A Christmas Bride (20 page)

“Which would work perfectly for Theodora.”

“Do you think you could make something like this?”

He chuckled. “You tell me that your father did it for you. I cannot resist the challenge of re-creating something that has already been created.”

“And improving on it, because you will have to hook the sticks to the straps to go around her arm.”

“That part is already designed, although I want to make the straps easy enough to use that she can put the device on and take it off by herself.” He shook his head with a wry grin. “So simple. I was trying to make it far too complicated.”

“I wish I had thought of this earlier.”

His expression became somber. “You are remembering more and more. Have you recalled
anything
that will help us discover who you really are?”

“My father taught me about Eastern art and utensils. How many men can there be with that knowledge?”

“Any captain who has sailed to buy tea in China or any soldier who has been to the East or any gentleman who might be intrigued with the study of the East, as my father was.”

She sighed. “Your point is well-taken. I guess it does not help.”

“But it does.” He tapped her cheek with his fingertip. “There are many men who have no interest in the East. All we must do is look for one who does and who can tell us the truth of your past.”

“What if he is dead?” She could barely voice the fear that had taunted her since the first memories began to assert themselves. “If I am the sole caretaker of my sister and brother, then both of our parents must be dead.”

“You cannot be certain you have understood that single letter correctly. If you handled your father's accounts, it would be your duty to send the money for your siblings' schooling.”

“An abigail would not be involved in such things, would she?”

“I am not assuming anything about your past any longer.” He stood and held out his hand. “Let us get the rest of this greenery strung around the chapel. I am anxious to get back to work on making Theodora's page-turner.”

She looked around as she stood. “It seems as if the work is completed.”

“So there is no need for this length of greenery.” His eyes took on that mischievous twinkle that she adored. “Or is there?”

He looped the run of greens around her. His eyes glittered more brightly than the candles as he stepped nearer. She needed only to edge back, and the greens would shatter, releasing her. She would be free. Free of the verdant bonds, but not free from the longing to stand like this … and closer.

His hands rose, and the backs of his fingers brushed her cheek. She closed her eyes, delighting in the pleasure that she could not believe she once had feared she would have to feign. When had the game become reality? When had the lie evolved into the truth?

The others' voices faded once more until she was certain she could hear Timothy's heartbeat along with her own. When his hand glided along her skin to cup her chin, he tipped her face toward his. In the second before his lips covered hers, he murmured, “You set my soul on fire with your sweet touch. I want you to quench it with your kisses.”

Her answer was silenced by the demand of his lips. As she put her arms around his shoulders, she wondered if she could continue to resist the desires neither of them would be able to control much longer. It was a question she did not think of. At that moment, as he thrilled her with his mouth's fevered caress, she forgot everything but this pleasure she had yearned to sample.

When his tongue delved past her lips and into the hidden delights, she clutched his shoulders, unable to move, unable to think as she struggled against the engulfing tide of rapture. Nothing had warned her of the power of this sorcery that stripped her of all thought.

He released her, and she sagged against him, her breath as uneven as the rapid beat of her heart. When he again put a single fingertip under her chin to tilt her mouth beneath his, she answered his yearning with her own.

Mayhap she was a fool, but she would be one for as long as she could, because, although her heart had changed and now yearned to belong to him, one thing had not changed.

She was not Serenity Adams. When Christmas dawned, this fairy tale of falling in love with the man of her dreams would come to an end.

Fourteen

“Are you ready to leave?”

Timothy looked up from the accounts book that he should have checked two days ago. Odd how when Serenity was about he was not the least interested in the family's enterprises. He had not been able to put the factories and their output from his mind even when he had been sitting with Charlene. It was quite the opposite with Serenity. She did not even need to be in the room for his thoughts to be focused on her beguiling smile or the way her eyes burned with silver fire when she could not govern her emotions.

And when he had drawn her into his arms, those eyes had flashed until he was seared right through to his soul.

“Timothy, are you too busy to join us?”

He let his gaze be caught by those incredible eyes once more as he savored the sight of Serenity standing in the doorway. Her bright red spencer was buttoned to her chin beneath her sedate black cloak. Pale fur edged its hood, brushing her cheeks as he wished his fingers were.

“Us?” he asked.

“Theodora and I are going into the village to watch the mumming play that is to be held on the green this afternoon.”

“Grandfather gave his permission?”

She laughed. “His blessing, to own the truth.”

“Blessing?”

“He said it would be a blessed relief not to have Theodora teasing him about it endlessly.” She smiled. “It seems that she has learned a lot already from other children about how to be a child and get her way.”

“It seems that she has learned a lot about how to beguile a gentleman into giving her what she wants.” Standing, he closed the book. “Your teaching, I assume?”

“Have you found a way to get your new factory back to the schedule you had planned?” she asked, noting the gold letters set into the leather binding:
Cheyney Enterprises
.

He shook his head and took her hand as he led her toward the door. “Not yet.”

“If you must work—”

“I
must
escort you and Theodora to watch the mumming play, or I swear she will tease me until I do so. If she could change Grandfather's mind on this, I stand in awe of her powers of persuasion.” As he closed the door behind them, he brought her to face him. “Although I suspect she had help from another whose powers of persuasion would be enough to turn any man's head, no matter his age.”

“I am glad your grandfather heeded me.”

“As I am.”

When he kissed her lightly before taking her hand again as they walked along the hall, she smiled. She had no idea where this afternoon might lead, but she could not wait to find out.

Serenity took Theodora from her nurse. Nestling her in the blankets on the sleigh's seat, she drew another around her.

“Are you comfortable?” Serenity asked.

“Yes.” Theodora beamed in anticipation.

“Are you warm?”

“Not as warm as Timothy, I collect.”

Serenity glanced at Timothy, who was walking toward them, his heavy coat slapping his boots. When he chuckled, she knew he had heard Theodora's words.

“My heaviest coat,” he said with a grin.

“I am glad to see you have decided to be sensible,” Serenity replied, “rather than fashionable.”

He plucked at the bulky wool. “I despise this coat. It weighs about as much as the curtain wall, and it smells from being in storage.”

“You will appreciate it before the afternoon is over.”

“I hope you are more sure of that than I am.”

“I am,” Serenity said. “That is why I asked Henry to have it ready for you.”

Theodora giggled as Timothy handed Serenity in to sit on one side of her before walking around the sleigh and getting in on the other side. “Are we all set?” the little girl asked.

“As soon as you make a promise to me,” he replied with a grin.

“What promise?”

“You must not tell the mummers if they do something wrong.” He gave her a mock frown as he slapped the reins on the back of the horse.

Theodora laughed again when the sleigh slid with a soft whisper through the snow. “How will I know if they do something wrong? I have never seen them before.”

“Ah, but I know you have convinced Serenity to find you that book with all the pictures showing mumming plays.”

“I read it.” She smiled up at Serenity. “Almost all by myself.”

“
All
by yourself. If that one page had not been ripped and caught on the next page, you would not have needed me to help at all.” Serenity stretched her hand along the back of the seat to put her fingers on Timothy's sleeve. “Your invention works perfectly.”

“I should have thought about doing something like that a long time ago,” he said.

“You should have,” Theodora said in a tone that she had borrowed from her great-grandfather. “But Aunt Ilse said there is no inspiration that works better for a young man than having a beautiful woman by his side.” She paused, then asked, “What was she talking about?”

“Aunt Ilse meant,” Timothy said quietly, “that any man would do anything to win a smile from you or Serenity.”

“Anything?”

He chuckled. “You minx. Almost anything, I should say, before you have me swimming the Channel to bring you something back from Paris.”

“I do not want something from Paris. I want to see the mumming play.”

Serenity smiled at the little girl's certainty, and she smiled even more broadly when they stood together on the green in the midst of the village. The simple houses edging the green were bright with candles that reflected on the strips of paper disguising the mummers. As the men acted out battles, with one falling and being brought back to life by a doctor character, Theodora cheered along with the other children. Even the speeches by the participants, each representing a different historical or legendary character, brought grins from the youngsters. The plays came to an end with a sword dance performed by six men.

Serenity watched, fascinated, as the men began in a circle. The swords were balanced on the men's shoulders, each man holding on to the sword of the man in front of him. As the patterns were created and then taken apart to make new ones, the men continuously held the swords in a steel cat's cradle. Dancing together and apart, they finished all linked together with the swords in a star pattern around the shoulders of one man in the middle. She cheered with the others and wondered how long she had held her breath, fearing that even a single gasp could destroy the perfection.

As they climbed back into the sleigh to return to Cheyney Park, Theodora prattled with excitement, reliving every moment of the play as if neither Timothy nor Serenity had been present. She giggled so hard that half of her words were incomprehensible.

“I think she enjoyed herself,” Serenity said, chuckling as she sat beside Timothy, letting Theodora lean her good arm on the side of the sleigh.

“Proving that you are right once again.” He grinned as he slipped one arm through hers and picked up the reins.

“I am glad I was.”

“So am I.”

She tipped her head to his shoulder as he steered the sleigh out of the village. While he teased Theodora, telling her that he was going to make her a hat covered with strips of paper like the ones the mummers had worn, she closed her eyes and let happiness envelop her. She could imagine few things more wonderful than spending an afternoon with him like this. Her lips tilted in a soft smile. The things she could imagine that would be even more spectacular should not be filling her head, but she could not halt the images of how his eyes closed in the moment before his lips found hers for an eager kiss.

“Look!” cried Theodora.

Serenity raised her head, wishing she could have had a few more moments amidst the pure happiness. “At what?”

“At the window where Aunt Ilse put the tree.”

She could say only “Oh!” as she gazed up at the house on the top of the hill. At a trio of windows, she could see the lights of the candles that had been tied to the branches of the evergreen tree. Through the uneven glass, the light flowed out to mingle with the snow.

“It's beautiful,” Timothy said. “Now I can understand why she was so excited about this.”

“Can I see it up close when we get back?” Theodora asked.

“Of course.” Serenity smiled. “After all, you helped make the fruit strands that—”

The horse shrieked as it rose to two feet. Beside her Timothy cursed, fighting to keep the horse from bolting. Metal screamed even more loudly than the horse. The sleigh shivered.

The horse whinnied again as leather snapped and flew about like a madman's whip. Serenity pulled Theodora closer to her as the sleigh bucked like the horse. She heard Timothy shout something. She did not have time to understand his words as the sleigh tipped wildly to the left. Wanting to grip the seat, she could not. She must not let go of Theodora.

The sleigh slid backward on the hill as the horse broke away. The runner struck a bush. As the sleigh tipped again, it bounced.

Serenity shrieked, but refused to release Theodora. She struck the snow and the rock-hard earth beneath it. In her arms, Theodora moaned, then began to cry. If the child had broken something …

“Theodora! Are you all right?”

The little girl brushed snow out of her eyes. “Is the horse hurt?”

Serenity sat up and lifted Theodora to sit. “The horse should be fine and halfway back to the stables by now. How are you?”

“I bumped my head.”

“I see.” She tipped back the child's hat to discover a ruddy spot the size of her thumb. “Anywhere else?”