Kiss Me at Christmas--Playful Brides Read online

  “On the contrary.” He pressed his lips together. “I know exactly what you mean. I never wanted to sire a child only to have him go through what I went through.”

  Regina leaned her head back against the seat. “Your hideous father?”

  He nodded. “Among other things.”

  Regina touched her foot to his. “But Daffin, you’re not hideous.”

  His breath caught. He wanted to shrug off those words, too. “Regardless, it’s always been my fear.”

  She pulled her foot away. “Mine, too.”

  Daffin leaned to the side and braced himself against the seat on one elbow. “Do you think that fear might have also been what kept you from making a match?”

  Regina poked at a curl that had escaped her coiffure. “I’ve never considered it before, but I suppose that may be true.”

  “It might explain why you’ve been ‘on the shelf,’ as you said, all these years. You’re the niece of one of the most powerful dukes in the kingdom. You must have had your share of offers.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, and when you’re the niece of one of the most powerful dukes in the kingdom, many fortune hunters come looking for you.”

  Daffin studied her face. “Isn’t that to be expected?”

  Regina lifted one shoulder, then looked back at him and sighed. “I suppose so. Everyone in the ton knows my parents left me a great deal of money, and with my grandmother’s fortune and my dowry, I’m worth quite a purse.”

  “Better than being a pauper, one would think.”

  Regina snuggled the blanket up higher. “Perhaps, but at least a pauper knows her husband truly loves her. I’m afraid I’m always suspicious of any man who attempts to court me.”

  Daffin studied her face. He’d misjudged her. She might not be used to the kind of crime he saw on a regular basis, but she was savvy. She could see the truth about people. She had a spine of steel. After losing her parents, she’d obviously become toughened to the world to keep from falling prey to fortune hunters. She had reasons to keep men at arm’s length.

  “In all these years, you haven’t found one man who wasn’t interested in only your dowry?” He tilted his head to the side. “Given your beauty, I find that difficult to believe, my lady.”

  “My beauty?” She flushed.

  “You must know how beautiful you are.” He watched her carefully. Her eyelids lowered. “I suppose it’s as you said,” she admitted. “It wasn’t just the fear of falling prey to a fortune hunter. It’s also been the fear of becoming a mother. Though I’ve told myself all these years that love was my goal.”

  “Love?” he asked, his voice incredulous.

  She laughed out loud, causing Nicole to twist in her sleep. Regina clapped a hand over her mouth. “I mustn’t wake Nicole,” she said in a loud whisper. “But the way you said the word love was so comical. It was as if it were the verbal equivalent of a cockroach on your lips.”

  Daffin scratched at his chin and chuckled softly. “I suppose I’m not the biggest believer in love.”

  “Perhaps I’m not, either,” Regina said, focusing her gaze out the window once again. “That may be why I’ve yet to find it.”

  He lowered his brow. “How did you expect to find a husband in London before Christmas then?”

  “Oh, that was just pure desperation. Nicole can be convincing when she wants to be. I already know there’s no one in the ton I want to marry.”

  “Dryden’s just as good as any other.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Then why did you wait for love all these years?”

  She sighed. “When I was a child, I asked my mother whom I should marry one day.”

  “Did she give you a name?” he asked, suddenly a bit too interested to hear the answer. Perhaps Regina’s love had been unrequited. Perhaps there was a man she’d fancied who’d married someone else. The thought made him uneasy.

  She stared unseeing out the window, obviously lost in memory. “‘My girl,’ she said, ‘it’s quite simple. You must marry the man you cannot live without.’”

  Daffin slowly expelled his breath. Now that was some excellent advice about marriage. “And you’ve never found that man?”

  “Not yet,” she replied. She shook her head, returned her gaze to his, and pinned a smile to her lips. “Now it seems I’ve run out of time.”

  Daffin nodded.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said after a few moments passed.

  He arched a brow. “You do?”

  She glanced at Nicole. The marchioness was making tiny little sighing noises, but didn’t wake. Nevertheless, Regina lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’re wondering why I so cavalierly offered you my virginity.”

  Daffin tugged at his cravat. “Perhaps,” he said in a low voice, pasting what he hoped was a lazy smile on his face.

  She lifted her chin. “Because I wanted to know what it felt like to do exactly as I pleased.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Pardon?”

  She pushed the blanket down to her lap. “I don’t expect you to understand. You’re a man. You couldn’t possibly know what it feels like to have little recourse in life. That’s why I wanted to know why you became a runner.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t follow.”

  Regina stretched her arms high above her head. “I’ve never been able to choose what I do in life. I’ve had my whole existence planned for me since the moment I was born. It fascinates me to know some people can actually do as they please. Like you. You wanted to become a lawman, so you did. I suppose I enjoy hearing about it. Wondering what it would be like to have that sort of freedom.”

  He narrowed his eyes on her. “What was planned for your life?”

  She shrugged. “Be a dutiful innocent, marry, produce little heirs. All of that.”

  “But you haven’t done it.”

  “Not yet. But it’s still expected of me. I cannot even marry the man of my own choosing. No. He has to have a title.”

  Daffin traced a knuckle along the windowpane, still watching her. He’d never considered how trapped someone like Regina must feel. “I always thought being a pampered lady would be the easiest life imaginable.”

  She sighed. “Easy in some ways, perhaps, but also incredibly unfulfilling. What use am I? What good do I do? That’s why I was so eager to help you determine if I was the target. That’s why Nicole wanted to be a Bow Street Runner and a spy.”

  Daffin rubbed his chin. “I never thought of it that way.”

  She glanced at her sleeping friend. She kept her voice low. “And that’s why I wanted to spend the night with you. I wanted it to be my choice. My decision. I wanted to know what it would be like to spend the night with a handsome man without having to marry him for the privilege.”

  “Privilege?” Daffin’s eyes widened.

  Regina met his gaze head-on. “I’m quite attracted to you, Daffin. That’s been no secret.”

  “I’m attracted to you, too,” he admitted. “And I am flattered, my lady, believe me. But I should not be the one—”

  Regina waved a hand in the air. “All my life my family has told me what I should and shouldn’t do. What rules I must follow. And I’ve lived by them. Mostly. Where’s it got me? Lonely. I thought if I could pick the man I’d give my virginity to, if I could choose you—you who made me feel special for a little while—the night would live in my memory forever.”

  His pulse picked up. He cleared his throat. “You should give your innocence to someone who…”

  “Loves me? Is that what you were going to say?” She gave a humorless laugh.

  Daffin didn’t know what he’d been about to say, exactly. “Someone special. Not me.” He glanced away, suddenly wishing they’d never begun this conversation.

  “You’re special to me, Daffin. You were since the moment I first saw you.”

  He stole another glance at her, as something warm and sweet crept into his chest.

  No one had ever told
him he was special before.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When the coaches pulled to a stop in front of the grand estate house that was Colchester Manor, Lady Harriet, Regina’s grandmother, came hurrying down the steps, wrapped in a giant gray cloak and a set of colorful woolen scarves.

  Daffin stuck out his head and scanned the area before nodding to the ladies that it was safe to alight.

  “Grandmama,” Regina called, allowing Daffin to help her down the coach steps. “You shouldn’t be out in this cold. Go back inside. We’re coming in.”

  “Nonsense,” Lady Harriet replied, her voice muffled under all the scarves. “I want to see you and Nicole safe and sound. I’ve been worried sick about you both.”

  Daffin helped Nicole down next and hurried the three women into the house, shouting commands to the coachmen, and scouring the area for any sign of someone who’d followed them or was watching.

  Their small party entered the foyer where Uncle Edward sat in his wheeled chair, waiting for them. The butler took everyone’s coats, hats, and gloves, while the duke and Lady Harriet greeted them all.

  “We’re so glad you’re here and safe,” Grandmama said, fluttering her handkerchief in front of her face. “I’ve been pacing this house for days. Haven’t I, Edward?”

  The duke nodded, and Regina crossed her arms over her chest. “Who told you there was anything to worry about?” she asked the older woman, her eyebrow arched.

  “I did,” the duke admitted. “I’ve been getting regular letters from Mark and Mr. Oakleaf here. You didn’t think I’d allow my remaining family to be in danger and not keep a close eye on the situation, did you?”

  “Yes, and then there was the story in the paper,” Lady Harriet said.

  “What paper?” Daffin asked.

  The duke pulled a folded bit of newspaper from his side. “This morning’s copy of the Times.”

  Daffin grabbed the newspaper and scanned the headline. “FAMOUS BOW STREET RUNNER SAVES LADY REGINA HAVERSHAM” it read. A quick perusal of the story, written by one Mr. H. J. Hancock, proved that they’d got most of the facts right.

  Daffin swore under his breath. “How does that man know everything I do?”

  “Who knows,” Uncle Edward replied, “but I’m certainly glad you were there, Mr. Oakleaf. It might have been a much different story if you hadn’t been.”

  Regina leaned down to kiss the old man on his papery cheek. “Don’t worry, Uncle Edward, we’re here now, and we’re safe.”

  “And the babe?” the duke asked, eyeing Nicole carefully.

  “Also safe,” Nicole replied with a wide smile, patting her belly.

  “Shall we all go into the salon for tea?” Lady Harriet nodded toward the green salon. “I have so many questions about how you’ve escaped a lunatic, not once but three times!”

  After they’d settled into the salon, Grandmama rang for tea. Regina launched into a much-tamed version of the story of the two near-accidents in the coach and the incident with the pistol. Nevertheless, Grandmama and the duke were quite vexed. Their eyes widened with worry, and they exchanged a fraught glance when they heard Daffin had been grazed with the bullet.

  “Thank you, Mr. Oakleaf, for taking such good care of my nieces. I owe you a great deal,” the duke said, lifting his chin and addressing Daffin directly.

  “On the contrary, your grace.” Daffin stood near the mantel, his unhurt forearm braced against it. “You owe me nothing. I was merely doing my job. I promised Grimaldi I’d take care of them.”

  Seated on the settee beside Nicole, Regina leaned forward and said, “Don’t let him fool you, Uncle Edward. Daffin needed stitches for his trouble.”

  “Egad!” Grandmama exclaimed, her ubiquitous handkerchief fluttering near her cheek.

  “A flesh wound, I assure you.” Daffin side-eyed Regina.

  She pressed her lips together to withhold a smile.

  “You’re here now and you’re safe.” Lady Harriet reached out and patted Regina on the knee. “Thank goodness. Now, let’s talk about something more pleasant.”

  “Ah, yes,” the duke said, the hint of a smile lighting his rheumy blue eyes. “I have a surprise for you, Regina.”

  “Ooh, I love surprises,” Regina replied with a bright smile. “What is it?”

  “I’ve invited the Earl of Dryden to Christmas dinner.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Daffin was walking around the perimeter of the house, checking all of the entrances and windows. He couldn’t shake the memory of Regina telling him he was special in the coach earlier. She thought he was special? She was wrong. He was hardly the type of man who should put his soiled hands on her. She didn’t know the truth about him. If she did, she wouldn’t want him to touch her.

  Bright laughter floated on the cold air. He glanced up to see Regina on the snow-covered lawn behind the manor house. She was alone and she appeared to be … building a snowman. She was bundled up in a red wool coat, white scarf, and black boots, a jaunty red wool cap on her head and white fur mittens on her hands. She looked bright and happy. She made him smile, though he couldn’t help but worry about her being outside alone.

  Daffin had strictly forbidden both ladies from going outside, but Regina had insisted upon getting some fresh air. Meanwhile, he was scouring the grounds for any sign of an intruder. So far, he’d found nothing. Hopefully they’d escaped London without the attacker being any the wiser, but Daffin refused to let down his guard until he knew for certain.

  He changed course and headed in Regina’s direction. “What are you doing?” he called to her.

  She turned to look at him and her smile widened. “What does it look like?”

  He pursed his lips and came to a stop next to her and her creation. “Building a snowman?”

  “On the contrary. She is a snowwoman. Can you not tell from her eyelashes?” She batted her own.

  Daffin peered at the short, black, vertical stripes above the snowperson’s eyes. He poked at them with a gloved finger. “Eyelashes? What are they made from?”

  “Licorice,” Regina replied, her eyes sparkling with delight. “I got it from Cook. She always has black licorice at Christmastide.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her. She was obviously pleased with her task. She’d seemed happier since they’d arrived. “You grew up here, didn’t you?”

  She kept her gaze focused on her work. “Yes. After my parents died, my uncle became my guardian. Grandmama came back here and moved into the dower house to watch over me.”

  Daffin turned back to look at the enormous manor house. “It must have been quite a life, living in an estate like this.”

  She stuck a carrot in the center of the snowwoman’s round white head to make her nose. “It’s the only home I know. I barely remember my life before my parents’ accident.”

  Daffin understood that sentiment. Sometimes his life before his mother’s death seemed more like a dream than reality. He tugged on his gloves. The wind was getting colder. The protective part of him wanted to usher Regina inside where she would be safe and warm.

  “As for the snowwoman,” Regina continued. “It’s a tradition for me at Christmastide. I’ve been doing it since the first year I came to live here.” She glanced around. “I must admit I’ve been looking over my shoulder this year. I feel safe with you here, however.” She gave him a tentative smile.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Daffin replied. Keeping her safe was his first priority, but he’d begun to look forward to their talks, too. He nodded to her creation. “Snowwomen are your tradition. Do you have any others?”

  “Our family has a tradition of trading small gifts on Christmas Eve. Nothing extravagant.”

  Daffin stared off into the copse of trees several yards away. “My mother and I gave each other gifts at Christmastide, too.” He’d never admitted that to anyone before. It was getting easier and easier to share things with Regina, but the memory still made his throat ache. He shook hi
s head. “What sorts of gifts do you give each other?”

  She stepped back to squint at the snowwoman’s nose, adjusted the carrot a bit to the left, and sighed. “One of my favorites was a tiny frosted gingerbread man Uncle Edward gave me when I was still a girl. I ate it so quickly no one else had a chance to see it. Grandmama laughed for hours.” Regina tilted her head to the side and blinked at him. “What was your favorite gift?”

  A lump formed in Daffin’s throat. He scrubbed the back of his glove against his forehead. “A dagger. My mother gave me one. That Christmas Eve before she died. It was the last gift I received.”

  Regina swallowed. “From anyone? Ever?”

  Daffin nodded once. His chest felt tight.

  Regina stepped toward him and put a mitten on his shoulder. “Oh, Daffin. I’m so sorry.”

  He shook his head and forced joviality back into his voice. “Tell me, what do you want for Christmas this year, Regina?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “What if I told you I wanted to learn more about you?”

  He shook his head. “I suppose that’s an easy enough gift to give. What would you like to know?”

  “Where did you grow up?” she asked.

  “In London.”

  She laughed and shook her head again. “Yes, I’d gathered that, but what part?”

  He dug his boot into the packed snow and took a deep breath. “Belgravia.”

  A slight flash of surprise flared in Regina’s eyes when she glanced at him. Belgravia was an affluent part of the city. Perhaps not as affluent as Mayfair, but a close second.

  “Belgravia?” she echoed. “How did we not know each other?”

  “I was only in Belgravia until my mother died. She wasn’t a part of Society.” Officially.

  “Why not?”

  No. There was no way he was going to explain his mother’s place on the fringes of Society, no matter how curious Regina was. “It’s a long story and I have a personal question for you now.”

  “Very well, I suppose it’s only fair. What’s your question?”

  “Do you truly intend to marry Lord Dryden?”

  Her smile faded. “What choice do I have? There is a considerable shortage of eligible bachelors in Surrey at Christmastide.” She was trying to be funny, but Daffin didn’t laugh.