A Country Christmas (Timeless Regency Collection Book 5) Page 24

  Archie stopped at the top of the hill. He cupped her chin, lifting her gaze. “Nothing was ruined. You have no need to apologize.” He pushed out a breath, remembering what Jonathan had told him: talk to her—plainly—and then listen. “Jane, I am the one who should apologize.” Seeing her confused look, he continued, “For my actions two nights ago. I should never have taken such liberties, kissing you without your permission. I know it upset you. And I never intend for you to feel ill at ease in my company.”

  Jane walked silently, and Archie’s heart sank. She was still uncomfortable. Perhaps she didn’t intend to forgive him. He’d overstepped, assumed too much, and ruined his chances with the woman he loved. Maybe he’d never had a chance in the first place. His stomach began to feel ill and his rib cage tight.

  “I was not upset,” Jane said, her voice quiet.

  “Don’t spare my feelings. I saw your tears. It was very wrong of me.”

  She shook her head, walking slower and still not looking at him. “I was disappointed.” She paused, then stopped altogether.

  “Disappointed?”

  She let go of his hand, wrapping her cloak tighter around her. “Archie, I was disappointed, not because you kissed me, but because I thought—I hoped—you would kiss me.”

  Color flooded her cheeks, and Archie’s mouth gaped open. His power of speech deserted him altogether.

  She turned and hurried toward the cabin, waving her hand and calling out to her sister when she got close.

  Archie remained where they had stopped. She’d hoped for a kiss? And not just a kiss, but a kiss? Had Jane cared for him all along? His mind jerked back into action, and he replayed the events of the last few days, seeing them in a new light. A trickle of hope made its way into his chest. It grew, pressing outward and filling him with warmth and joy. He walked slowly back to the cottage, letting the feeling settle in his bones.

  Well, Ren, he thought, a smile pulling at his mouth, your absurd advice was not so foolish after all.

  Chapter Eight

  Christmas day was a flurry of activity. The men made trips back and forth from the cottage to the manor house and the Cringlewoods’ home. They returned with tablecloths, dishes, food, and even an extra table. Kathleen directed the furniture arrangement, and Eliza supervised the cooking. Tom helped Simon bring the goose and other food from the Cringlewoods’, and the women helped with the final preparations.

  Jane could not have imagined working so hard preparing for the Christmas feast or enjoying herself so much as she did it. The ladies sang Christmas hymns as they worked, and Kathleen told stories of holiday celebrations when she was a child. Even Eliza joined in the singing. To Jane, it felt like belonging to a family—something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

  She glanced up when the door opened and Archie carried in a pair of chairs from the manor, but when she met his gaze, she quickly looked back down at the wreath of holly she was arranging around the candlesticks. She still could not believe what she’d told him earlier—that she wanted him to kiss her? What kind of young lady confessed something like that to a gentleman? If anyone else were to find out, they’d surely think her a tart.

  She should apologize. Find a moment alone with Archie to set the record straight. If it were at all possible, convince him not to reveal what she’d said to anyone else.

  Once the table was set to her satisfaction and the food warming, Kathleen declared they should all dress for dinner.

  Jane pulled the ball gown from her trunk. She shook it out, admiring the lovely velvet and gold trim. “It seems too ostentatious for this simple cottage,” she said, holding the dress in front of her.

  “Nonsense.” Kathleen motioned for her to turn around and helped her slide the dress over her head. She pulled tight the strings. “A special day calls for a special gown.” She played the part of lady’s maid, arranging Jane’s hair atop her head and allowing strands of curls to hang down around her face and shoulders. As the room contained no mirror, Jane had to trust that Kathleen’s elegant taste applied to hair styling, as well. “Now turn around, dear, let me see you.”

  Jane spun, loving the feel of the heavy fabric of the skirt.

  Kathleen’s face softened into a warm smile. “Lovely.”

  “Thank you.” Jane smiled and then, on a whim, gave the older woman a kiss on the cheek. “Happy Christmas, Mother Kathleen.” She fetched a package from her trunk and stepped out into the main room.

  The smell of Christmas supper filled the air. The tables were pushed together to make one long banquet table, set with white cloths and sparkling china. Holly, ivy, and candles decorated the center, the flames sparkling on the goblets and silverware. In the corner, taking up more of the small space than was reasonable were two evergreen trees. Archie had brought small tapers, ribbon, and glass baubles from a box in his luggage, and the ladies had adorned the branches. With the candles lit, the trees were every bit as beautiful as he’d described.

  As Jane stepped toward the trees, Archie climbed down the ladder. When their eyes met, he fumbled, losing his footing, but regained it quickly.

  He’d shaved and wore a dark coat with tails that touched the backs of his knees. His hair was combed and his cravat carefully tied, although she didn’t think he had a mirror either. When he saw Jane, he bowed.

  She curtseyed.

  Archie walked toward her, meeting her in the space before the trees. He took her hand, studying her. “Jane, you look—” He swallowed. “You look beautiful.” His voice was low and serious.

  “Thank you.” She glanced down, holding the skirt of her dress. “Maryann and Kathleen insisted upon the dress, but I think it is rather formal for—”

  “I hadn’t even noticed the dress.”

  She looked up, squinting as she wondered at his meaning.

  “You look beautiful. Radiant, even. I have not seen you look this happy since . . . well, since I’ve known you.”

  “I am happy.”

  He nodded, turning toward the trees.

  “I’d always thought eine Tannenbaum to be the most delightful part of Christmas, but do you know what is even more delightful?”

  “No,” she said, feeling nervous that he’d bring up her earlier confession.

  “Zwei Tannenbäume.” He spoke the words carefully, pronouncing the German words with a perfect accent. “Two Christmas trees are much better than one, especially knowing the sentiment behind them.”

  She wondered for a moment if he were teasing, but saw no sign of it in his expression. “Do you mean because we each crept out before dawn, hoping our tree would be a surprise for the other?”

  “Exactly.” He moved her in front of him to admire the trees, resting his hands on her shoulders. “I cannot remember any gift ever meaning so much to me, because I know what you sacrificed to bring it about.”

  “And you did the same,” she said. Jane glanced down at the package in her hand. She turned, holding it up between them. “I brought you a Christmas gift.”

  Archie tore off the paper and opened the box, lifting out the small nativity.

  “It’s from Bavaria,” she said. “The man at the shop told me it’s meant to hang from the ribbon.”

  He held it up, studying the image, then looped the ribbon over a branch to allow the carving to dangle beneath. Stepping back, he studied the effect. “It is perfect.”

  Jane felt pleased with his reaction. “I am glad. You are not an easy person to shop for.”

  He shrugged. “I think you did quite well, all things considered—with both gifts.” He watched her, his eyes growing thoughtful. “And I have something for you as well.”

  She shook her head. “You already gave me a gift—the book. And I love it. There is no need . . .” Her words trailed off when she saw what he held: a sprig of mistletoe directly over her head.

  Heat flooded over her cheeks. He was making a joke; he had to be. Her first instinct was to hurry away, perhaps hide herself in the bedchamber. But she glanced up
at Archie’s face and froze.

  His eyes were earnest and hopeful. He waited, brows raised, looking a little bit frightened and very vulnerable.

  Jane stepped forward instead. She touched her fingertips to his coat lapels as his hand cupped her cheek and the other, dropping the sprig of mistletoe, circled around to press on her back. He bent his head, still holding her gaze, until she closed her eyes the instant before his lips touched hers.

  She was not prepared for the softness of his lips nor the heat that spread from their contact, making her heart pound and her knees weak. When he drew back, resting his forehead against hers, she let out a sigh. She closed her eyes again, wanting to melt against him. “I like that gift much better,” she whispered, not wanting to shatter the moment.

  Archie chuckled. “Jane, my darling, I am in love with you.”

  Her eyes popped open, and she drew her head back, not believing this—any of it—could be real.

  He must have seen the question in her face. “Do you think I give Christmas trees, classical books, and kisses to women I don’t intend to marry?” He tightened his arm around her, moving the other to rest on her hip.

  “Marry?” Jane’s mind whirled. “You wish to marry me?”

  The side of his lips pulled up in a smile. “More than anything. If you will have me.”

  She saw the truth in his eyes. Archie did love her. Tears sprang into her vision, blurring the lights on the tree. She thought she might float right up to the ceiling. “I love you, too. Of course I will marry you.” A nervous laugh burst out of her mouth.

  Archie joined her, chuckling and looking relieved. “I think that calls for another kiss, don’t you?”

  She nodded, closing her eyes.

  His lips barely brushed hers before she heard applause.

  She jumped back, but Archie kept his arm around her.

  Jonathan, Maryann, Kathleen, Eliza, Simon, and Tom came out from the rooms at the back of the cottage.

  “Congratulations!” Maryann pulled her sister into an embrace.

  “Oh, I am so happy for the two of you.” Kathleen smiled, clapping her hands together.

  “I thought supper would get cold waiting for you to finally get up the nerve,” Jonathan said in a grumbling voice, but his eyes were bright. He slapped Archie on the shoulder. “Couldn’t be happier for you, my friend.”

  Jane’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. They all knew. They’d hidden in the back rooms, watching and waiting. She wanted to hide herself. But looking at the gathered crowd, her embarrassment ebbed away, replaced by a swell of affection for each of them: Maryann and Jonathan, her treasured family; Mother Kathleen, who treated her like a beloved daughter; and Tom and the Cringlewoods, who had shared their Christmas, making it magical. She glanced up at Archie, her betrothed, and a thrill moved through her. She could not keep the smile from her face.

  Archie had planned the perfect Christmas, and nothing had gone as expected. Somehow, though, the unexpected had made everything exactly right, and now she had a lifetime of perfect Christmases to plan together.

  Other Works by Jennifer Moore:

  Jennifer Moore is a passionate reader and writer of all things romance due to the need to balance the rest of her world that includes a perpetually traveling husband and four active sons, who create heaps of laundry that is anything but romantic. She suffers from an unhealthy addiction to 18th- and 19th- century military history and literature. Jennifer has a B.A. in linguistics from the University of Utah and is a Guitar Hero champion. She lives in northern Utah with her family, but most of the time wishes she was on board a frigate during the Age of Sail.

  You can learn more about her at http://www.authorjmoore.com

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