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

Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

T hree months and seventeen days had passed since he had last seen her, and Daniel stood in the shadows of the terrace, his gaze fixed on Caroline Fairbanks. The distance between them had done nothing to diminish his feelings for her. In truth, it had only sharpened them, turning longing into something raw and unrelenting. His hunger for her had not faded—it had grown, deepened, until it gnawed at him, a relentless ache that refused to be ignored.

Every day, he had written to her. At first, the letters had been simple—an update on his day, an idle mention of something that had reminded him of her. But soon, they had become something more, each word spilling with the truth he had tried to deny. Yet he had never sent them.

Tonight, Caroline was a vision of loveliness, draped in a gown of pale gold that shimmered under the glow of the chandeliers. The delicate lace at her décolletage enhanced the graceful slope of her shoulders, and her golden curls were swept up, save for a few wisps that framed her face, making her look softer, more vulnerable.

He had missed her fiercely.

These last months had been an exercise in discipline. He had buried himself in work, focusing on Parliament, pushing through reforms, anything to keep his mind off the woman who haunted his dreams. And yet, here he was, standing in the dark like a man starved, unable to look away.

She stood at the edge of the ballroom, apart from the laughter and whirling dancers. Though she smiled politely at those who approached, there was a distance in her expression, a loneliness that tugged at something inside him. He had been watching her for the better part of an hour, and not a single gentleman had asked her to dance.

“Good God, you are watching her as if you mean to devour her,” came the wry voice of his friend, Camden.

Daniel didn’t glance away.

“Why not take her as your mistress?” Camden continued, taking a sip of his brandy. “She is ruined for marriage. And you clearly still want her.”

“She is not a lady meant to be any man’s mistress, but a woman who should be adored, respected and revered. If I cannot give her that, I am unworthy.”

Ignoring his friend’s shock, Daniel emptied his glass of whisky, set it aside, and stepped forward. He descended the stairs, his movements deliberate. The chatter in the ballroom softened as he crossed the floor, but he paid no heed to the ripple of whispers.

Caroline saw him approach and gasped, her green eyes widening in a way that made his chest tighten. She looked utterly helpless, her lips parting as if she might say something, but no words came. Her mother, standing beside her, spoke behind her fan, her expression one of tight displeasure.

Caroline wanted to be anywhere but here.

He stopped before them, meeting her gaze and allowing himself a moment to drink her in before speaking.

“Miss Fairbanks.” His voice was smooth, measured. “Would you do me the honor of this waltz?”

The tension in the ballroom thickened. A lady near them gasped softly. Her mother stiffened beside her even as her eyes glowed with hope.

Caroline hesitated only a second before she curtseyed. “I would be honored, my lord.”

He extended his hand, and when she placed hers in his, a jolt of sensation shot through him. He led her to the center of the ballroom as the orchestra struck up a new tune, the melody swelling through the air. Drawing her into position, he placed one hand at the small of her back, the other enclosing her fingers within his grasp. She felt delicate beneath his touch, yet there was strength in the way she held herself, as if she were fighting against every emotion that threatened to surface.

They began to move.

She fit against him as perfectly as he remembered, her body gliding with effortless grace, following his lead without hesitation. Every step, every twirl was an exquisite agony, reminding him of how much he had wanted her, how much he still wanted her.

“Why did you ask me to dance?” she whispered, her voice almost lost in the strains of the waltz.

“Why do you think?” he murmured back, his grip on her tightening slightly.

Her lashes lowered, but he caught the tremble in her breath. He watched her lips, remembered their taste, their softness, and his hunger flared.

He pulled her closer, propriety be damned, letting the world fade until there was only her, only this dance, only the undeniable pull between them.

“You shouldn’t have asked,” she said softly, but there was no conviction in her voice.

His lips quirked in a ghost of a smile. “And yet, here we are.”

His voice softened further. “I have missed you every day these last few weeks. And every night, I have dreamed of you.”

Caroline’s breath hitched, her eyes pooling with unshed tears. “What is the point of telling me these things?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He searched her gaze, desperation coiling in his chest. “Tell me, Caroline. Do you long for me in any regard? Was it the same for you or did I vanish from your thoughts within a few days.”

Something flickered in her eyes—pain, desire, longing—before she suddenly wrenched herself from his embrace. Gasps erupted around them as she turned and fled through the crowd, whispers rising in her wake.

Daniel’s jaw tightened. He could already sense the beginnings of another scandal. Without a word, he discreetly left the ballroom through a different entrance, his path leading him through the music room and into the gardens. The cool night air barely registered as he strode forward, his pulse hammering.

Then he saw her.

Caroline was hurrying along the garden path, her delicate shoulders shaking as she clutched her skirts, trying to escape him, trying to escape whatever emotions had just surfaced between them. Regret twisted inside him, mingling with an overwhelming sense of love that almost crippled him. He could not let her go. Not again.

With quick strides, he rushed toward her.

Caroline rushed through the ballroom and outside, her chest heaving, tears slipping unchecked down her cheeks. The cool night air hit her, but it did nothing to quell the storm inside her. She could hardly breathe, her heart pounding against her ribs as she fled into the gardens, desperate to escape the turmoil Daniel had stirred within her.

How she had missed and longed for him.

The sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel behind her made her pause. She hastily brushed at her damp cheeks and turned sharply, already knowing who had followed her.

Daniel.

He stood there, breathing hard, his gaze burning into her. Moonlight bathed his strong features, and for the first time in months, she allowed herself to truly look at him, to drink in the man she had loved and lost.

“I have been a damn fool,” he said, his voice low and rough with emotion.

She swallowed hard. “What do you mean?”

He took a step closer. “I thought I could forget you. I thought if I buried myself in my work, in Parliament, in anything that would distract me, the ache in my chest would fade.” His hands clenched at his sides. “But it didn’t. It only grew stronger.”

She remained silent, waiting, not daring to believe where his words might lead.

His voice softened. “I had this grand plan that I would court you properly, that all of society would see how much I wanted you in the way you deserved.” He let out a rough breath, shaking his head. “And in doing so, I wasted precious time.”

Caroline stared at him, her lips trembling. “Yes, you have,” she finally said, her voice thick with emotion.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips, but it quickly faded. “The time apart has only shown me how much you mean to me. Every day, I longed for you. Every day, I thought of your kisses, the feel of you in my arms. Every day, I waited, thinking these feelings would wane.” He swallowed hard, his voice raw with truth. “But they didn’t. They only grew.”

She clenched her fists at her sides, torn between love and the fear of having her heart shattered again. “Daniel …”

He took another step forward, his eyes holding hers with quiet intensity. “Give me a chance to make this right. I love you , Caroline. Desperately.”

Her throat tightened. “I love you,” she whispered, the words slipping past her lips before she could stop them. “But I will not be your mistress. Even if the pain of separation haunts me for years, I would not be your mistress.”

Something fierce flashed across his face, and before she could react, he reached for her, cupping her face between his warm, strong hands. His mouth found hers, stealing her breath, his kiss deep and filled with all the longing of the past four months.

He pulled back just enough to murmur against her lips, “Not my mistress. My wife.”

A sharp gasp escaped her, her hands gripping his arms for support as her heart pounded wildly. “Your wife?”

“My lover,” he continued, his voice like a vow. “My dearest friend. My countess. My dearest beloved.”

He reluctantly lowered his hand and reached into his pocket, retrieving a bundle of letters tied with a deep blue ribbon. Daniel held them out to her, his fingers tightening slightly around the packet before he released them into her trembling grasp.

With unsteady hands, Caroline took them, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at the familiar, bold scrawl on the front of each envelope, unable to believe that he had written to her. That he had held on to these words instead of sending them.

Slowly, she untied the ribbon, the silk slipping through her fingers like water, and randomly selected a letter. She broke the seal, unfolded the parchment, and tilted it toward the lantern’s glow, her eyes quickly scanning the first few lines

Dearest Caroline,

It has only been a day since I departed Penporth for my estates, and I already miss your smile. I foolishly looked up at the night sky, wondering if you were perhaps watching the stars too, thinking of our time on the branch. I had never once believed in fanciful things, but damnation, I find myself wanting to now. Perhaps it is your influence, or perhaps it is that I cannot forget you. Either way, I do not regret it.

Daniel

Her heart squeezed, and her vision blurred as she clutched the letter to her chest before reaching for another.

Dearest Caroline,

It has been seventeen days, and you haunt my dreams and my waking moments. Today, I wrote to my sister and made plans to visit her in the spring. I wish you to be by my side and meet her. Would you like to see Italy, to walk through the vineyards and feel the warmth of the sun on your face? Would you like to visit Rome and stand before the Colosseum, knowing that I am beside you? I should not be thinking such thoughts, yet I cannot seem to stop myself.

Daniel

A choked sob tore from her throat as she fumbled for another letter, her pulse roaring in her ears.

Dearest Caroline,

For the last few days, I have been working on motions to introduce a new bill in the House, and yet my thoughts stray to you. I find myself wishing you were here, curled on the chaise in my library, reading as the fire crackled beside us. I imagine you listening to my arguments, challenging my stance, pushing me to defend my reasoning. I wonder what you would think, what you would say. Would you smile at me as you did that night beneath the stars? Would you place your hand on my arm, drawing me back from the madness of politics with a simple touch? I miss you. There is no other way to say it.

Daniel

Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, her chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven breaths. Her emotions swelled and burst, a rush of love so intense she could hardly contain it. With a broken laugh, she pressed the letters against her heart and turned to Daniel.

Then, without thought, without hesitation, she launched herself into his arms, sobbing and laughing at the same time. He caught her instantly, his arms closing around her like a vice, one hand cradling the back of her head as if he never wanted to let go.

“I love you,” she whispered through her tears, pressing her face into the warmth of his chest. “Oh, Daniel, I love you.”

“Thank Christ,” he said gruffly. “Marry me, my love.”

More tears welled in her eyes, but this time, they were not from sorrow. Joy surged through her, fierce and overwhelming. A laugh bubbled past her lips, mixing with a sob as she threw her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him.

“Yes,” she whispered before kissing him again, deep and desperate, pouring every ounce of love she had for him into the press of her lips.

His arms locked around her, holding her close as he kissed her with equal passion, as if he would never let her go again.

And she knew, without a doubt, that he never would.