Mistletoe & Michaelmas (5 page)

Chapter Eight

Later that Night

At the Ball

Not for the first time since Aaron had told Daphne the extent of his feelings, he was tempted to regret having told her. Not that it mattered so much, he'd lain his heart at her feet and she'd trampled it. It would have happened the same way either here or in London had he waited to pursue her then, he supposed. He nearly snorted, which would have been quite painful since he'd just taken in a deep sip of his champagne punch.

It all mattered not. What was done was done. It was over between them. Sure last night, he'd noticed her looking in his direction, but she'd never come up to talk to him or even gestured him to come to her. He sighed. That wouldn't be happening any more than ladies of the
ton
would stop their matchmaking schemes.

“How have you enjoyed your visit?” The duke's voice caught him unaware.

Aaron swallowed his discomfort and forced a smile. How ironic the only gentleman he'd ever known to play matchmaker had to pick this very moment to appear. “Very much so. Thank you for inviting me.”

“I'm glad to hear it.”

“Ah, love has been in the air this trip, my boy.” Danby said, idly rubbing his hands together.

“Do I need to perform a wedding tomorrow?” Aaron fought the tension in his shoulders. When the duke didn't respond, Aaron added, “Two?”

Danby shook his head, a slight smile on his lips.

“Three? Four?” Aaron stared at the still smiling man. Gads, how many of his grandchildren had he unwillingly shoved into holy matrimony? “I draw the line at five, Your Grace. Your hospitality was good, but not
that
good.” Aaron half-expected the man to at least chuckle at that. He did not.

“And what of the company?” Danby wondered as he looked out over the crush of finely dressed people congregated in his ballroom.

“You have a very nice family.”

At that, the duke did laugh. Loudly. “And I'd wager you'd like to become part of my very nice family.”

Aaron fisted his hands in his pockets and forced a shrug.

“Come, boy,” the duke said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I have matters to discuss with you.”

As if by sheer will of their own, Aaron's heavy feet followed the duke out of the ballroom and down a dimly lit hall. “Couldn't we have discussed this in the ballroom,” Aaron wondered aloud as they passed another sconce that hadn't been lit.

“No.” The duke thumped his cane on the hardwood floor. “This matter is of the utmost importance and must be discussed in private.”

Aaron doubted that. Well, only a little. It wouldn't surprise him if one or two of the people on the list of potential bridegrooms didn't know of his own fate yet. A twinge of disappointment settled in Aaron's chest. He wouldn't have minded if his name had made that list… No, he wouldn't even think of that.

“Keep up, Mr. Lentz. We're almost there.”

Aaron frowned. Where was there? He was certain the duke's study was on the other side of Danby Castle.

“Let's go out here.” Danby opened the large door to the front of the castle and threw a skeptical glance over each of his shoulders before poking his head out the open front door and craned his neck to do a slow sweep of the porch.

Aaron stared at the man. Perhaps age was becoming his own undoing. The man's mechanisms weren't
that
private. Besides what man who still had his wits about him would bother to eavesdrop on the front porch during such bone chilling weather? Not Aaron.

“Out here, boy. Plans for weddings and love everlasting don't make themselves.”

Repressing a grumble that was on the tip of his tongue, Aaron stepped past the threshold of the door and then came to an abrupt halt when he realized the duke had led him to the most delicious sight he'd ever seen: Daphne, dressed in a shimmery blue ball gown, with a fur coat draped over here, gaping in the middle...standing under the mistletoe…

***

Daphne had never been so nervous in all of her life. That
should
be a ridiculous notion. Aaron had always been so forward and obvious about his feelings for her. He wouldn't reject her now that she'd come to her senses, would he? She hadn't actually thought of that before, but now that she stood like a simpleton underneath a large bough of mistletoe and she glimpsed him standing lifeless in the door as Danby wordlessly excused himself, the very real possibility was foremost in her mind.

“Aaron?” she said quietly.

“Daphne.” He took a step toward her, then another. In daylight he was handsome, but in the moonlight he was absolutely breathtaking. Strong and broad, his sculptured face was cloaked in shadows, making him only that much more attractive.

Daphne licked her lips as he closed the gap between them. “Aaron,” she breathed.

He came to a stop directly in front of her, but didn't say anything.

“I've been thinking about you,” she confessed.

His expression didn't change. “Good things?”

“That might depend on who you ask...”

“You.”

“Well, in that case...” she bit her lip and lifted her eyebrows— “
I'd
say they're good.” She relaxed her face and took a deep breath. “But you might not agree.”

Aaron's hands found hers. “A beautiful young lady is standing in front of me—under a large sprig of mistletoe, I might add—saying she's been thinking about me, thoughts which she'd considered good.” He intertwined his fingers with hers. “How could I possibly disagree?”

Nervous excitement and a sudden crippling doubt warred within her. “I—I don't know. You might have changed your mind.”

“Changed my mind?” He gently tugged on her hands. “What would I change my mind about?”

“Me,” she breathed.

Aaron released one of her hands, and brought his free hand up to her face. The fingers of his gloved hand, reached into the thick, red scarf that was wrapped around the bottom of her face. “I haven't changed my mind.” A small, reassuring smile took his lips and he brushed his thumb over her cheek. “But have you?”

She nodded, unable to speak. “I wouldn't say I changed my mind. It's more like I saw reason.”

He grinned.

Not trusting her voice again, Daphne tilted her head up to indicate she'd purposely positioned herself under the mistletoe and was ready for his kiss—were he still inclined toward her that way.

His smile faded and his Adam's apple worked in his throat. Then, without another word or warning, he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers.

Warmth radiated from within her and went to the ends of her fingers and the tips of her toes and everywhere in between.

“Mmm,” she murmured when he pulled back.

But he only pulled back for a moment before his lips were back on hers. Harder this time, but not uncomfortable, just more delicious pressure. His lips moved on top of hers, around hers and she melted into his embrace.

Aaron placed one last, searing kiss on her lips, then pulled back, two lines forming between his eyebrows. “Does this mean?” His ragged words made her want to pull him closer to her and never let him go.

“Are you asking if I'll allow you to court me?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “If you're willing to kiss me out here where anyone could see, I'd hope you'd be willing to at least allow me to court you.” Because if she didn't allow him to court her after kissing him that way, he just might die with want of her!

“Court me?” Daphne's sparkling amber eyes grew round and she twisted her lips. “No, I don't think so.”

Aaron's heart skipped a beat or three. “No?”

“No,” she confirmed.

Instinctively, Aaron pulled away. If she wasn't going to allow him to court her, he'd better let her go now. It was already too late, but now that he'd kissed her even a moment longer would just torment him more and prolong his agony. “We need to return back inside before someone finds us.” He noted the way she winced at the sharp edge of his words, but he
couldn't
care. He'd be damned if he had to marry yet another lady who didn't want him.

“Can we stay out here for just a few more minutes?”

“No.” He pulled away from her, walls of ice building up around his heart faster than he could breathe.

“Please, Aaron,” she said, reaching for him. Something akin to panic was in her voice, but he couldn't be certain if that was really her who was panicking or him. “Can you give me just a few minutes?”

“I already have.”

“Yes, you have,” she conceded, pulling her hands back from him. She took in a deep breath and her eyes glistened with what appeared to be tears. “But what about a few decades?”

“Decades?” He knew he sounded like a fool repeating everything she said, he just didn't care as his mind raced to make sense of exactly what she was saying.

“Yes, decades.” Daphne moved closer to him and looped her arms around his neck. “The way I see it, we could have at least four together.” She placed a kiss on his lips. “And if you behave yourself perhaps five.”

“That's a lot of sleigh rides and card tricks.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Are you sure you're ready for that?”

“Yes.”

“But yesterday you—”

“I was scared.”

Aaron lightly massaged her back with thumbs. “Is my company that bad?”

“No.” She lowered her eyes, her body going rigid. “I was afraid of what others might think.”

He could understand that and he silently said a prayer of thanksgiving for whoever helped Daphne see the reason she claimed to have been helped to discover. “And now?”

She met his eyes again, hers shining with more unshed tears. “I only care what you think.”

“I think five decades of card tricks, sleigh rides and conservatory picnics sounds like heaven as long as it's with you.”

“And don't forget meetings under the mistletoe,” she added, coming up on her toes to kiss him again.

Aaron caught her lower lip between his and ran his tongue along the edge. At her gasp, he pushed his tongue inside. She gasped again and melted into him. He would never tire of this. Never.

And it would seem as if he wouldn't have to.

Epilogue

Christmas Eve 1820

Yorkshire

It had taken several years, but Daphne had finally convinced Gareth and Jane to come and visit her and Aaron for Michaelmas. Of course Jane's hesitancy hadn't been completely unwarranted. Who'd want to do any unnecessary travel while increasing and all? Daphne mindlessly patted her own stomach and smiled. Not her.

“Your sister is here,” Aaron said, poking his handsome face into the open door of the parlor where Daphne had been waiting all morning for their arrival.

“All right, Janie,” Daphne said, scooping up her eldest daughter who, unbeknownst to her would have a brother or sister any day now—though Daphne hoped he or she would wait at least another day to make their grand entrance into this world. Ever since that first year, Daphne and Aaron had always made a trip back to Danby Castle to stand—and kiss—under the large bough of mistletoe that hung near the front door and tonight would be no exception. “It's time for you to meet your namesake.”

“Now don't you forget our promise,” Aaron said, playfully wagging his finger at Daphne. “If that baby—” he pointed toward Daphne's abdomen— “is a boy, we are not naming him Gareth.”

Daphne leaned forward and kissed Aaron's outstretched finger. “We'll see.”

His groan made her smile all the more. Truthfully, she had no desire to name any more children for Jane and Gareth, even if they were partially responsible for Daphne and Aaron's lasting happiness.

Just then a red-faced little boy came bounding around the corner, carrying a stick in one hand and a snowball in the other.

“And do you plan to throw that snowball on your aunt, young man?” Aaron teased as Daphne carefully bent to hug the young lad who she assumed was Jane and Gareth's eldest son.

“No, he brought it to hurl at his uncle,” came the very familiar voice of the Duke of Danby.

Aaron whirled around. “And what do we owe this visit to?”

“Someone at my house is planning to marry.”

“Oh, it's about time you married again,” Aaron said with ease.

“Believe me, had I discovered her before the first footman, it'd be my bed she'd be warming,” he muttered.

Daphne blushed, an endless flow of memories of her and Aaron warming the bed cycled through her mind.

The duke's harsh laughter pulled her present.

“Excuse me—Oh, Jane!” She ran to her sister and threw her free arm around Jane who had a much younger child in her arms. “I am so glad to see you.” She touched the baby's cheek. “And you.”

“What about me?” Gareth teased from where he stood behind Jane's chair, poking out his lower lip.

“Eh, you, too, I suppose.” She gave her brother-in-law a quick hug, then turned her attention back to Jane while Aaron and Gareth, and presumably the duke, had their gentleman's chatter. She sat on the blue and white striped chair nearest Jane and repositioned her little girl on her lap. “Jane, I'd like for you to meet Janie.”

Jane's smile could have lit the room. “Hello, sweet girl. I see you're going to be a big sister soon.”

“You're welcome,” Danby said.

Aaron coughed and Daphne flushed with embarrassment. “For what, Your Grace.”

“I told you how to snag this fine specimen,” Danby said plainly. He turned toward Aaron, “And I made it possible for you to woo her so you may thank me, too.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he said dutifully.

Danby did not look satisfied. He turned toward Gareth and Jane. “And you two can thank me as well. If not for my mechanisms—”

“Your mechanisms,” Gareth interrupted with a snort. “You just invited us and had a few awkward conversations with these two.
I
am the one who is owed thanks. If not for my—
oooof!
” Gareth's hand flew to his side. “What was that for?”

“You're talking too much,” Jane said. She favored the room with her bright smile. “All that matters is that Daphne and Aaron are blissfully happy together. How it all came to be isn't so important.”

Danby pursed his lips. “Says the lady who is credited with the matchmaking.”

Four snorts rang out. “Nobody is doubting your involvement,” Aaron said. “In fact—”

“Aaaah!
” A sharp pain pierced Daphne's back. She clutched her stomach. “I think it's time!”

Around her, the room swirled as Aaron called for Mrs. Neville, their housekeeper and cook, to go put water on to boil and for Gareth to go fetch the physician. She wondered what he'd have Danby do to keep him occupied, but her question was answered when Aaron put his arm around her and began to usher her from the room where Jane was going to watch the three children and Daphne spotted Danby lying in a chair with his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his mouth agape.

“I suppose childbirth isn't as enjoyable for him as playing matchmaker is,” she teased through gritted teeth. These contractions were harder and faster than they had been last time, she thought as Aaron ushered her into the bedroom they shared and helped her onto their large four poster bed.

Not only had her contractions come quicker this time around, so had the baby. Fortunately, she had a loving husband to help keep her comfortable through the pain that seemed to increase by the moment.

At the very last minute—quite literally—the physician arrived and took over for Aaron who was more than willing to go stand at Daphne's side and hold her hand. She prayed she didn't crush the bones in his hand, but with such intense pain, she wasn't certain she wouldn't leave five finger-shaped bruises at the very least.

He smiled down at her and pushed the hair out of her eyes and away from her sweaty forehead. “Squeeze away,” he said as if he'd read her mind.

She did.

And then a moment later, a loud cry filled the room and all thoughts of pain were gone.

Ever the most wonderful husband, Aaron stayed by her side while the doctor cleaned their new baby and then brought him over to them.

Time slipped right by them, or perhaps it just felt that way because her grandfather was one of the most impatient people she'd ever met.

“Are you ready for visitors?” a tired looking Jane asked, peeking her head inside the door.

“Of course they are,” Danby said, letting himself into the room.

Jane and Gareth wore hesitant expressions and Daphne waved them over. “It's all right. Come meet our new little boy.”

Jane touched her new nephew's cheek. “He's so beautiful.”

“Handsome,” all four of the men in the room corrected, sending Daphne and Jane into a little fit of giggles.

“Bah, I don't care how you gels refer to him as long as you call him by my name,” Danby said proudly.

Daphne bit her lip. “Actually, Aaron and I had planned to name him—”

“Bear in mind, young lady, any gift I might have for you in this bag—” he gave his brown leather satchel a slight shake— “might be in the balances...”

Aaron and Daphne exchanged a look. “Well, I suppose we'd better give the poor man a namesake,” Aaron said with an exaggerated sigh.

“I suppose you're right,” Daphne agreed on a sigh of her own. She made a show of biting her lip and turned her attention to the duke. “Would it be acceptable if James is his middle name?”

Danby twisted his lips into a sour expression and had one not known him better they'd have missed the faint excitement that lit his eyes. “I suppose that will do,” he said shrewdly, setting his satchel down by Daphne's feet at the end of her bed. “But just so we're all in agreement, no matter what his first name is, he will always be James to me.”

“I'd expect nothing less, Your Grace,” Daphne said unable to help her grin. She lifted her left arm, propping her newborn's body so the whole room could see his face. “May I present to all of you, Aaron James Lentz.”

“That's a perfect name,” Jane said. “May I?” She reached toward baby Aaron and his papa helped Daphne pass him off to her sister to hold.

Behind Jane, Danby grinned without abandon, then as the clock struck midnight, Danby started. “I best be getting home. I'm hosting a little ball tonight and I have some...er...” he coughed— “business to attend to.”

“I sure hope when I'm his age I'm still able to conduct business,” Gareth murmured after the man was gone.

“You're not the only one,” Aaron muttered, reaching for the duke's forgotten satchel. “I'm almost afraid to open this.”

“You can't be that afraid or you wouldn't have just been blackmailed into naming your eldest son after him for whatever that contains,” Gareth commented.

“Oh, we didn't,” Daphne said airily. “We'd already decided on the name. But since it made him so happy to think he'd manipulated us to get what he wanted—” She shrugged.

Jane looked at her husband. “And you thought you were a mastermind?”

Ignoring her, Gareth said, “Are you ever going to open that, Lentz?”

Aaron needed no further prompting. He unbuckled the gold buckle and pulled the strap, then flipped the flap backward and grinned. “Happy Michaelmas, Daphne” he said, pulling out the little bough of dried mistletoe that had likely hung over the duke's front door.

“Happy Michaelmas, Aaron,” she returned, leaning toward him. “I sure do love you.”

“I love you, too—more than words could ever express.” It was true and she knew it. So with no other words to say, Aaron lifted the sprig of mistletoe above their heads and the two embraced in their Michaelmas under the mistletoe kiss.

THE END