A Christmas Bride Part 12

"I have never understood why people who have every other advantage feel it is adequate recompense for a lack of love in their lives."

"You are such a romantic, Serenity."

"I know that I would never settle for less than love."

As his fingertip traced along her cheek to the corner of her lips, he said, "You will make some man very happy when you give him your heart."

"As you would make a woman happy, if you would give your heart." She could not believe they were speaking like this when her heart pounded against her breast, demanding to be heard. She must not heed it and its plea to be offered to him. His words made it clear that he considered the proper wife who would give him the proper heirs more important than love. Through all of this, she could emerge with her heart unscathed only if she guarded it well.

"Charlene Pye was a woman I believed I could be happy with all my days, as I thought she would be happy with me." He sighed and locked his hands behind him. "However, she had no interest in sharing me with anything else."

"What anything else?"

"My work."

She frowned. "Forgive me, Timothy, but what work does a viscount do? I have heard Felix speak of nothing more onerous than deciding which cravat to wear when he goes to the theater or to the card table."

"Do not regale me with your lower-cla.s.s arrogance. What do you know of my life?"

Serenity stared at him in astonishment. He never had spoken to her with such coldness. She had not intended to hurt him with her blunt question, but it seemed she had touched upon something that unsettled him greatly. "Timothy, I-"

"No, you should not apologize." He sighed as he drew her into the parlor where she had been sitting with Aunt Ilse. Closing the door, he said, "I should apologize to you and to my grandfather. You have done all you can to help me, and he wishes only to see me happy and settled with a family of my own. Instead I treat you both as if you are the ones who have created this muddle."

"But what is it that upset you when I asked that question? I did not mean to probe where I should not."

"Why should not you ask anything you wish? I have demanded nothing less of you than to remake yourself in the image of a woman I invented."

She sat on the settee next to Aunt Ilse's paintings. "To be honest, I am grateful for that."

"Really?" He sat beside her. "Why?"

"If I had not been able to become Serenity, I might have been completely lost." She put her hand on his fist, which was balanced on his knee. "Why did you invent Serenity?"

"Because I did not want to be bothered by another fiancee like Charlene Pye. I wanted to be able to concentrate on completing my project." Sliding his other hand over hers, he smiled. "One thing I should tell you, Serenity. I enjoy supervising the building of things."

"I saw that in the nursery."

"What?"

"With the blocks."

He chuckled, the tension leaving his face. "In this case, I was building a factory for one of the textile companies that Grandfather owns. I know a gentleman is supposed to let others deal with such matters, but I like to be part of the creation of something new and wondrous like a factory."

"That would not surprise your grandfather, if you have been this way since you were a child."

"He has been determined that I know a gentleman's duties and obligations."

"But he must have seen how you loved building things with blocks." She smiled gently. "And with clocks." Sympathy rushed through her. Timothy had been so pleased to help with hanging the snowflakes and making the snow den for Theodora. Yet no one in this family considered that gift of good sense as important as finding a suitable wife who would give him sons to continue the family name. No wonder he had created Serenity Adams to placate his grandfather.

"Grandfather knows that I dabble in the work. He does not guess how much time I spend with it." He sighed. "Until now, only Felix knew. Now you do, too."

"Felix knows a lot about you."

"I have seen that you are uncomfortable in his company." When she drew her hand away and stood, he gazed up at her. "I saw as well the peculiar look you had on your face when you met Uncle Arnold."

"He looked familiar to me."

He grasped her hands, folding them between his. "Do you know when you might have seen him?"

"No, and it seems he does not recall me. He said nothing to suggest we had ever met."

"Mayhap he thought you would prefer he not say anything when others were about."

Serenity gasped. "Does he know the truth about this charade?"

"I would not be surprised. Felix and his father are very close."

She put her hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry, Timothy."

"Sorry?" He looked up, amazement widening his eyes.

"It must be difficult for you to see Felix with his father and think about what life would have been like if your father had not died."

"I cannot think of that."

"I would." She rubbed her arms as she crossed the room to look out the window, which was draped in holly. Snow drifted past the gla.s.s, then whirled in a mad dance as the wind gathered it up and tossed it away. "I know how I look at you when you are with your family, and I think of all I have forgotten. My mother died when I was young."

"You remembered that?"

"Yes, just before we came down to greet your uncle. Do I have any family living other than my sister and brother? Mayhap I have cousins, too."

Setting himself on his feet, he put his hand on her shoulder, then raised it to run it gently against her cheek. "I should have considered that, but I have been wrapped up in my own fretting."

"You did consider that. You wrote to London to find out what you could about my brother and sister."

"And heard nothing." He took in a deep breath, then let it slide past his clenched teeth. "I think 'tis time I jostle Ballard's elbow."

"Ballard?"

"My solicitor. 'Tis time to remind him that you are waiting anxiously for any information he might have garnered during his prowls about Town."

"No matter what it is, I shall not leave before your grandfather's party on Christmas Eve."

"As you promised."

"I know I promised, but I wanted to rea.s.sure you on that point." She gave him a weak smile. "My head has been banged up some, but not enough that I would not recall a promise I had made to you."

"I suspect you hold all vows you make most dear."

"Yes." Should she say more? Should she speak of how, when she came down the stairs each morning, she listened for the sound of his voice among all the others? Should she tell him how his touch trilled through her like the first birdsong of spring? "I know how important this is to you."

He turned her slowly to face him. "But do you know how important you are to me through all this?"

A knock on the door halted her answer. Clamping her lips closed before the words could tumble out, she threaded her fingers together in front of her as he went to the door. She heard Theodora's nurse's apology for intruding.

Going to the door, Serenity said, "Tell Theodora we will be there posthaste."

Nurse nodded, her ruddy hair bouncing out of its bun, before she turned and rushed toward Theodora's room.

"We have berry strands to make," Serenity added into the silence that was left behind the nurse. "I do not want to disappoint Theodora by making her wait a moment longer."

"But you will disappoint me?"

She backed away a step from the potent need in his gaze, but b.u.mped into the open door. As he closed the distance between them, she gripped the edge of the door to keep her fingers from sweeping up his arms as she invited him to enfold her to him. "Timothy...."

"Don't tell me you don't understand what I mean," he whispered. "I can see the truth in your eyes that glow like soft pools of a sunlit sky." His hand raised to cup her cheek, then lowered. "And I can see, as well, that you are the wiser of the two of us to know that, if I do not wish to disappoint my grandfather, I must be disappointed."

"Yes." She dared say no more, for the entreaty for him to pull her into his arms burned on her tongue.

"You do not say that you are disappointed as well, sweetheart."

Her fingers tightened on the door at the endearment she longed to believe he meant with sincerity. Quietly she said, "I know what I must do and how I must act if I am to have the life I should after this is over."

"And you are gone away?"

She nodded.

"I don't like to think of that time," he whispered.

"Nor do I, but I must."

With a sigh, he stepped back and held out his hand to her. "Let neither of us think of that now. Let's think only of how many more berries I can string this afternoon than you can."

"Do you really think you can best me in st.i.tching them together, Timothy?" She let her voice lighten and saw his lips tilt in the beginnings of a smile. "You may be able to build a fancy factory, but I must have much more experience than you with a needle."

"Shall we see about that?"

She slipped her hand into his, wondering how anything that should not be could be so wondrous. "Yes, we shall."

Eleven.

"What the ..."

Timothy looked up from where he had been watching Serenity help Theodora thread cranberries and crab apples along a string that reached from her chair nearly to the hearth in Grandfather's favorite reading room. He laughed when the earl wiped spots of juice from his face.

"I thought this was supposed to be dried fruit," Lord Brookindale grumbled.

"Apparently some of it is not totally dry." Timothy handed his grandfather a handkerchief. Sitting back on the floor and picking up his own needle and piece of thread that was almost covered with fruit, he asked, "How long does Aunt Ilse want this strand of dried fruit?"

"She said to fill up all the threads." Serenity turned to look at the lengths of stringed fruit that snaked around the room. "It appears that we are almost finished."

Theodora chuckled as Serenity held a piece of fruit for her to slip the needle through. "That is good, because we are nearly out of fruit."

"Mrs. Gray told me that this last canister was the final one she could spare unless the household wanted to be without fruit for the rest of the winter." Serenity edged the crab apple closer to Theodora's needle. "Watch out for my fingers!"

"I am trying." Theodora giggled.

Timothy glanced at his grandfather as the earl laughed along with the little girl. Serenity might have come into this household as a stranger, but she was showing those who lived here how to be a family. Since Serenity had brought Theodora to join in family events, there had been a return of his grandfather's gentleness that Timothy recalled from his own childhood.

When his grandfather stood, Timothy came to his feet as well. He followed the earl to the other side of the room and nodded when his grandfather held up a bottle of wine. Taking the gla.s.s the earl handed him, he was not surprised when his grandfather said, "You must want to say something very important to me, or you would not have wandered so far from Serenity's side."

"Shall I simply say that I am pleased at how well Serenity has fit into this family?"

"Bah!" Lord Brookindale sniffed his disagreement. "You had no worries about that, for you told me from the onset that she seemed perfect to be your bride."

"Don't confuse optimism with practicality."

"That I would never do, my boy." He sat in a chair near the table where the rest of the bottle of wine waited. Looking back at where Serenity was laughing with Theodora, he added, "Tell me what is truly on your mind."

Timothy wished he could obey that order. Yes, the whole of this was going far better than he had had any reason to expect, but he still wished to be honest with his grandfather about the tale he had spun. Swallowing his sigh before it could betray him, he replied, "I am pleased that Serenity has opened our eyes to Theodora."

"Yes, she has." Lord Brookindale's smile dimmed. "She dares to love that child, no matter the consequences."

"That seems to be her way."

"It is a very special way. I know she suspects that the child has been isolated apurpose, and she is not so wrong." He took a drink of his wine, and Timothy noticed that his hands shook. "From the day Theodora was born, we feared she would not survive for long. I have lost so many of those I have loved that I did not want to love and lose another."

"So you gave her that pretty room to die in to ease your guilt and kept yourself distant?"

He nodded. "This is nothing I am proud of, mind you, but it allowed me to forgive her mother for abandoning her and to forgive myself for doing much the same, even though I made sure she had excellent nurses."

"To own the truth, I thought you were doing the best thing for her."

"Then Serenity arrived, and she tipped everything over and inside out." His smile returned as he raised his gla.s.s toward Timothy. "Your marriage to her will never been serene, but it should be very interesting and most pleasurable. She is clearly a woman of strong pa.s.sions, a woman who matches your stubborn nature."

Timothy could not keep his gaze from going to Serenity. On her knees by Theodora's chair, she smiled warmly as she concentrated on holding the cranberry where the little girl could push the needle into it. Then Serenity helped thrust the needle through and held Theodora's hand while they guided the piece of fruit along the string. He guessed Serenity's fingers must be pocked with marks from the tip of the needle, but she had not complained as she made Theodora a part of whatever Aunt Ilse had planned.

Strong pa.s.sions? That, he believed, was an understatement. Serenity's eyes mirrored her every emotion, each one powerful and a challenge to any man who dared to come close enough to sample them. And sample them was what he wished to do. How she had trembled when he kissed her hand! He longed to hold her in his arms as his lips found hers while she quivered against him.

"A groom-to-be should be besotted with his lady love," Grandfather said with a low rumble of a laugh. "That is why I wanted you to find love instead of dragging you into some silly arranged marriage that would have made you miserable."

"You arranged my parents' marriage, and they were quite happy."