The Theft Before Christmas (10 page)

“I am possessed of some fine sons-in-law.”

She smiled like one who’s drunk too much of the mulled wine. “And my dear Jack is your favorite.”

He bent and whispered in her ear. “He is, but don’t tell anyone.”

 She looked up as Mama’s maid was descending the massive wooden staircase in the old Tudor home. “Here comes Claire. I had her fetch your jewel case from my old room.”

“Please, Claire, just give it to Lord Sidworth,” Daphne said.

When her siblings saw the earl clasping the case close to his breast, they knew it was time for all of them to gather around for the adults’ gift exchange. They dispersed to sit on the profusion of chairs and sofas scattered about the comforting drawing room.

Lord Sidworth rose. “In honor of this being my twenty-fifth Christmas with the finest woman in the kingdom, I wish to present her with a special gift this year.” Beneath bushy brows, his mossy eyes crinkled as he peered at his countess.

Daphne wished that when she was the age of her mother she could look half as lovely. Wearing a pretty blue dress, Lady Sidworth sat regally on a gold Damask sofa, beaming at her husband, her youngest grandson on her lap. For that moment, Daphne thought her every bit as lovely as the Madonna and Child they had recovered at Carlton House.

Lord Sidworth moved to his wife, love shining in his eyes. He came to bow before her and present her with the crimson velvet box.

“It’s so big,” she exclaimed.

“See for yourself,” her husband said, a self-satisfied smile upon his craggy face.

Her blue eyes round with expectation, she opened it and became speechless as those very blue eyes began to pour forth.

“It matches your beautiful eyes,” Lord Sidworth said softly.

Daphne was becoming alarmed because her mother was incapable of speech, but she finally spoke.

“I declare, Siddy, not even the queen owns anything so spectacular.”

“You are my queen,” he said, his voice full of emotion. "Allow me to put the necklace on my beautiful wife."

Daphne turned to Jack, who sat beside her on the sofa opposite her mother. He squeezed her hand and whispered, “As you, my vixen, are my queen.”

“And you are and always have been my Captain Sublime.” She looked up once more at Mama’s maid and nodded. She came to them, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small box. Daphne took it.

“Before I give you my gift, dearest, I must remind you that you once asked for- - -“

His handsome face brightened. “Your miniature!”

She was incredibly thankful he remembered. “You kept commenting on it when you returned from Brighton.”

He lifted her hand and kissed it. “It was a beastly separation.”

He took the box, opened it, and looked as tenderly upon it as Lady Sidworth had at her nearly priceless sapphires.

“The artist suggested I remove my spectacles, but I told him my husband insisted that he liked me in them, though I don’t see how you possibly could.”

“Have I not always been truthful with you?”

She nodded. “You’re always truthful with everyone.”

He took her miniature from the box and held it in his hand. It looked much smaller in his big hand than it had in hers. He kept looking at it. “It’s the most precious gift I’ve ever received.”

She didn’t care that the room was filled with people, including the shy maiden, Miss Huntington. She couldn’t keep herself from kissing her husband right there.

Poor Jack looked exceedingly embarrassed.

While the rest of her family exchanged presents, she got up and went to get her gift for Miss Huntington.

“Lady Daphne, you shouldn't have!” she said as Daphne handed her a gift.

“Everybody’s been talking about this book,” Daphne said.

Miss Huntington opened it. “Oh!
Pride & Prejudice
! I wanted it ever so much! Thank you very kindly, Lady Daphne.”

Lady Sidworth, too, came to present Miss Huntington with a gift. "Oh, Lady Sidworth, you look ever so beautiful in your new necklace."

Daphne agreed. "Papa outdid himself. It truly is stunning."

"I've never in my life been more surprised," Lady Sidworth said. "I shall have to be the best of wives now."

"You already are," Daphne said.

Lady Sidworth handed a lovely colored box to Miss Huntington. “I was so happy when I learned you’d be spending Christmas with us, Miss Huntington. I’ve gotten you the same gift I got each of my daughters.”

Miss Huntington lifted the lid from the box and exclaimed. “Oh, these are much too dear!”

“Pshew! I had our dear friend with the East India Company bring me a dozen when he returned from India in March.”

Daphne lacked interest in clothes, but even she admired these Kashmir shawls for their incredible softness and was delighted that she too would be getting one.

Miss Huntington cast a self-conscious look at the colonel. “This has been one of my happiest Christmases ever, even though my family is far away.”

“That makes us very happy, dear,” Lady Sidworth said.

Daphne realized Miss Huntington's self-conscious look at the colonel was because she was getting the gifts, and they had nothing for him—not knowing that he would be spending Christmas with them. Which made her feel beastly.

After the presents were exchanged, Jack suggested he and Daphne and the colonel and Miss Huntington take a sleigh ride before turning in for the night.

Miss Huntington’s face went from somber to radiant. “I should love to above all things.” She stood. “I’ll just go fetch my cloak.”

“I’ll get mine, too,” the colonel said. “Don’t forget your fur muff,” he said to Miss Huntington. "It’s beastly cold out there.”

Once Jack and Daphne were in her old bedchamber, they tenderly kissed before gathering their warm outer clothing. “Has it not struck you," Jack said, “that there may be a flirtation between Miss Huntington and the colonel?”

Daphne whirled around, her mouth gaping open. “Why, he’s old enough to be her father. And, besides, men don’t take notice of women who look like her. She has the same physical deficiency as me.”

A wicked gleam flashed in Jack’s eyes. “I hadn’t noticed that Miss Huntington needed spectacles.”

She gave him a mock glare, her eyes sparkling. “I’m referring to my lack of bosom, you goose.”

“I assure you, to a man in love such a so-called deficiency is insignificant.”

She stepped into his arms for another sweet kiss. “So it is.” How blessed she was to have won Jack’s love.

“I’ve seen a change in Miss Huntington, too, when she’s with the colonel," Jack said. "I believe she doesn’t care if he’s so many years older than her.”

“How could I have missed this?”

“Because you’re not possessed of a romantic nature.”

She nodded. “There is that. I was supposed to be the son Papa never got.”

He drew her into his arms one last time. “I’m gratified that you were
not
a son.”

“We must hurry. They’ll be waiting for us. Oh, dearest, there must be some way we can push them together. Permanently.”

Jack merely shrugged.

* * *

In spite of the fact it was one of the coldest nights to which he’d ever been exposed and they sat in an open sleigh with cold winds making it nearly impossible to get warm, Colonel Bond couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. The rug which covered his and Miss Huntington’s laps offered some warmth—which was more than he could say for his fine lambskin gloves. His hands were bloody cold.

Captain Dryden and his bride, cozying up together across from the colonel and Miss Huntington, couldn’t have looked happier were they speeding along on a spring day. How fortunate they were to have one another.

Unlike him. He would likely go to his grave a lonely old man.

Lady Daphne then directed her attention at Miss Huntington. “Mama tells me she received a letter from your mother in which she expressed her desire to have you come immediately to St. Petersburg.”

The colonel felt as if he’d been felled by a musket ball. He whirled toward his young companion.

Her face looked as stricken as he was.

“Oh dear,” Lady Daphne said. “I take it you are not pleased with that intelligence.”

Poor Miss Huntington’s lashes lowered. “I cannot say that I’m surprised.”

The colonel felt compelled to change the subject in an effort to prevent the dear lady from collapsing into tears. “It was very kind, Lady Daphne, for your parents to open up their lovely home to us for Christmas. It’s quite the largest home where I’ve ever been a guest. Pray, how many chambers have you?”

Lady Daphne shrugged. “We tried counting once, but stopped at two hundred because we were unable to determine if we’d started double counting. I will own, that’s a great many rooms.”

They sped along the now-white parkland of Addersley, the only sound the sleigh’s blades slicing into the icy snow or the splat of heavy tree branches spilling their excess snow.

“It’s beastly cold,” the captain finally said.

“I’m enjoying it excessively,” Miss Huntington said. “But my muff wonderfully warms my hands.”

All eyes went to her huge fur muff.

She faced him. “There’s plenty of room in it. Will you not share my muff?”

“Oh, I couldn’t.”

“Does that mean your hands are warm?” Miss Huntington challenged.

“I would be lying if I said they were.”

“You don’t have to be gallant for my sake,” she said. “You’ve already proven your gallantry most thoroughly.”

“Don’t be so foolish,” Lady Daphne scolded him. “You can see there’s plenty of room in her muff for your hands.”

“Suppose I am being pigheaded,” the colonel said.

Miss Huntington moved a bit closer to him and settled half her massive muff on his lap. He inserted his hands and experienced instant relief. He turned to her. “Thank you. You have greatly contributed to my comfort.”

Her dainty, gloved hand caressed his. "It’s my pleasure, my dear Colonel.”

They continued to hold hands. It affected him more provocatively than the most sensuous, scantily clad Arabian dancer ever had.

This was vastly different, too. While Miss Huntington definitely awakened him physically, the feelings she elicited in him encompassed his mind and heart. What he felt for her was pure. She was the one he wanted to protect with his very life. She was the one whose well-being mattered more to him than even his previously all-important career. She was the one he wanted to see across the breakfast table from him for the rest of his days.

By Jove, he was in love with her!

And that realization made him feel even more like a youth bubbling with his first awakening to love.

Lady Daphne directed their driver to take them to the stables, and when they arrived there, she said, “You two finally look warm. I shan’t want you to get up, but I wish to show Jack the new foal. We’ll probably be away for five minutes.” She and Jack climbed from the open sleigh. “Stay warm,” she told them.

The colonel turned to the woman he's fallen in love with. “I was very sorry, Miss Huntington, to learn you’ll be going to St. Petersburg.”

She squeezed his hand again. God in heaven, did the lady have any idea what she was doing to him? “I shall miss you, Colonel.”

His heartbeat roared. “I suppose you think of me as a father figure.” He drew in his breath as he awaited her response.

“While I look up to you, I do
not
think of you as a father.”

Dare he hope? “Do you think . . . when you marry. . . that fortunate man might be . . . older?”

The precious little flirt squeezed his hand again! “I would hope to.”

He withdrew his hands from the muff, drew her into his arms, and tenderly settled his lips upon hers. After the kiss, he held her close and murmured, “I would be the happiest man in the three kingdoms if you would consent to be my wife.” He already was the happiest man in the three kingdoms.

“I am the happiest woman in the three kingdoms.” She reached up to stroke his face. “I love you.”

His pulse stampeded. “As I love you, my dearest Charlotte.”

They were kissing once again when the Drydens returned to the sleigh.

“Please tell me you wish to make an announcement,” Daphne said as she settled in the seat opposite the newly betrothed couple.

Miss Huntington actually giggled. And he did not mind in the least that this young woman who had so honored him was giggling. “Hugh has done me the honor of asking for my hand in marriage.”

Hugh? He wasn’t even aware his Charlotte knew his first name.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” Lady Daphne said.

He thoroughly agreed.

* * *

Later that night, in his wife’s old bedchamber where they stood before the window and peered at the white landscape stretching as far as they could see. Jack drew her into his arms. “So now, Crafty Lady, you’ve added matchmaker to your list of skills.”

“I regret to say my skills in that area need improving. I never even suspected those two were falling in love.”

“But once I pointed it out, you employed one of your most proficient skills.”

She looked up into his face. “Which is?”

“How to put this delicately? Your ability to . . . to tell harmless, little white lies.”

She sighed. “I suppose I am most proficient at that.”

“Will you tell them there was no foal, that you merely wanted them to be alone for a few moments?”

“I haven’t decided.”

He looked askance at her. “And did your mother really receive a letter from Mrs. Huntington?”

She shook her head. “It was a brilliant stroke on my part, do you not agree?”

“Yes. My wife is the most brilliant of liars.” He released her. “Allow me to fetch your Christmas gift, my love. Next to the spectacular necklace your father presented your mother, I fear my offering will look awfully meager." He swallowed. “But it is most precious to me because it belonged to my mother.”

He pulled a blue velvet box from a dresser drawer and handed it her.

She opened it, and just as her mother had done earlier that evening, Daphne’s eyes watered. “Your mother’s pearls! They are beautiful.” As she looked up at him, a tear slid down her check. “It means more to me than any of my possessions, save my wedding ring.”