Enchanted at Christmas (Christmas at Castle Keyvnor Book 2) Read online

  “I don’t want to rush things. I want to know you, to understand you, to understand what the devil has been happening to the both of us over the last few days. I only want to talk, but I want to be in private.” He took a deep breath, his brow furrowed. “May I take you to my chambers?”

  A heat that started in her cheeks made its way through her body, warming her outside and in, and setting her heart to a dangerous patter. She ought to have been frightened – she spent the last several years being terrified of men. But she knew there was nothing to be terrified of anymore. Not with him. Not Ethan.

  “I’m sorry,” he said when she didn’t answer right away. “That was inappropriate of me. Please, forget I suggested it.”

  Angel gave a little laugh as she placed her hands on his chest. It was too soon to be so familiar, and yet, it felt so right to have her hands on him, to be this close to him. “I would rather not forget it, if that’s all right.”

  “Are you certain?” he pressed.

  “I’ve never been so sure of something in my entire life.”

  With that, he leaned toward her until their lips met. She’d been kissed before, in a most unpleasant manner. This didn’t resemble that time at all. It was new and wonderful and everything a first kiss should be. His lips were soft, but coaxing, every stroke lulling her into a state more magical than anything she’d felt on the beach that morning.

  Voices from around the corner prompted him to pull away, but he wore a smile that said he was just as bewitched as she was by the kiss they’d just shared.

  “Come,” he said, grabbing her hand again and pulling her toward the back staircase. As they reached the landing, he stopped again. “On second thought,” he began, turning to face her. “Perhaps we should go to your chambers instead.”

  “Oh?”

  He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “There are likely to be interruptions if we go to mine.”

  Angel wasn’t certain what they were going to be doing, but she was sure they didn’t want to be interrupted. Not after all they’d been through to finally be alone together. “This way,” she said, this time grabbing his hand and leading him toward her modest chamber.

  Betsy had clearly stoked the fire recently, and left the bed covers turned down. Angel wasn’t certain what the duke’s chambers were like, but she was almost certain her chamber was cozier. It made her think of home – the cozy cottage she shared with her aunts. She came from such modesty – in addition to eccentricity – that she wondered how on earth she and Ethan would suit. They were from vastly different worlds, and they barely knew each other. Part of her wondered what on earth she was thinking.

  But then she turned to find him standing near the door – now shut and locked behind them – and she knew she was exactly where she was supposed to be, with the person she was meant to be with. The ritual that morning had been enlightening, to say the least. It had given her the power to heal others, but also the power to heal herself. She was stronger than she thought she was, and now she had the confidence to say so. Looking at him, so handsome in the firelight, his blue eyes boring through her with the heat of a thousand suns, she knew without a doubt that they would be happy together. Whatever challenges they would face in the coming days, adjusting to one another’s families and ways of life, they would conquer them together.

  After what felt like an eternity of standing there, staring at one another, they moved simultaneously toward each other until their bodies collided and their lips pressed together in a searing kiss.

  Everything moved too quickly and too slowly all at once. In mere moments, her gown was in a puddle about her feet, his cravat and shirt meeting with similar fates. Angel pressed her hands to his bare chest. It was smooth in texture, but firm, and muscular. He tensed beneath her touch as he sucked in a sharp breath.

  “My darling Angel.” He gabbed both her hands in his and pressed them to his lips. “We are supposed to be getting to know one another.”

  Angel couldn’t explain what came over her. She barely recognized her own voice as she said, “What better way to get to know one another?” And then she pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his again.

  The ritual that morning had not only bolstered her confidence, but it had heightened her senses as well. Every touch, every taste, every sound was intensified. She could feel her blood coursing through her veins, hear her heart beating loudly in her ears as Ethan showed her more magic than she’d ever known could exist in this world. It was heaven on earth. And then she erupted, like a volcano under too much pressure. Waves of ecstasy crashed through her, making her cry out, but Ethan smothered her cries with a kiss. He was probably right for doing so – who knew who might be able to hear them from outside the door? But she couldn’t really bring herself to care just then.

  The kiss deepened as his rhythm grew quicker, more frantic, until he groaned with his own release. It made Angel feel powerful and wanton and like the witch she’d been raised to be.

  Ethan pressed his forehead to hers. They were both smiling through belabored breaths. The air was cool around them, but his body was so warm against hers. Angel was certain that nothing in her life would ever compare to this moment.

  “We were only supposed to talk,” she teased, as he rolled to her side and drew her close, so her back was against him.

  “We could talk now,” he said, but then he lifted her hair, presumably to move it out of the way, and they both stilled.

  Angel swallowed, knowing he’d seen it, and terrified of what he’d say when she told him about the tattoo she wore. But he surprised her by saying absolutely nothing. Instead, he leaned forward and placed a kiss upon her mark, before nestling down again.

  Tears welled in Angel’s eyes, but she blinked them back and tried to keep her breathing steady. One day she would tell him about it of her own accord, but he wasn’t going to ask. That meant the world to Angel.

  Chapter 18

  Ethan was woken out of the most glorious sleep he’d ever had by a frantic knock on the door. It took him a moment to realize Angel was nuzzled against him, and then all the events of the evening came rushing back to him. He smiled, just before the person knocked again. Damn.

  “Angel,” he whispered, kissing her on the forehead and simultaneously breathing in the gentle, earthy scent of her. “Angel darling, someone is at the door.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath at the same moment her eyes popped open. The sun streamed in from the singular window, illuminating her bright, green eyes, and making Ethan wish the person outside would go away.

  “Don’t worry,” he told her. “I will get rid of whoever it is.” He pushed up to his elbow. “Go away!”

  “Your Grace?”

  Blast. It was Stephen again. How had he known where to find him?

  “Your Grace, there’s been another incident.”

  The man’s words had Ethan on edge and out of bed in an instant. “Dammit, Ivy,” he muttered, certain his sister had tried to do too much in her state and had probably taken a fall or burnt the west wing down, or something of the sort.

  “What’s happened now?” he demanded of the footman as he swung open the door.

  Stephen averted his eyes, and for good reason. Ethan was fully nude.

  “I’m sorry, Your Grace, but Lord Michael Beck has been stabbed.”

  “Stabbed?” Good God. Who in the world would want to stab Lord Michael?

  Actually, now he thought about it, possibly a good many people. There was a rumor going about that he had been trying to collect gambling winnings all week. Perhaps someone wasn’t too keen to pay up.

  “Your sister is with him now…in her chambers.”

  Ethan wasn’t certain if that meant they’d spent the night together, but either way, she’d have no choice but to accept Lord Michael’s suit now. If he survived this incident, that was. “Tell them I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  He shut the door on the footman, and turned to find Angel sitting up in bed,
the sheet pulled up to her neck, her green eyes wide with concern. “Ethan?” she asked.

  “I will return as soon as I am able,” he promised, coming to the side of the bed. He took her hand, which caused the sheet to fall a bit on one side, revealing just enough of her breast to spark his ardor. His burgeoning manhood drew her attention, and she licked her soft pink lips. Damn whoever had stabbed Lord Michael! Damn them straight to Hell!

  But then she took a deep breath, and shifted her focus to his face once again. “I am coming with you.” She moved to get out of bed, but he gently pushed her back down into the pillows.

  “That isn’t necessary.”

  She stared up at him, her jaw set in defiance. “If someone is hurt, I need to be there.”

  “I’m sure the doctor will be along soon.”

  “But the doctor can’t do what I can do.”

  Ethan stilled and furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

  Angel smiled at him, lighting his heart and causing him to curse the stabber once again. “There isn’t time to explain,” she said. “Please. Just let me come with you and I will tell you everything later, when we return here.”

  He leaned in to deliver a quick kiss to her soft, pink lips. “That moment can’t come soon enough.”

  They helped one another dress as quickly as they could and then raced through the corridors to Ivy’s chambers. The scene was as Stephen had said – Lord Michael was stabbed, and Ivy was at his side.

  “Oh, Ethan!” Ivy cried when she saw him. “It’s just awful!”

  Ethan approached the bed. Michael was pale and clearly in a great deal of pain, his face in a perpetual grimace. “Indeed. The doctor will be here soon, Beck. Hold on, my good man.”

  Beck nodded and shut his eyes tightly. Ethan turned to find Angel not far behind him, a question in her eyes. Ethan didn’t know what exactly the question was, but it was clear she was awaiting his approval. He would approve anything that had a chance of easing Beck’s pain, and subsequently Ivy’s. His poor sister was in quite a state. The way a woman who was in love with a man would react in such a situation. Perhaps she was planning to accept the future-tradesman’s suit after all.

  He sent a slight nod to Angel, then she closed her eyes and dropped her arms to her sides, turning her palms out. When she sucked in a deep breath, a gust of wind coursed through the room, lifting her hair and skirts for but a moment before all went quiet again.

  Ethan turned back to Beck, who had stopped his groaning and wincing, and now slept peacefully, his breathing steady and even. Ivy, who had been hunched over the bed, holding tightly to Beck’s hand, slowly sat up, her eyes focused on her suitor – her future.

  “Michael?” she whispered.

  “He’s resting now,” Angel said, stepping forward.

  Ivy turned to Angel with tear-stained cheeks and wide eyes. She looked from Angel to Ethan and back again. “Who are you?” The question was blunt but not rude, just curious.

  “Ivy, this is Miss Angel Quinn,” he said. “Your future sister-in-law.”

  This would come as quite a shock to his sister, of course, but he wanted to know what Angel thought of his declaration. Relief flooded him when, after a long moment, Angel graced him with a wide smile. Her eyes shimmered with tears, and he wanted desperately to go to her – to ask properly if she would be his wife – but Ivy got in the way of that for the moment.

  “Sister-in-law?” she gasped. “Ethan, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t know myself until this morning,” he admitted.

  Ivy dropped Beck’s hand, leaped from her chair, and then hobbled past Ethan to envelope Angel in her embrace. “Oh, you don’t know how happy this makes me,” she cried. “And I don’t even know you!”

  There was much laughter. An air of serenity engulfed the room, and Ethan’s heart. Life was not without its challenges, but on this beautiful Christmas morn, Ethan knew that all was well in his world.

  “Christmas,” he said, realization dawning.

  Angel and Ivy turned to him.

  “It is Christmas morning!” he clarified.

  Angel smiled at him, but Ivy only stood there, dumbfounded. “You will have to forgive me, Miss Quinn,” she said. “I fear my brother’s body has been inhabited by a much cheerier, much more agreeable ghost.”

  Ethan shook his head, his gaze and his smile just for his bride-to-be. “Not a ghost, my dear Ivy. An angel.”

  Epilogue

  Angel spent the entire carriage ride back to Mousehole trying to warn Ethan of her eccentric aunts. She was terrified he’d climb right back into his carriage and demand the driver go as fast as the horses would allow once he’d met Tilly and Agnes. But he assured her, over and over, between kisses, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Agnes, come quickly!” She heard her aunt yelling before the carriage even came to stop, and when she peeked out, she saw them both running from the house. Tilly’s red curls were bouncing with every step and Agnes’ dark hair danced erratically in the wind. But both their faces were beaming with excitement.

  Angel turned to Ethan. “Are you sure you’re ready to meet them? We’ve barely had a chance to get to know one another yet.”

  “What better way to get to know you than through the women who raised you?” he replied. And then he leaned forward to plant a tiny kiss on her nose.

  She still wasn’t certain about this, but she had no choice now. Her aunts had descended upon the carriage already. When the door flung open, their bright expressions shifted immediately to shock. Aunt Tilly clutched a hand to her chest and Aunt Agnes simply stood there, her mouth agape.

  “Happy Christmas, Aunts!” Angel said, trying to keep the mood light.

  Not that she needed to. Once they got over their initial shock, her aunts began to dance about the garden, singing and laughing about the fact that Angel had brought home a man, and a handsome one at that.

  Angel and Ethan stood on the walk, just outside the garden gate, waiting for her aunts to calm down. Angel couldn’t even look at Ethan. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed of her aunts, but, well…Ethan was a duke. He was not accustomed to the oddities of her relatives.

  But then his fingers touched hers, and he engulfed her hand in his. She finally dared to glance at him, only to find that he was smiling at the spectacle in the garden.

  “I tried to warn you,” she said.

  “Nothing could have prepared me for this,” he replied.

  She gulped and faced forward again. He was going to leave. They were finished before they’d even begun.

  “I have never been so happy in all my life.”

  Angel stilled. Had she heard him correctly? “I beg your pardon?”

  He finally pulled his gaze away from her dancing aunts and turned to face Angel. He took both her hands in his and brought them to his lips, where he placed a kiss to each one. “I have spent my life being responsible and dutiful, following all the rules and doing exactly what was expected of me…but I can’t think of one time in my life where I laughed too hard or smiled until my jaw ached.” His storm-blue eyes bore into hers, lighting her heart and bringing a lump to her throat. “I don’t plan to stop being responsible and dutiful – after all, I will have a wife and children to care for soon – but I want to live, Angel. I want to laugh. I want to be merry.”

  “I don’t know how any future Christmases will ever live up to this one,” she whispered.

  He smiled at her and then leaned in to plant a sweet, tender kiss to her lips. “Happy Christmas, my Angel,” he murmured as he pulled away.

  Angel thought she might float away on her cloud of joy. “Happy Christmas, Ethan.”

  About Jerrica Knight-Catania

  USA Today Best Selling Author, Jerrica Knight-Catania, knew from an early age that she was destined for romance. She would spend hours as a young girl sitting in a chair by an open window, listening to the rain, and dreaming of the day Prince Charming would burst in and declare his undying lov
e for her. But it wasn't until she was 28-years-old, tired of her life in the theater, that she turned her focus toward writing Regency Romance novels. All her dreaming paid off, and she now gets to relive those romantic scenes she'd dreamt up as a child as she commits them to paper. She lives in sunny Palm Beach with her real life Prince Charming, their Princess-in-training and their aristocat, Dr. Snuggle.

  Visit Jerrica's official website to learn more about her other books, the Wetherby family and to see what's new in her writing world!

  Connect With Jerrica

  www.JerricasPlace.com

  Lady Rose and Lord Snow

  Claudia Dain

  Chapter 1

  The Earl of Snowingham was going to a wedding. He was not attending the Christmas wedding of two of the Earl of Banfield’s daughters because he was a romantic. He was not traveling to western Cornwall, at one of the most inconvenient times of the year for travel, because he was looking for a bride of his own among the many guests. He was not facing a trip on muddy, frozen, sloppy roads because he had nothing better to do.

  The Earl of Snowingham was going to the wedding because he was, above all else, a man of swift and decisive action.

  It was his grandmother who was the romantic.

  “I met your grandfather at a wedding, did you know that?” she asked.

  “You may have mentioned it, yes,” he said. Mentioned it two or three hundred times, in fact.

  “It is your duty to marry, Charles,” Pammie said, tapping the point of her cane into the deep carpeting beneath her feet. The thick pile blunted the dramatic effect. Pammie was always very dramatic. Being eighty years old had not diminished that about her so far as he could tell. “The bloodline must not die out.”

  “I am aware,” he said. “I shall do my duty.”