Read Ghosts of Winters Past Online
Authors: Christy Graham Parker
Ghosts of Winters Past (4 page)
Four
Henry pulled up to her house right at ten o’clock. Bess and the boys waited outside while he collected her.
Emma couldn’t help the grin that broke out on her face when she saw him.
“Lady Emmaline. How beautiful you look this morning.”
She curtsied. “Thank you,
y
our
g
race.”
Henry
, she wanted to say, but didn’t. There were servants nearby.
His eyes told her he felt the same.
Instead, he winked at her and held out his arm. She took it and allowed herself to be helped into his carriage. The boys and Bess, she noticed, rode in a separate one behind them.
“Very
circumspective
of you,
y
our
g
race,” she said once she was tucked in blankets and they were on their way.
His eyes danced with merriment. “Indeed. I am often complimented on such.”
“Where are we going?”
“All in good time. All in good time.”
For once, she didn’t feel the need to argue with him. She leaned her head back, enjoying the feel of the cold breeze on her face and the warmth of Henry pressed against her side. The realization that she could grow accustomed to such outings with him didn’t shock or scare her as it
might
have a few days earlier.
“Not falling asleep on me, are you?” he asked.
“No, just enjoying.”
He scooted closer and she smiled at the nearness. They rode in silence
,
and it didn’t take long to realize they were traveling outside the city. Little by little, the carriages passing them grew fewer and fewer.
“I know,” she said as they passed a lone rider. “You are kidnapping us.”
“Indeed. I shall keep you to myself forever.”
It felt as if her heart grew wings. If only he could keep her forever. She schooled her reply. “Laura will be horrified, you know. She loves those boys like they were her own.”
“Very well, Bess and the boys can go back. I’ll just keep you.” His tone was light and playful, but his expression told her he was serious.
“Shall we make our home in the wood?” she asked, teasing him, surprising herself at how easy it was. It seemed he had something similar to that in mind. They had turned off the main road and were headed toward a densely covered forest.
“I think that would be a splendid idea. Considerably more fun than taking my place in the House
of Lords
.”
“I would hope so. The House sounds dreadfully boring. At least according to my father.” Speaking of her father made her remember she had to somehow confront him about the letter issue.
There was no time to dwell on that thought, however, for Henry had pulled the carriage over and waved the one following them to move ahead. After it parked, half a dozen boys spilled out, a bemused Bess following.
“Dear me,
y
our
g
race,” she said. “I must thank you again for inviting the boys on this outing. Such little time they have with a gentleman.”
Henry helped Emma out of the carriage while answering Bess. “I cannot fathom you to still thank me after all that time you spent in the carriage with them.”
“
’
Tis nothing I’m not used to.”
The boys ran ahead of them, chasing each other and tossing snowballs. They were in the middle of a wooded lot, so Emma didn’t spend any time worrying about their shouts disrupting anyone. They were free to run wild and simply be boys. Her heart lifted just witnessing their joy. If only she were as free to run wild. But society had rules…
“So happy they are,
y
our
g
race,” Bess said. “And shan’t be any trouble getting them to sleep tonight.”
The three adults walked ahead and
,
for the first time, Emma noticed the axe Henry carried.
“What are your plans?” she asked him. “Nice as it is for them to have this free time, surely you had some alternate purpose?”
“Yes, of course. Our goal for the day is to find a Christmas tree for the orphanage.”
A Christmas tree!
She didn’t think the home had ever had one. Not one that she remembered anyway. “Oh, Henry! I, um, mean
y
our
g
race, how delightful.”
She felt mortified. She couldn’t believe she’d called him by his first name in front of Bess. Now word would get back to Laura and, before she knew it, everyone would have heard.
Bess waved her off. “Please. Think nothing of it. I may be ancient, but I remember well how it felt to be young. I’ll go with the boys to find the perfect tree
. Y
ou two take your time in joining us.”
Then, before either Emma or Henry could object, she was off, moving with greater speed than Emma thought possible for a woman of her years.
Henry gave a stout laugh. “I do like her. A woman after my heart that one.”
“It’s simply scandalous. Leaving us alone as she did.”
“Come now, my dear Emma. Who is going to know?”
“Anyone driving by.” And what did he mean calling her his dear Emma?
“I picked this place for its remoteness.”
It occurred to her then that he had planned this. The devil had planned for them to be alone. “Did you and Bess contrive this?”
He held out his arm and she took it, almost without thinking. To be so close to him
…
she had to touch him. It was almost as if he somehow drew her to him.
“We did. And I would do it a thousand fold to steal but a few moments alone with you.”
“If I had a brain in my head, I would insist you return me home at once.”
He stopped and turned to face her. “Sometimes, we have to live as though we don’t have a brain in our head. How long has it been since you simply felt?”
Wetness gathered in the corner of her eyes
,
and she answered with a whisper. “Five years.”
He wiped her tears away with his thumb, trailed his fingers downward to trace her cheekbone, and gently cupped her cheek. “Oh, Emma, what have I done to you?”
“You left me. You left me all alone and now you’re back. I’m so scared.” Though she wasn’t sure what scared her the most
—
that he would leave again
,
or admitting to him how she would feel if he
did
leave again.
He looked deep into her eyes
,
and she forced herself not to hide from him. If he was strong enough to come back to her, she owed it to both of them to be nothing less than honest.
His voice was thick with emotion when he spoke again. “You have lived too long in the cold shadow of winter, when you deserve naught but spring.”
“Are you offering me spring, Henry?”
“You know me well enough to know I’m not always sun and warmth, but I would like to try for you. Please let me try.”
“And what of your father’s reasons for wanting you away from me? What of my parents keeping you from me all these years?”
“My father is gone, thus his reasons matter not.”
“But my father isn’t.”
“I’ve purposed myself to fight for you this time. The way I should have last time. They are your parents, but I vow they will no longer keep us apart.”
When he spoke, she believed him. She forced herself to recall she believed him once before and got nothing but heartache and pain from it.
This time is different.
It would have to be. They were different. They had lived through the longing and want of the last five years
,
and they knew what they had been missing.
She could no longer bear not to touch him. She captured his face in her hands, recalling the feel of his angular cheekbones and jawline under her fingers. So familiar he was, and yet, so strange. Time had not only changed her, but him as well. There was a strength in him that had not been there five years ago.
“Don’t fight for me, Henry,” she whispered. “Fight for
us
. Be strong for
us
.”
He slipped his arms around her and drew her close. “With all I have.”
She had but a second to drink in his words before
he
dropped
his head
,
and his lips brushed hers in a soft kiss. He was gentler than she remembered. The wild hellion of a teenager had been replaced by a man who knew his strength, but knew it took a far greater skill to keep that strength in check.
She looped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer when he tried to step away. He smiled against her lips, kissing her yet again.
“We should go find the boys and Bess,” he finally said.
“I suppose we must.”
His tone grew serious. “I’m not dallying with you. I didn’t bring you here to steal a few kisses. I will have you for my wife.”
She almost nodded. To be the Duchess of Salle had once been her fondest wish, but she was no longer a girl. She was a woman and she knew more about what that meant. To be a duchess, yes, but more than that, to be a wife. So instead of agreeing instantly, she took her time, hoping that in doing so, he knew the truth of her reply.
“Yes.”
****
Never before in his entire life had one word held so much meaning. He closed his eyes and reveled in its sweetness. She was his. He had wanted her, been denied her, waited for her, and she would finally be his.
He felt as though he could do anything.
He opened his eyes and grinned. “Say it again, for I am old and hard of hearing.”
She slapped his arm. “You are no such thing.”
“Fine then. I’m young and sentimental and wish to hear you say it again.”
When she didn’t speak, but crossed her arms in what he knew to be playful indignation, he tried again. “Say, ‘Yes, Henry, I will marry you.’”
“You are quite mad.”
“Funny. I think I recall us having that conversation not too long ago.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Al
l
right. Fine. Yes, I will marry you.
Your
g
race
.”
Before she had a chance to feel satisfaction at calling him
y
our
g
race
, he threw his arms around her, dipped her low, and kissed her senseless.
Kissed them both senseless.
By the time he pulled them upright and they’d calmed their breathing, he no longer remembered what they’d been discussing. Only that she’d agreed to marry him.
“Now we really must find Bess and the boys,” she said.
Always the practical one, his Emma. He would find joy in knowing exactly how to get underneath that pragmatic exterior.
He looked at her
;
flushed cheeks, just-been-kissed lips, flaming blue eyes, and wayward red hair that refused to be contained by her hat. “You’re beautiful.”
She flushed and looked down to her red coat, brushing snow off the front. But she didn’t say anything. No sign of her normal just-under-the-cover wit.
“Sorry. Did I embarrass you?”
Finished with dusting her coat, she turned her attention to her hair, trying without success to tame it. “It’s just I’m a bit unaccustomed to such compliments.”
“Then I shall do my part to accustom you to them.”
“Henry.”
He loved the sound of his name falling from her lips. Truly, there was no sweeter sound. “Emma,” he said, because he loved the sound of her name on his.
But as their eyes met, he knew if they stayed where they were much longer, he would kiss her again. “We need to catch up with Bess and the boys,” he said.
If they didn’t catch up soon, the group might turn around and try to find them. To be caught kissing Emma wouldn’t bother him overmuch, but he didn’t want any further harm done to her reputation. He took her hand and tucked it under his arm.
“I believe we’ll find the boys arguing about what tree is best,” she said. “Arguing is what boys do best.”
“It most certainly is not.”
“Thank you for proving my point.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she started first.
“We should keep our agreement secret for now.”
He stopped. “Come again?”
He didn’t understand. He wanted to shout from the rooftops that she was his. Print it in the papers. Mark it in the betting book at White’s.
“Only for a short while,” she said. “Until I learn why my parents kept you and your letters from me.”
She had a good argument. Thinking further, he decided the time would allow for him to explore why his own father did the things he did.
“
Very well
. But just until the Kringles
’
Christmas Eve Ball. That night I announce to everyone you’re mine.”
“Don’t you think you have it backward?”
“In what manner?”
“On Christmas Eve
,
everyone will know you’re
mine
.”
“I’ve always been yours, Emma.”
She blushed again.
He picked the axe up from where he
had
dropped it, though he couldn’t quite remember when he dropped it, and they followed the sounds of young boys playing in the snow. It wasn’t long before they came upon Bess and the children. Emma had been right
…
there was an ongoing argument between two trees.
For a while, he stood back and watched her reason with them about the pros and cons of each tree. It amazed him, the different facets of her personality: the standoffish spinster she showed society, the nurturer who played with orphans, and the woman filled with passion who was his and his alone. He loved how different each was, yet how they came together beautifully in her.
As one who had been around the boys for some time, within minutes she had the tree argument resolved.
She pointed at the winning tree. “That one,
y
our
g
race.”
“Excellent choice.”
He took his jacket off and started chopping the tree down. Though at first the boys watched with unwavering attention, it wasn’t long before a snowball fight broke out.
“You’re smiling,” Emma said, coming to stand beside him.
“Am I?”
“Indeed
,
and I do believe it is most irregular to be smiling while chopping
down a tree.”
It wasn’t an overly large tree, but she was right, it probably wasn’t normal. He answered her with a grunt as he swung the axe again. When he pulled his arm back to take another swing, he realized what it was
—
he was content.
In that moment, surrounded by laughing children, the woman who would be his wife, and working to bring joy to the orphans’ Christmas, he had found contentment unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
He met Emma’s eyes. “It’s because I’m finally home.”
