Chapter 15
Have yourself a merry little Christmas.
As the events of the previous day had been so overwhelming, Meg never got the opportunity to do any Christmas shopping. This being the case, she had to endure being spoiled shamelessly by the rest of the family, without being able to do a thing to reciprocate.
“Oh, just you wait until next Christmas,” she said, torn between laughter and tears as she unwrapped a sumptuous blue cashmere shawl from Della. “I shall make you all positively sick with my generosity, and then you shall see!”
“I can’t wait,” Della replied, quite unrepentant.
“Don’t be so foolish, child,” the dowager said impatiently. “Nat tells us you hardly celebrated Christmas before now, whereas we spoil ourselves and each other every year. It pleases us to see you happy, so you must indulge us and take it with good grace.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Meg said, and then hurriedly corrected herself upon seeing the old lady scowl. “I mean, yes, Gee-Gee.”
“That’s better,” she said comfortably. “Now, then. Come here and show me those gewgaws my grandson gave you.”
Meg did as she was asked, obediently getting to her feet and crouching before her so the dowager could inspect the delicate diamond and pearl necklace and earrings Nat had given her.
“Lovely, just the thing for a young bride,” she said approvingly. “It’s not until you’re old that you can pour the entire contents of your jewellery box over yourself, but I enjoy a bit of glitter,” she added defiantly, showing off an array of sparkling rings.
“You’re not old, Gee-Gee, so stop giving yourself airs,” Nat said with a laugh.
She snorted, then narrowed her eyes. “Not that I mean to pry, but just where did you get such a lovely piece as that in these parts, Nathaniel?”
Nat gave her a stern look and avoided Hawkney’s eye. “Oh, something the reverend said to me. Friend of a friend. A bit of good fortune is all,” he said evasively.
Gee-Gee gave a bark of delighted laughter but said nothing more.
Dinner was a lavish affair, which might have been expected, and Meg enjoyed speaking to her cousin, learning more about the family and hardly noticing as Nat plied her with food and wine.
By late afternoon, she was sleepy and content and ready to put her feet up by the fire, but the dowager would have none of it, insisting everyone must play charades, even the duke.
Meg thought watching the superior Duke of Hawkney trying to express The Heroine, or Adventures of a Fair Romance Reader, might have been the funniest thing she had ever seen.
Nat certainly thought so and nearly laughed himself sick.
Thankfully, Hawkney took it in good spirits and looked almost relaxed as he came and sat down beside them.
“Well done, Hawk. I shall never forget that performance as long as I live,” Nat said, slapping his cousin on the back.
Hawkney winced, but did not protest. “Thank you,” he said coolly.
“By the by, I forgot to give you this,” Nat added nonchalantly, handing the duke a badly wrapped parcel. It was small and lumpy, and the duke regarded it with misgiving.
“Is this one of your jokes, Nat?” he asked warily.
“No, I swear. More for old times' sake,” Nat replied with a smile.
Hawkney frowned and tugged at the ribbon, falling silent as he regarded the crudely worked wooden dog. “It’s Cato,” he said, a smile tugging at his usually severe features.
“That’s right,” Nat said with a laugh. “I made it the last Christmas we had here. I must have been sixteen, I think, but then we had that scrap and… well, I never gave it to you. Better late than never, eh?”
The duke turned the rather ugly little dog in his hands and said nothing for a long moment. “He was a faithful friend,” he said softly. “I still miss him, and… and you too, Nat. Thank you for this.”
Meg’s heart ached as she guessed how hard it was for the duke to say such things, certainly in front of people.
“You’re welcome,” Nat said awkwardly, before adding in a rush, “and… if it comes to that, you were a good friend, Hawk. I’m sorry that we… well, whatever we did.”
“We grew up,” Hawkney said wryly. “It happens to the best of us.”
“No,” Nat said, shaking his head, his expression grave. “Not me.”
Hawkney laughed, a proper laugh that reached his eyes as he turned and grinned at Nat. “No, Nathaniel. Not you.”
Though everyone else had gone to bed, Meg lingered in the parlour. As much as she was eager for tomorrow, she was not quite ready to go to sleep, to end a day that had been so filled with joy.
“I thought I might find you here,” Nat said, coming into the room and finding her standing by the fire.
She smiled, leaning into him as he stood behind her, wrapping her in his arms.
“Have you had a good Christmas, love?” he asked her softly.
Meg laughed. “I don’t have words enough to express how wonderful it has been. I feel like I might burst or cry, or sing even—and truly, you don’t want that, I have a dreadful voice,” she said apologetically.
Nat snorted with amusement. “I don’t think that’s cause enough to call off the wedding. I shall endure it manfully.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she replied, turning in his arms and gazing at him. “Are you real, Nathaniel Ashford? Can my life truly be this wonderful?”
“Yes, and yes,” he said, bending to kiss her nose.
“I’m here to make up for all those years of solitude, for that girl who dreamed of parties and seeing the world.
You deserve every bit of this, Meg, and I am more grateful than you’ll ever know that I’m the one who gets to show you the world, to escort you to balls and parties, and to share every part of my life with you. ”
Meg sighed, laying her head on his shoulder.
The scent of the greenery that decorated the fireplace surrounded them, the crackle of the fire both soothing and cheerful, and Meg spared a thought for her parents.
Had her mother never known she’d be welcomed home again, that she might have been forgiven?
Had her father never thought to tell them they had a granddaughter, or considered that Meg might be greeted with warmth and have a new world opened up to her?
She did not know, could never know, and did not wish to apportion blame or feel regret.
Her father had done his best for her, and she had not been unhappy.
He had been a kind man, if rather selfish, but he had lost the love of his life, and what might that do to a person?
Now that she loved too, she could only feel compassion for what he had suffered.
“Penny for them?” Nat said, stroking her hair.
“I was thinking about my parents,” she replied. “I believe Papa would be happy for me, and I am sure my mother would be thrilled that her family has accepted me so readily. It’s still such a lot to take in.”
“Well, there’s time now, and we’ll visit them in the spring if you wish to, and you can discover them for yourself.”
Meg nodded, then smothered a yawn. “I suppose I had better get some beauty sleep. I expect Betty will scold me for having stayed up so late, but it’s been such a perfect day.”
“Tomorrow will be perfect too, Meg.”
She looked up at him, feeling that strange combination of heat, excitement, and anticipation stir deep inside her. “I know.”
“Come, then.”
Nat took her hand and led her out of the parlour, the entrance hall was empty now, no sign of any servants, and Nat paused beside the staircase.
“What is it?” Meg asked him curiously.
“Look up.”
She looked up, giving a soft laugh as she noticed the mistletoe above them.
“Oh. I see. Are you about to take a liberty, Mr Ashford?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Just a small one, but I give you fair warning, love. Tomorrow, I shall have them all, every one, to the full extent of my abilities,” he told her gravely, before pulling her into his arms.
The kiss was like nothing Meg had ever experienced before, his arms holding her so tightly, his mouth upon hers urgent and demanding.
It seemed to be a promise of everything they would share, of everything he felt for her, and Meg could do nothing but respond in kind.
She reached up, twining her arms about his neck, pressing closer, feeling the softness of her body crushed against his harder form.
Nat let out a soft groan and the sound trilled down her spine, making her want to carry on, to encourage more such tantalising sounds from him, but he broke the kiss and took a step back. He was breathing hard, his eyes glittering in the dim light of the moonlit entrance hall.
“Well,” he said, his voice a little unsteady as he tugged at his waistcoat, smoothing out any wrinkles. “Tomorrow cannot come soon enough. Get to bed, Meg. The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner it will be tomorrow.”
Meg looked at him cautiously. “Aren’t you going to see me to my room?”
“No.”
“Well, another kiss goodnight, then?”
“No!”
“Nat!” she protested, but he turned on his heel and walked away.
“Good night, Meg. Go away, love, please. For my sanity.”
“Oh, very well,” she said with a sigh, chuckling as she made her way up the stairs.