A Christmas Secret (Scandals & Secrets 4.5)

  A Christmas Secret

  Scandals & Secrets - Book 4.5

  Janelle Daniels

  Dream Cache Publishing

  Contents

  Copyright

  Summary

  Dedication

  1. A Christmas Secret

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  Titles by Janelle Daniels

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  A CHRISTMAS SECRET

  Dream Cache Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  www.janelledaniels.com

  Copyright © 2015 by Janelle Daniels

  Cover Art © 2015 Creative Book Covers

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Miss Rosalie Winthrop has secretly been in love with Viscount Gloucher since they met. The problem: he only thinks of her as a friend. Or so she thinks.

  After years of frustration, Lord Harold Emmorey, Viscount Gloucher, is determined to propose to the woman who stole his heart years ago. But without any indication that she’s interested in more than just friendship, Harry isn’t sure his offer will be accepted.

  As the clock ticks down before Christmas, Harry and Rosalie must risk their friendship in hope of obtaining what their hearts desire.

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  A Christmas Secret

  Everyone knew the Father Christmas activity at the Weston’s annual party was just another attempt to throw together unmarried ladies with reluctant, single gentlemen. That suited Lord Harold Emmorey, Viscount Gloucher, just fine. In fact, he was counting on being paired with one woman in particular.

  He glanced over the ladies and gentlemen assembled in the parlor, separated on different side of the room until their names were drawn. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, adding warmth and atmosphere to an already festive occasion. The room filled with excited chatter as each person anxiously awaited the name of whom they’d be matched with for the rest of the day. At this magical time of year, anything was possible. Plans were hatched; affairs were launched.

  Proposals were accepted.

  Harry’s heart thumped hard as he felt the weight of the sapphire and diamond engagement ring in his pocket. His eyes automatically drew to the one woman he’d come to the party for.

  Miss Rosalie Winthrop.

  Meeting his eye from across the room, she gave him a quick wink and mouthed good luck.

  He smiled back and nodded. If only she knew who he was here for. This was the first and only time he’d participated in such a setup, but he didn’t plan to leave the choosing of his partner up to chance.

  He and Rosalie had been thrown together at balls and parties for years, politely dancing with one another. But that stiffness hadn’t lasted. They were too much alike, too open for confined, polite conversation, and Harry quickly realized he looked forward to seeing her more than anyone else at such affairs.

  After his friend, Lord Quinton Devericks, his wife, Lady Sera, and their children had permanently moved to their country estate, Harry was surprised how easily Rosalie had filled the gap Quinton left. She was his best friend, even if society dictated the activities they could engage in because of her unmarried status.

  Although Harry had always been attracted to her, his desire for her had flared to uncontrollable portions in the last six months. Well beyond what was appropriate for a purely platonic relationship.

  He wasn’t the type of man to sit around and wait for things to happen, but with no indication of Rosalie’s feelings, he hesitated to press for something that could ruin their friendship.

  Until now.

  He couldn’t fight it anymore. If she rejected him, she rejected him. And if she did, he’d have to figure out some way to smooth it over, because he couldn’t imagine living his life without her. Even if it killed him, he’d remain her friend.

  But he couldn’t hold off not knowing any longer.

  Lady Weston maneuvered her generous form in front of the group, her full cheeks turning rosy as she smiled kindly at her audience. “Thank you all for joining us this evening. As you all know, the Father Christmas activity has become a tradition at Weston Manor. Couples are paired together, one lady and one gentleman.”

  She winked and the group chuckled at the jest. “I will assign each couple a name of someone else at the party, someone not in this room, and the couple will become that person’s secret Father Christmas. You may surprise them with a gift, an act of kindness, or anything else that falls in line with the spirit of Christmas. You’ll have until midnight tonight. Now,” she grinned widely at the group as if she knew this is what they’d all waited for, “we’ll commence with the drawing of the names. And since I was accused of tampering with the pairings last year,” she drawled, “I’d like to ask Viscount Gloucher if he’d do the honor of selecting the couples.”

  A few hoots echoed in the air, and Harry grinned. Exactly as planned. “Of course.”

  He walked up in front of the group, but didn’t dare glance in Rosalie’s direction. He’d never be able to pull this off if he looked at her now.

  Lady Weston handed him two new felt top hats, and he briefly wondered if he’d be caught manipulating the drawing. The folded slips of paper he spied in each hat contained all the names of those present. He’d have to be tricky.

  With a mischievous grin to the group, he stirred the names in the first hat like a witch brewing a potion. “Let’s see who’s first.” He pulled out the first slip. “Lord Bartholomew and,” he mixed the other hat before pulling out another paper, “Lady Caroline.”

  Applause sounded in the room as he called each subsequent couple. The duos clustered around the edges of the room, laughing when only Rosalie and himself were left unmatched.

  “And I guess that leaves Miss Winthrop and myself.” He tamped down the triumph he felt and quickly dumped all the scraps of paper into one hat. No one would ever suspect he’d lied about each and every pairing, maneuvering things so he and Rosalie would be called last.

  Once the cheers subsided, he glanced again at Rosalie and the bright smile on her face. He walked to her and pulled her to the side of the room for a moment of privacy as Lady Weston discreetly assigned each couple their Father Christmas recipient.

  Harry closed his eyes as Rosalie’s hand brushed his arm, the sweet smell of apples and cinnamon from one of the holiday treats she’d eaten earlier mingled with the soft lavender scent she must add to her bath.

  To be this close to her, to see the sparkle in her lively green eyes, to hear her voice, to divine glimpses of her soul as she spoke, was almost too much to bear. His fingers itched to hold her against him, to touch her, to know the taste of her, to make sure she knew that he valued no one above her.

  How could she not see it? At times, he thought he’d choke from the strong emotions she evoked in him. How she had never guessed was beyond him.

  Or perhaps, she had. And ignored it. He cleared his throat. “Are you disappointed?”

  “Not at all.” She placed her hand on his arm reassuringly. “I’ll have a much better time with you than I would wit
h any of them. Besides, the likelihood of making a match in such a short amount of time isn’t high.” She smiled apologetically. “But I’m sure you’d rather a different partner.”

  “Absolutely not. Why would you think so?”

  She shrugged, casting her gaze around. “You’ve never participated in something like this. I assumed you weren’t looking to form an attachment with someone.”

  He pursed his lips playfully. “Is that what this is all about? Finding a wife? I thought we were joining forces to bring Christmas cheer to others.”

  She pinched his arm and he laughed. “Don’t tease. Some of us need a little extra time with the opposite sex to form an attachment.”

  “Is that what you want? To form an attachment?” he asked quietly, watching for any flicker of emotion on her face.

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “Of course. I’m twenty-three, Harry. I’m running out of time if I want to marry. Spinsterhood is around the corner.”

  When Rosalie turned her attention to Lady Weston, Harry grinned. Rosalie would never be a spinster.

  * * *

  Rosalie’s heart pounded as she and Harry tiptoed down the hall on their first mission to deliver Christmas cheer.

  She’d been paired with Harry. Of all the rotten luck!

  How was she supposed to ignore her feelings for him and form an attachment with another if she was constantly around him?

  She’d been in love with Harry for years. And although she was grateful for their friendship, she wanted so much more from him. But he obviously didn’t feel the same. He was friendly enough, all right. She’d even go so far as to say he loved her in a platonic sort of way. But she wanted more.

  No matter how painful it was, if she ever wanted a family of her own, she needed to move on. She needed to banish her feelings for him and continue to look for someone who was open to having a romantic relationship with her.

  No matter how much she wished it, Harry would never be that man.

  “Oomph.” She’d slammed into Harry’s back as he abruptly stopped at a corner. She hadn’t been paying enough attention.

  He turned quickly, reaching out to steady her. The hairs on her arms stood on end at the contact.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered.

  She nodded, not trusting her voice in that moment.

  “All right. I see Lady Tisdale in the library.”

  Rosalie’s eyebrows crinkled. “Can she still read? I thought her eyesight was poor.”

  “Her companion is reading to her.”

  “Ah.” That made a lot more sense. The woman was old, to be sure, but she still had the mental acuity of a twenty-year-old.

  Harry glanced at the box in his hands. “Are you sure she’ll like this?”

  Her lips turned up ruefully. “It’s chocolate, Harry. All women like chocolate.”

  “I know you do,” he said so quietly she almost didn’t hear him.

  Her eyes slowly met his, and for the first time, she saw something deeper there. Something that sent a hot surge down her spine.

  Her breath caught. Could he possibly be attracted to her?

  He’d never shown any indication of that before. But then again, when had she huddled in a dim hall, practically pressed up against his side, as they whispered quietly like lovers?

  It had to be the atmosphere. A trick of the light. Nothing had changed between them for him to want her after all this time.

  She was being foolish, seeing things that weren’t really there just because she wanted them to be. “How do you want to deliver it?” she asked, hoping to distract herself.

  His gaze slid over her face one last time, and she could feel each sweeping caress as if it were his fingers instead of his eyes.

  He looked around the corner again. “There’s no way to sneak in there unseen. And if she catches us, we won’t be able to do anything else before our time is up.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “It’s not as exciting, but shall we ask a maid to deliver it? I’d like to do something else before our time is up.”

  “Agreed.”

  Harry flagged down a passing maid, and gave her instructions on delivering the chocolates. The fresh-faced young woman bubbled with excitement about playing a part in the Christmas tradition before she was off on her new errand.

  “Follow me,” he whispered again, taking her hand in his as he led her to the conservatory.

  The air was ripe with blossoming plants that mingled together in one earthy scent. It was warmer in here, the winter sun’s rays trapped by thick panes of glass, but that only helped their cause. No others would want to be in here this time of day when sunset was two hours away and the room was at its warmest.

  They listened for a moment making sure they were alone.

  Harry rubbed his hands together. “Now what should we do? Any ideas?”

  A dark lock of hair rested on his forehead. He looked younger, more carefree. Was it the festive atmosphere that had done that?

  She wanted to reach forward and caress that unruly section of hair.

  He was so handsome. Why was it in moments like this, when the lighting hit his features just right, when he said something, or did something, that she saw him as if seeing him for the first time? As if all the times they’d spent together, she’d never truly looked at him.

  She looked away from him. It hurt too much. She needed to get this activity over with as soon as possible so she could spend time with others and possibly find a match. Wanting Harry this much couldn’t be good for her. “Why don’t I ask Miss Smith for ideas? I’m sure Lady Tisdale’s companion would know much more about what she’d like than we would.”

  “Let’s go together.”

  She shook her head, hoping the movement didn’t appear as frantic as she felt inside. She couldn’t be with him right now. She needed a moment away. A moment to settle herself and her feelings. “If we go together, Lady Tisdale would know. If it’s just me asking to speak with Miss Smith, then it’s nothing. That isn’t suspicious.”

  “You’re right. Why don’t you see if you can speak with her now, and we will meet back here in two hours? We should have enough time to plan whatever we need to before dinner.”

  Two hours. It was just what she needed to get her feelings under control.

  Or so she hoped.

  * * *

  She’d been able to pull Miss Smith away from Lady Tisdale easily enough. Her employer had fallen asleep the chapter before, and Miss Smith was sitting there, merely waiting for the Lady to wake.

  But now, she was headed to meet Harry again. And two hours hadn’t been nearly enough.

  For the first time, she realized how serious the situation had become. She couldn’t be around him. And that one realization deflated her. She was going to have to avoid him after this.

  But why did it have to hurt so much?

  Straightening her shoulders, she notched her chin up and marched into the conservatory. She had to be strong right now. She could fall apart and figure out what needed to be done after they completed their task.

  “Harry?” she whispered.

  “Over here,” he called quietly.

  She walked toward his voice, but didn’t see him. “Where?”

  “A little farther.”

  She could hear him clearly, but couldn’t see him. Her steps slowed on the path, her hands fisting at her hips. “I don’t see you—ah!” she shrieked as arms reached out, pulling her into the dense bushes to her right.

  Her heart thundered in her ears as he chuckled. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” He laughed, completely unrepentant.

  The happy sound warmed her soul, but she shut her eyes against the feeling, guarding her already bleeding heart.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, sensing something was off rather than seeing her face in the dim lighting now that the sun had set.

  “Of course.” She cleared her throat as she stepped away from him. “Just a little pressed for time. The gown my mother l
aid out has a million buttons down the back, and my maid needs extra time to dress me.”

  He was silent for a moment, but she couldn’t tell if he believed her or not. “We won’t take too long then. Were you able to find anything out?”

  “Yes. There’s a particular song she loves. Apparently it’s her favorite, especially this time of year.”

  “Do you know why? What’s the significance?”

  “I don’t. And neither did Miss Smith. But I thought that since it was Lady Tisdale’s favorite, I would play it for her, for everyone actually, this evening after dinner. I’d never heard of it before, but I was able to find sheet music for it in the music room. I should be able to play it easily.”

  “Excellent.” He squeezed her shoulders, and she stiffened against his touch. It was too much right then. With her feelings out of control as is, his touch overwhelmed her.

  He jerked his hands away as if scalded, but he didn’t mention it. “Shall we meet up again before you perform? Are you sure you don’t need to sneak away to practice?” he asked, but his voice had lost its playfulness. She regretted that, but it was for the best.

  They couldn’t go on as they were.

  “No. I should be fine. I think Lady Tisdale will really enjoy this,” she said, unable to think of anything else.

  “I agree.”

  She edged toward the path. “I should really get back. My maid will be waiting.”

  “See you at dinner.”

  She closed her eyes after turning away. The concert would have to be the last time she saw him for a long time.

  Her heart couldn’t stand anymore.

  * * *

  Harry could hardly eat at dinner. Not the festive atmosphere nor the succulent dishes served could persuade him.

  Rosalie wouldn’t look at him.

  At first, he brushed it off. She was either engaged in conversation elsewhere or focusing on the meal. But as time ticked by, she’d spoken with most others around her except him.