,
but I know we are perfect for each other. We may have only known each other for
a short time, but my soul knows you, Lily. I
know
you.”

Her lips parted. She scrambled to think
of the right thing to say but her heart was melting, and her mind was quickly
following suit. In the end, she said what she felt in the depths of her soul.
Staring up into James’ eyes, seeing the love shining through as bright as the
stars in the sky, she whispered, “I know you.”

And she did.   

EPILOGUE

In the end, they were not married on Christmas
Eve.

Lily did not want James to think the
only reason she was marrying him was to preserve the inheritance, and even
though he was adamant to the contrary, she stood firm.

“Stubborn brat,” he told her with great
affection.

“Goose livered nincompoop,” she replied
before she looped her arms around his neck and kissed him senseless. 

They told Lily’s mother on Christmas
morning. She wept, and declared it was the best present she had ever received.
The two families dined together, and Natalie and Elsa were already on their way
to becoming the very closest of friends.

The only damper on an otherwise perfect
evening was the arrival of Cousin Eustace and Venetia, who came uninvited while
dessert was being served. Lily still wasn’t certain what James said to her
cousin; all she knew was Eustace vowed not to lay a finger on her dowry and
left with all haste, dragging his squabbling wife behind him.

They were married the day after
Christmas. True to his word James had been able to procure a special license
and the parish priest, a short, bald man with twinkling blue eyes and a ready
smile, wed them before their closest family and loved ones.

When Lily and James emerged from the
church shoes were thrown – for luck – and as if on cue snow began
to fall from the sky. Tipping her head back, Lily caught a flake on her tongue.
With her face tilted up towards the heavens she saw, for an instant, a bright
flash of light. Warmth spread over her, and she tightened her grip on her
husband’s arm. He gazed down at her, and she knew the love in his eyes was
echoed in her own.

Lily still wasn’t sure exactly when it
happened, or how. She only knew she loved the man standing beside her with all
her heart, and she was blessed to be able to spend the rest of her life with
him.
To keep a home with him.
To
raise a family with him.
To love him unconditionally,
until her last breath was taken.

Their
future together would not be an easy one
,
Lily knew that as well
. They would argue and fight –
they were both too stubborn not
to
. But through all
the trials and tribulations she knew their love would shine like a beacon,
brightening their lives and always bringing them back to each other in the end.
   

Again she looked to the sky, this time
with understanding. “Thank you Father,” she whispered, “and Merry Christmas.”
  

READ ON FOR AN EXCERPT FROM JILLIAN EATON’S HISTORICAL
ROMANCE NOVELLA

THE
SPINSTER AND THE DUKE

AVAILABLE NOW ON AMAZON & BARNES & NOBLE!

THE
SPINSTER & THE DUKE

PROLOGUE

June,
1785

Ashburn
Estate

The ring felt heavy on her finger.

Staring down at the thick gold band
with the Ashburn family crest engraved into the middle, Abigail blinked back
tears.
Do not cry in front of him
,
she ordered herself silently.
Don’t you
dare
.

“Abby, I… I am sorry.” Looking
supremely uncomfortable, Rocky – better known to his peers as Reginald
Browning the Third,
Marquess
of Rutherford and future
Duke of Ashburn – ran his fingers through his thick brown hair and
scowled down at the floor. “I never wanted it to end like this.”

Abigail never wanted it to end at all,
even though some small part of her knew – had always known, perhaps
– that it would. She was the daughter of a baron. Rocky was the sole heir
to a dukedom. Their love was never meant to last.

“I want you to take the ring,” she said
softly.

“No, Abby, you keep—”

But it was already off her finger. She
clenched it tight in her fist, feeling the weight of it, the smoothness. It had
felt so
right
on her hand that she’d
let herself believe… but no. Some things were simply not meant to be, no matter
how much you wished it otherwise.

“It was never mine to keep.” She opened
her fingers and the ring fell with a quiet
plink
onto the table between them. Straightening in her chair Abigail gazed past
Rocky to the window. It was partially open, allowing a warm breeze to flutter
through the stuffy parlor. She pulled at the high collar of her gown and took a
deep, steadying breath. “I should be going now.”

For one fleeting moment she thought
Rocky was going to change his mind. A tiny flame of hope flickered within her,
only to be abruptly extinguished when he stood up and formerly offered his arm
as though she was a passing acquaintance instead of the girl he had pledged his
heart to.

Do not cry. Whatever you do, do
not
cry.

Her chest aching with the force it took
to hold her tears at bay, Abigail walked beside him in stiff legged silence.
When they reached the grand foyer she hesitated, her gaze trained on the door
that would not only take her outside to the carriage that waited to take her
home, but out of
Rocky’s
life forever.

“Abby…”

She detested the quiet plea in his
voice. He wanted her to leave without a fuss so he could go on with his life as
though she never existed. So he could sweep the memory of her beneath the rug
as though she were dust.

Abigail lifted her chin. She may not
have been the woman the Dowager Duchess of Ashburn wanted her eldest son and
heir to marry, but that did not make her
dirt
.
She was not some secret mistress or scandalous affair. She was
Rocky’s
fiancée – or at least she had been, before
she took his ring off her finger and put it on the table.

“I am going to live with my sister in
Leeds,” she informed him. “She has a young daughter and is need of a
governess.”

Reggie’s blue eyes went wide. “I do not
want you to leave.”

Abigail regarded him
steadily,
schooling her countenance to hide the fact that she was perilously close to
tears. “But you do not love me enough to want me to stay.”

He dropped her arm and stepped back,
his jaw tightening and clenching as he fought to disguise his own emotions. At
twenty-two, Reggie was a boy on the verge of manhood. He was undeniably
handsome with dark hair, piercing eyes the same color of the sky on a cold
winter’s day, and chiseled features. He would be handsomer still in time, and
Abigail felt a renewed sense of loss as she realized she would never know the
man he would one day grow to be.

“Do not do this Abby,” he said gruffly.
“We said our goodbyes. There is no need to make this harder than it already
is.”

There was every need, but Abigail
merely nodded. The time for words had passed. There was nothing else she could
say. Nothing else she could do. “I hope you have a happy life.” Shoulders
pulled back, hazel eyes sparkling with unshed
tears,
she took a deep breath and walked out the door.

As he watched her leave, Reggie knew
only one thing for certain: with Abby gone he would never know true happiness
again.