Mistletoe & Michaelmas (3 page)

Something about her words hit Aaron right in the gut. “You can do such an impressive card trick, but you can't shuffle a deck. Aren’t you a mystery?” he mused, with a grin, still racking his brain to make sense of what she'd said and how to fix it.

“I’m glad you think so. I’d hate for all of my secrets to be on display.”

“So would I. It'll be far more enjoyable to discover them all slowly.” There he went saying something he shouldn't again. Unfortunately, he couldn't stop himself from doing so when she was around. Something about her drew the boldness right out of him.

“My my, are you always so forward, Mr. Lentz?”

“No.” His eyes stayed locked with hers. “Only with you.”

That pretty faint pink blush from earlier stained her cheeks again. “And what is it about me that makes me so special?”

“You're you.”

Daphne idly played with the deck of cards in her hand. “I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not, Mr. Lentz.”

“I'd be delighted to clarify that if you'll refrain from referring to me as Mr. Lentz.”

“That is your name, is it not?”

“It is.” He smiled. “But so is Aaron.”

She lifted the cards in her left hand and let them slowly fall to her open right palm. “Would your middle name be Forward, perhaps?”

“If you'd like it to be, it can.” He shrugged and reached his leg toward the hem of her skirt. She wanted to call him forward, he could be forward. “I'd prefer if you'd call me Aaron instead of Forward; but I'll take whatever you're willing to use as long as it's not Mr. Lentz.”

“And why should I call you by your Christian name?”

“Other than because I gave you leave to do so?”

She nodded.

“Calling me Mr. Lentz. It makes me feel like an old man.”

Daphne pinched her lips together to hold in the laughter that was threatening to break free. It was a hard task, to be sure.

“I already know you think I'm one—” he flashed her his devilishly handsome grin— “but perhaps calling me Aaron will help you forget.”

“I never said I thought you were an old man.”

He arched a single brow. “Never said it, but did you think it?”

Daphne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, whether it was because their talk was making her uncomfortable or because his foot had somehow made its way under her skirt and his ankle had brushed hers, she didn't know. “Well...er...” She trailed off, her mind unable to form a coherent thought with what was going on below the table.

“So you
do
think I'm old.”

“No. I...um—” Her words died on her lips as a wide grin split his face.

Winking at her, he said, “It's all right. I
am
old.” He ran the tip of his index finger over the faint lines that fanned out around his eyes. “But not as old as I look.”

“Well, that's good, you look to be at least fifty.”

“So young?” Grinning, he bobbed his head as if he were bowing to her. “Why thank you.”

This time Daphne couldn't stop her laughter any more than she could stop the spring rain. “I do hope you know I was only jesting.”

“Oh.” Mr. Lentz, or Forward, as was a more appropriate name for him, twisted his lips into such an overstretched frown his row of bottom teeth showed. “I didn't realize. Unfortunately, I wasn't jesting...”

Finally spending more than ten years as a vicar and hearing delicate matters had a reward! Aaron schooled his features to look impassive while the fetching young lady seated across from him moved her lips, but made no sound.

He wasn't fifty. At least not yet. He would be one day, but he still had more than a decade to reach that rank. But she didn't need to know that quite yet.

“May I ask just how old you are?”

“You may ask.” Aaron set his foot back on the floor where it was safer, then held his hands out for the deck of cards. “But keep in mind my dignity and pride.”

“And tender sensibilities,” Daphne teased, handing him the cards.

“Yes, those, too.” Aaron shuffled the deck. “I was born in seventeen seventy-eight.”

Silence momentarily enveloped them.

“That makes you thirty eight.”

“No, not yet,” Aaron said in mock indignation. He shuffled the cards again then before pushing together the two stacks of cards that were merged in the middle, he lifted his thumbs, and used his fingers that were under the cards to push them up like a bridge and let them shuffle again from bottom to top.  “But I will be on December thirtieth.”

“Oh, forgive me for aging you.”

“I'll consider it,” Aaron said, plunking down the deck of cards in front of Daphne. “But for now I'll teach you how to shuffle.”

Chapter Four

Daphne was in trouble. Deep trouble.

And it had nothing to do with the current interrogation being conducted by Jane...

It took every ounce of determination Daphne possessed to keep a straight face and act disinterested when Jane asked her about her card game, and then consequently her luncheon seated next to Aaron.

A delicious tingle ran up her spine at the memory of his low voice whispering against her ear and his hands over top of hers as he taught her how to shuffle a deck of cards.

“I'll take that to mean you had an enjoyable time,” Jane said, a broad smile spreading her lips and a glint of laughter in her brown eyes.

“Well, of course. He didn't threaten to eat me at luncheon.”

“No, I'm sure he'd rather expend his energy in other ways,” Jane murmured. She cleared her throat. “Do you think you'd enjoy his company for more than just a card game or meals?”

Daphne frowned. Was Jane trying to marry her off to the first bidder, too? Surely if anyone would understand not wanting to be forced off on someone it'd be Jane. “I've only just met him yesterday!” Never mind that he'd already given her leave to use his Christian name and she'd certainly not admit to anyone that his very presence brought her entire being to life.

“Yes, I know you hardly know him.” Jane's tone was quiet. She tilted her head to the side. “I only asked if you'd like to spend time a little more time with him—not a lifetime. But now that you mention it...”

Daphne's top teeth dug into her bottom lip. She hardly knew anything about Aaron other than he was a shameless flirt and nearly twenty years older than her. She frowned. That alone would be enough for her brother Michael to refuse his suit.

“Perhaps you'd enjoy a sleigh ride with Mr. Lentz tomorrow afternoon?”

“Oh.” Daphne's heart slammed in her chest and her pulse quickened. When had he asked Jane for permission to take her on a sleigh ride? Or had he? “Did he ask your permission?”

Jane just smiled. “Yes, you goose.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“What was I supposed to tell him?” Jane inquired, pulling a hairpin from her bun.

That brought Daphne up short. What
was
Jane
supposed
to have said?

Jane slid another pin from her hair, making her long hair fall all around her. “Do you want to go?”

Yes
. “I shouldn't.”

“Shouldn't?” Jane set her hairpins on her vanity. “Is there something about Mr. Lentz you find disagreeable?”

“No.”

Jane waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, so then you find him too agreeable.”

“No!” Daphne choked. She cleared her throat, flushing. “I just meant—” She shook her head and flopped down on her sister's bed. “I don't know.”

“He's quite handsome, isn't he?”

Daphne couldn't argue that. An image of his high cheekbones, chiseled jaw, faint lines in his face and sparsely greying temples flashed in her mind. “In a...mature sort of way, yes.”

Jane idly twisted a lock of her mahogany hair. “I think he's handsome.”

“He is,” Daphne agreed.

“I saw the way you smiled when he came into the library this morning, Daphne.” Jane's tone held no sort of condescension or mockery, just sisterly concern. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you're attracted to him.”

Daphne opened her mouth to refute her sister's assessment, but came up short.

“I'd say the interest is reciprocated—and sincere,” Jane said softly. “Or else I wouldn't have even considered leaving the drawing room this morning nor would he have asked my permission to take you on a sleigh ride.”

Again, Daphne wanted to say something, but this time before she could, Jane spoke again.

“It's a sleigh ride, Daph, not a trip to Scotland—” she pursed her lips, her eyes widening— “at least it had better not be.” She closed her eyes and gave her head a slight shake. “I think you should go.”

Daphne did, too… “But what if...”

“What if you realize you're genuinely attracted to him?”

It was a little late for that, but Daphne nodded anyway.

“Then I'd say you'd make both you and Mr. Lentz quite happy.”

Daphne grinned ruefully. “And Gareth since he'll no longer have to act as guardian and find some unsuspecting soul to chain me to.”

“Indeed.”

Chapter Five

“What a lovely day for a sleigh ride,” Jane commented as she straightened the collar of Daphne's brown fur coat.

“Are you sure you and Gareth wouldn't like to join us?” Daphne offered, gesturing in the direction of the large oak door that was still closed and shielding them from the elements that required her to wear such a heavy garment. She'd be lying if she didn't admit—even if just to herself—that she hoped Jane would decline.

“No, I don't think so,” Jane said, then cast Aaron a pointed look that Daphne couldn't interpret as anything other than some sort of warning, but for what Daphne didn't know.

Aaron winked at Jane, then held his arm out toward Daphne. “Shall we?”

Daphne placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and waited while Dawson opened the door for them, revealing the most beautiful sight Daphne had ever beheld. Lain out before them was a beautiful white picturesque scene of white flakes gently swirling about, covering the tops of the trees in the distance.

Aaron led Daphne down the snowy steps and toward the sleigh that waited for them in the drive.

“Thank you for inviting me on a sleigh ride.”

“You're welcome.” He helped her into the sleigh, then took his seat next to her and snapped the reins. The sound of sleigh bells
tinkling
floated to her ears. “I'm glad you accepted.”

“Accepted? I don't recall
you
asking me,” she teased.

“Perhaps that's because I already knew your answer.”

“Ooooooh.” Daphne pressed her lips into a line. “I understand now. You thought asking my chaperone would spare your poor heart from rejection.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped his lips.
"My poor heart, indeed." He reached over and took her hand in his. “If I didn't think you wanted to come, I wouldn't have asked your sister. I just thought it was the appropriate step.”

“And if she'd said no?”

Aaron snapped the reins again and the horses picked up their pace, kicking up a cloud of snow right in front of Daphne and Aaron. "I wouldn't have said anything to her...we'd have just gone."

“You are a brave man,” Daphne said.

“You have no idea just how brave I'm being,” Aaron muttered under his breath as he steered the sleigh toward a little cusp of white frosted trees to the northeast.

“Well, if driving the sleigh is too taxing for you, I'd be glad to take over for you.”

Casting Daphne a sidelong glance he pulled the horses to a stop. “All right, they're all yours.”

“Uh...um...I...”

“Are going to drive this sleigh.” He placed the reins in her loose grasp, then folded his arms and propped his booted feet up on the runner.

Daphne cursed her dratted tongue. “I can't.”

“Sure you can,” he encouraged. “Just give the horses a gentle snap. Oh, and whistle. Whistling helps.”

She frowned. “Are you funning me?”

“I've never understood that expression, but no, I'm not funning you.” He dropped his feet back down to the floorboard and scooted closer to her, wrapping his right arm around her. “Can I help you?”

Yes, because if he didn’t, she'd melt into a little pool of mush right then and there.
“No, you can drive, I was only jesting.”

“I'm not.” His embrace tightened momentarily. “You're going to drive or we'll have to sit right here until spring when we'll eventually thaw out.”

“Or whenever Gareth comes after you to demand satisfaction for keeping me so long and ruining my reputation.”

“Then I guess if you don't want to marry me—” he flashed her a warm grin— “or have my blood on your hands, then you'd better snap those reins.”

Reluctantly, Daphne gave the reins a little snap...and simultaneously squeezed her eyes shut. A chuckle rumbled in Aaron's chest, but she didn't care.

The horses took off, and Aaron's hands slightly increased their hold on hers. He whistled and snapped the reins again. “Open your eyes, you're missing it.”

“Missing what?”

“Where we're going.”

“Is that so special?” She rather enjoyed the feeling of being in Aaron's warm embrace with the entire world shut out from view.

“I'd say so, because if you don't open your eyes and steer we'll run straight into that tree.”

Daphne's eyes sprang open and she would have yanked on the reins had Aaron not stopped her. “You tricked me,” she said when she realized they were nowhere near a tree.”

“I did no such thing,” he huffed in with the most ridiculous amount of mock indignation she'd ever heard. “It might have taken a good ten minutes at the speed we're going, but eventually...”

She nudged his side with her elbow. “All right, you want to see me steer, I'll steer.”

A loud
whoop
rang out, making her laugh.

Daphne carefully pulled back on the left rein and was pleased when, like she'd hoped, the horses turned slightly to the left. Gaining a bit more confidence in her steering ability, Daphne gave a low whistle and snapped the reins again.

Obediently, the horses picked up pace and another whistle sounded. “Has anyone ever told you what a mystery you are?”

“Only you.”

“Well, it's the truth.” He gave her a light squeeze. “One minute you're as sarcastic as the ocean is deep, the next you're full of wit and wonder. Other times you seem so quiet and uncertain and a moment later you're displaying your skills with no hint of hesitancy or weariness. You truly are a mysterious creature.”

She twisted her lips. “Has anyone of your sex ever considered those of my sex don’t enjoy being referred to as creatures?”

Aaron cocked his head to the side. “I’m sure at least one of us has considered it...”

“But they just don’t care?” she finished for him.

“I wouldn’t say they
don’t care
.” He sighed, then idly tapped his finger against his jaw. “No, you were right. They don’t care.”

“There you are being incorrigible again.” Daphne swatted his shoulder.

Aaron reached up and caught her hand, then brought her fingers against his lips. “You know you like it.”

“I do.” Her admission was so low and quiet he wouldn't have known she made it had he not been staring at her lips. He wanted so badly to kiss them. They were pink and lush. Made for kissing. “And I think you like it.”

“I know I will,” Aaron murmured, closing the gap between them—

Daphne jerked back with a slight squeak. Was he about to
kiss
her? The frozen expression on his face, complete with puckered lips confirmed that he was. And she backed off like a ninny. A million thoughts raced through her mind. None of which brought about the right words to say to erase the tension of this moment.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she stammered, feeling every ounce the fool he probably thought her to be!

“Wishing I'd be swallowed up by a large hole in the ground to escape this embarrassment.”

“I hate to tell you this, but I've wished—prayed even—for that many times and it never happens.”

“There could always be a first...” Aaron offered, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Her fingers itched to touch those lines. Instead, she curled them into a ball in her lap to keep her from doing anything that might embarrass either of them. “Ah, but as a well-versed man of the Bible, you ought to know there is nothing new under the sun.”

Aaron's rich laughter echoed around them. “You are correct.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “About both.”

“Both?”

“There's nothing new under the sun. And—” he cleared his throat, his cheeks turning the slightest hue of pink— “for moving back and stopping me from taking a liberty I had no right to take.” He swallowed audibly. “I beg you, please forgive me.”

A small measure of relief flooded Daphne to know he didn't interpret her response as anything other than a way to guard her reputation. “I'll only accept your apology if you answer another question for me.”

Aaron pursed his lips and turned his head from side to side as if he were weighing the positive and negatives of her proposition. “All right,” he said, blowing out a deep breath. “Be gentle.”

Daphne licked her lips, her mind swimming with questions she wanted to ask him. None of which summed up everything she wanted to know. Aaron seemed so comfortable with her and yet, he'd said she'd brought out the forward part of him. But he'd also said he'd become a “barnacle” to the ladies he thought he could form an attachment. He was also nearly twenty years older than her, but he'd never mentioned children. What was his story? Had he been married before? If so, did he have children, he'd never mentioned them—

“This must be a clanker of a question if it's taking you this long to think how to word it,” Aaron drawled, flustering her. “Just spit it out, nobody will know how scandalous you are. Well, nobody but me,” he amended with a wolfish grin.

“Gracious, has anyone other than me ever told you how incorrigible you truly are?”

“That's your question,” Aaron said, chuckling. “Seems like a wasted question to me.”

Daphne frowned. “You know as well as I do that wasn't my question.”

“It's the one you asked.” Aaron stretched his long legs out on the front of the sleigh and took the reins from her limp grasp “So in all fairness, I'll answer it.”

Daphne had the strangest urge to brain the man, but through some miracle, she refrained.

“The answer is yes.” The roughness in his voice was impossible to miss. “But she didn't say it in a way that made me enjoy being called such.”

Daphne's breath caught and a foreign tendril of heat coiled in her abdomen. “I—I see.”

“I doubt you do.” His jaw tightened. “I was married once before,” he said on a sigh. He swallowed audibly. His eyes were fixed in front of them, offering her a side profile of his face, but that was enough to see his clenched jaw and the hard expression he wore on his face. “She used to say that about me.” He found Daphne's hand and brought it up to his mouth where he placed a gentle kiss on her wrist, then lowered their hands.  “But it wasn't said in the same manner as when you say it.”

Daphne bit her lip to keep from asking something that wasn't her business.

But it was as if he knew what she wanted to ask already.

“We were both eighteen and ran off to Scotland...” Aaron turned toward her, his eyes held a faraway look, making Daphne's gut clench. Did he still love his wife? What was the crushing sensation in her chest? She thrust away the thought. Aaron was a nice gentleman, but they'd never suit. This was only further proof—

“I just wasn't enough for her, I suppose.” His voice was so quiet, she'd barely heard his words over the gentle snowy breeze.

“Wasn't enough?”

Aaron set the reins in his lap and reached one long finger up between her eyes to the spot that dratted wrinkle always formed when she was confused about something. Nodding, he said, “She preferred a country squire—”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Daphne rushed to say. She could feel her eyeballs bulging in her sockets; unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it.

“It's all right.” Aaron shot her a self-deprecating grin. “He was one of the betters on her list—which is why I mentioned him first.”

“Betters? List?” Daphne choked.

Aaron nodded again. “One country squire, two footmen in my father's house, three unidentified men from her brief stay in London, a fifty-five year old smithy and of course my own brother.”

Daphne's gut clenched again, but this time in a far more painful way that sent blistering bile surging up her throat. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered. She didn't know what else to say.

“Don't be.” Something about his dismissive tone and words seemed off, but Daphne couldn't place why.

“May I ask what happened to her?” Daphne knew it wasn't her place to ask such a question, but she couldn't help it.

He held her gaze. “Parliamentary divorce.”

Now it was Daphne's turn to nod slowly. Though, or perhaps because of, born the daughter of a viscount, she and her sisters had grown up like mushrooms: always in the dark about important matters and only fed whenever necessary, which meant her knowledge of parliamentary divorces was quite slim.

“Does this change anything?”

Daphne blinked at him, her mind spinning. “Like what?”

His laugh was hollow. “Do you think differently of me? Or wish for me to take you back to the house at once?”

“Wait!” Daphne threw her hand up the way Jane always did to get her sisters to stop talking. “One question at a time.” She offered him a smile in return. “Do I think differently of you? Perhaps a little.” Noting the way his jaw was tightening again, she quickly added, “But not in a way that makes me want to demand you return me to the safety of my sister and away from your immoral clutches.”

He laughed again, only this time it was genuine and made his blue eyes sparkle.

“Tell me, my dear, if I haven't made you want to run before you're tainted by scandal, how has your opinion of me been altered?”