A Wallflower Christmas (Wallflowers #5)(26)

“Yes!” said the child, brimful of glee. “Home, for good and all…Father is so much kinder than he used to be, that home’s like Heaven! He spoke so gently to me one dear night when I was going to bed, that I was not afraid to ask him once more if you might come home; and he said Yes, you should; and sent me in a coach to bring you …”

Becoming aware of their presence in the doorway, Hannah glanced up briefly. She flashed a quick smile at Natalie. But her expression was more guarded as she looked at Rafe. Returning her attention to the book, she continued to read.

Rafe was aware of that same warm, curious pull he felt every time he was near Hannah. She looked adorably rumpled, sitting in the large chair with one slippered foot drawn up beneath her. He wanted to play with her, kiss her, pull that shiny hair down and comb his fingers through it.

“Let’s leave,” Natalie whispered beside him.

Rafe felt a mild sting of annoyance. Natalie wanted to go somewhere else and continue their earlier conversation, and flirt, and perhaps have a taste of the adult pleasures that were so new to her, and so damnably familiar to him.

“Let’s listen for a moment,” he murmured, guiding her into the room.

Natalie was too clever to show her impatience. “Of course,” she returned, and went to arrange herself gracefully in the unoccupied chair by the hearth. Rafe stood at the mantel, leaned a shoulder against it, and glued his gaze to Hannah as the story continued.

Scrooge witnessed more from his past, including the merry Fezziwig ball. A mournful scene followed, in which he was confronted by a young woman who had loved him but was now accepting that his desire for riches had surpassed all else.

” …if you were free to-day, to-morrow, yesterday, can even I believe that you would choose a dowerless girl…choosing her, if for a moment you were false enough to your one guiding principle to do so, do I not know that your repentance and regret would surely follow? I do; and I release you. With a full heart, for the love of him you once were …” “Spirit!” said Scrooge in a broken voice, “remove me from this place.”

Rafe disliked sentiment. He had seen and experienced enough of the world to resist the pull of maudlin stories. But as he stood listening to Hannah, he felt unaccountable heat spreading through him, and it had nothing to do with the crackling fire in the hearth. Hannah read the Christmas story with an innocent conviction and pleasure that was too genuine for him to resist. He wanted to be alone with her and listen to her low, charming voice for hours. He wanted to lay his head in her lap until he could feel the curve of her thigh against his cheek.

As Rafe stared at her, he felt the quickening of arousal, the rising warmth of tenderness, and an ache of yearning. A terrible thought had sprung to his mind, the wish that she were Bland-ford’s daughter instead of Natalie. Sweet God, he would have married her on the spot. But that was impossible, not to mention unfair to Natalie. And thinking it made him feel every bit the cad that Hannah had accused him of being.

As Hannah finished the second chapter, and laughingly promised the clamoring children that she would read more the following night, Rafe made an unselfish wish for someone else for the first time in his life…that Hannah would someday find a man who would love her.

AFTER PRAISING THE SINGERS AND MUSICIANS FOR THEIR FINE performance, and leading a group of ladies into the parlor for tea, Lillian returned to the drawing room. Some of the guests were still congregated there, including her husband, who stood in the corner speaking privately with Eleanor, Lady Kittridge.

Trying to ignore the cold needling in her stomach, Lillian went to Daisy, who had just finished talking with some of the children. “Hello, dear,” Lillian said, forcing a smile. “Did you enjoy the music?”

“Yes, very much.” Staring into her face, Daisy asked bluntly, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter. Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”

“Whenever you smile like that, you’re either worried about something, or you’ve just stepped in something.”

“I haven’t stepped in anything.”

Daisy regarded her with concern. “What is it, then?”

“Do you see that woman Westcliff is talking to?”

“The beautiful blond one with the smashing figure?”

“Yes,” came Lillian’s sour reply.

Daisy waited patiently. “

I suspect …” Lillian began, and was startled to feel her throat closing and a hot pressure accumulate behind her eyes. Her suspicion was too awful to voice.

Her husband was interested in another woman.

Not that anything would come of it, because Westcliff was a man of absolute honor. It was simply not in him ever to betray his wife, no matter how acute the temptation. Lillian knew that he would always be faithful to her, at least physically. But she wanted his heart, all of it, and to see the signs of his attraction to someone else made Lillian want to die.

Everyone had said from the beginning that the earl of West-cliff and a brash American heiress were the most improbable pairing imaginable. But before long Lillian had discovered that beneath Marcus’s outward reserve, there was a man of passion, tenderness, and humor. And for his part, Marcus had seemed to enjoy her irreverence and high-spirited nature. The past two years of marriage had been more wonderful than Lillian could have ever dreamed.

But lately Westcliff had started paying marked attention to Lady Kittridge, a gorgeous young widow who had everything in common with him. She was elegant, aristocratic, intelligent, and to top it all off, she was a remarkable horse-woman who was known for carrying on her late husband’s passion for horse breeding. The horses from the Kittridge stables were the most beautiful descendants of the world’s finest Arabians, with an amiable sweetness of character and spectacular conformation. Lady Kittridge was the perfect woman for Westcliff.