A Very Scandalous Fairbanks Christmas (Those Very Bad Fairbanks #14)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

C hristmas evening at Fairbanks Manor was a riot of warmth, joy, and laughter. The manor brimmed with life, the sound of family and love echoing through its halls. Earlier in the day, they had made a grand procession of carriages into town for the Christmas service. The Fairbanks family, known for their sheer numbers and infamous reputation, had caused quite the spectacle. Heads had turned, whispers had followed, and yet Caroline had only smiled, for she was surrounded by those she loved most in the world.

Now, as the evening stretched on, Fairbanks Manor was alive with celebration. Gifts had been exchanged in a chaotic flurry of ribbons and wrapping paper, filling the air with laughter and delighted exclamations. Lily had shrieked with joy upon receiving her wooden horse and was already chattering excitedly about trying to ride her real pony again. Fanny had mouthed a grateful thank you to Caroline, who grinned before exchanging an intimate smile with Daniel. Caroline had received a stunning set of leather-bound novels from Julia and a delicate pearl bracelet from her mother, while her younger sisters had all but shrieked in delight at their gifts.

Dinner had been a feast so grand she doubted she would ever eat again. The long dining table had groaned under the weight of roasted turkey, honey-glazed ham, steaming bowls of root vegetables, and the most decadent plum pudding dripping with brandy sauce. The meal had lasted for hours, filled with witty conversations and fond teasing.

Now, outside in the crisp night air, another bonfire roared, casting golden light onto the snow-covered lawns. The frozen lake beyond the manor glistened, reflecting the flames as family and guests glided across the ice.

Caroline stood at the edge of the bonfire’s glow, her hands tucked into her muff, her heart light and heavy all at once. Her mother and siblings had arrived just after the church service, much to her delight. Now, her younger sisters were shrieking with glee, pelting each other with snowballs, while Lily dodged between them, giggling.

A soft laugh rumbled in the distance, deep and rich. Caroline’s pulse tripped.

She turned her head slightly, her gaze unerringly finding Daniel where he stood speaking with Rannulf. Daniel was laughing, his head tipped back, his broad shoulders relaxed in a way she had rarely seen. His hair was tousled by the wind, and the crisp white of his cravat stood out against the dark wool of his greatcoat. The firelight played across his strong, handsome features, illuminating the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the curve of his sensual mouth.

Caroline whipped her gaze away, heat blooming across her cheeks.

Tomorrow, he would leave.

And she might never see him again.

Her stomach twisted unpleasantly, the weight of that truth settling deep.

A soft hum of amusement drew her attention, and she turned to find Fanny standing beside her, wrapped in a thick, fur-lined cloak, her blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

“What is that look in your eyes, Caroline?” Fanny asked, tilting her head slightly. “You seem as though you are pondering something very dangerous.”

Caroline sighed, offering a wry smile. “I was thinking about wickedness.”

Fanny arched a delicate brow, intrigued. “And?”

“And the rewards and consequences that follow.”

A knowing smile played on Fanny’s lips. “Are you speaking generally? Or is there a particular temptation that has your thoughts so preoccupied?”

Caroline said nothing, but her gaze flickered, betraying her thoughts.

Fanny followed her stare, and her expression softened. “Sometimes,” she murmured, “we must follow our hearts, even when we think it is leading us toward scandal.”

Caroline let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “That is easy for you to say. You married your viscount and are utterly adored.”

Fanny sighed dramatically. “Yes, well, I wasn’t always so lucky, was I? You know very well I made quite the fool of myself before Simon and I were wed. We are Fairbanks, Caroline. We are made for grand, messy, passionate love stories, not tidy little courtships with appropriate gentlemen.”

Caroline’s heart squeezed painfully. A grand, messy, passionate love story.

Her gaze drifted once more to Daniel, who was now speaking with Colin. His expression was serious again, his brows drawn slightly together, as though his thoughts had turned inward.

He had been different these past few days.

Or perhaps it was she who had been different.

She had been reckless with him. She had let herself be vulnerable in a way she had never been before, showing him pieces of herself no other man had ever glimpsed. And now, she was left with this aching, gnawing uncertainty.

Did it mean nothing to him? Did he feel even an ounce of this wretched longing that had taken root in her chest?

Fanny watched her, perceptive as ever. “You could always write to him.”

Caroline let out a small laugh. “A letter? And say what?”

Fanny grinned. “Why, that you are utterly ruined for all other men, of course.”

Caroline groaned. “You are impossible.”

“I am happily married,” Fanny teased, nudging her. “And I believe in love, even when it terrifies us.”

Caroline swallowed hard, her throat tightening. Because it did terrify her. The way she felt about Daniel … the way she had never felt this for anyone else.

A sharp gust of wind sent a shiver down her spine, and she pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders.

Fanny’s eyes sparkled. “You are cold. You should go inside.”

Caroline shook her head. “Not yet.”

Not when this might be the last time she saw him.

She watched as Daniel bid Rannulf goodnight and turned toward the house, his strides long and sure. She had no doubt he would be leaving at first light.

Perhaps she should say something.

Perhaps she should … follow her heart, as Fanny suggested.

But she remained frozen in place, watching him disappear into the manor.

Tomorrow, he would be gone. And she had no idea if she would ever see him again. Her hands clenched into the fabric of her cloak, her heart a tangled mess of longing and regret.

Maybe … just maybe … she had been a little too careful after all.

Daniel folded another shirt and placed it into his valise, his movements precise, mechanical. He had long since perfected the act of packing without thought. He should have felt nothing about departing Penporth.

And yet.

His hands stilled over the next item, his jaw tightening as a thought slipped unbidden into his mind. Caroline . Would he see her again? She had not sought him out, had not asked for a moment alone with him, though there had been something in her eyes when he’d announced his departure at dinner. A shadow that had flickered before she masked it with a bright smile.

It had been the same smile she wore all evening, laughing with her cousins, playing in the snow, chasing Lily when the child pelted her with a well-aimed snowball. He had watched her, unable to look away, feeling something inside him shift and settle into unfamiliar longing. He didn’t know what to do with it, didn’t want to know.

Damn it all .

He scrubbed a hand over his face, his fingers dragging through his hair. He should not be thinking about her. And yet … he wanted to see her. To bid her farewell, to hear her voice one last time before he left Penporth behind. Before he left her behind.

A knock sounded at the door.

His breath stilled in his chest, something curling tight in his gut. He knew who it was before he even turned.

God, he hoped it was her.

Daniel strode forward, his movements almost reluctant, his pulse inexplicably quickening. He hesitated, then grasped the handle and pulled the door open.

When Daniel opened the door, he was utterly unprepared for the vision before him. Her golden, unbound hair rippled in wondrous waves down her back and over the front of her nightgown. It hid her figure completely, but that denial of flesh only tempted his baser urges more. How much longer could he resist the temptation of her?

She met his gaze, startlingly direct, her emerald eyes holding no hesitation, no coyness. Finally, she cleared her throat, tilting her chin up in that familiar defiant way that always made him want to kiss her senseless. Then she lifted a hand to his cheek, her touch featherlight, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against his skin.

“I want you,” she said softly, each word weighted with intent.

Her green eyes searched his, flickering with emotions she had not yet voiced. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching, thick with all the words they had not said.

“I have no other expectations other than … wickedness. I have no expectation other than tonight.”

His breath turned shallow, his entire body going taut at her words, at the raw honesty in them. He closed his eyes briefly, knowing that if he kissed her now, if he pulled her into his arms and allowed himself to drown in her, he might never let go. He opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto hers, the space between them charged with an intensity that stole the very air from the room.

“Caroline—”

She swallowed, her throat working, and then, slowly, she went up on her toes, pressing the softest, most delicate kiss against his lips. It was not the wild, untamed passion of their previous encounters. It was something deeper. Something that shattered him completely.

And Daniel knew, in that moment, that leaving her might be the hardest thing he had ever done.