Chapter 9
JOHN
The morning of Christmas Eve, John paced the length of his chamber, fighting the familiar darkness that threatened to cloud his mind.
Maddie’s absence at breakfast and then again at lunch yesterday had hit him even harder than he’d expected.
But it had given him time to decide what he must do.
How he might make things right between them.
He’d have to bare his entire soul to her and hope that she would find it in her heart to give them a real chance.
He’d escaped to his chamber after yesterday’s luncheon, losing himself in his journal. It was the only way he could keep himself from getting lost inside of his own sadness again. And it was in that reflection that he realized the only way that she might understand.
Today was not a day for sadness, he told himself. He recognized the familiar pull of melancholy—the same darkness that drove him to the Continent and kept him away for years. The same darkness that nearly destroyed him once before.
John turned from the window, clenching his fists. He’d grown familiar with the signs over the years. Now he knew when his mind started to dwell on the negative thoughts. Not today. Not when Maddie was here, under the same roof, breathing the same air. And not when there was still hope for them.
The weak winter light caught on the worn leather binding of his journal, which lay open on his writing desk. Confessions, regrets, and moments of both darkness and light that he’d never had the courage to share. Until now. His heart thundered in his chest at the prospect of what he was about to do.
He ran his fingers over the package that he’d wrapped last night for Maddie. No more running, and no more pretending that he didn’t face a constant struggle that he’d clawed his way to overcome.
“My lord?” His valet appeared at the doorway. “The duchess has requested everyone gather in the main hall. They’re preparing to collect the holiday greenery and decorations.”
John nodded, straightening his waistcoat. “Thank you. I’ll be down directly.”
As his valet departed, John picked up the wrapped journal, his fingers lingering on the simple brown paper covering.
Everything he was, everything he had felt, everything he had become—it was all contained within these pages.
To give it to Maddie was to make himself completely vulnerable in a way he never had before.
The thought terrified him, and yet, he knew it was the only way forward.
With one deep breath, he tucked the package into his coat pocket and headed downstairs, each step feeling both impossibly heavy and strangely freeing. He hid the package and then joined the others outside.
The afternoon flew by in a blur of festive activity.
Rosina had marshaled the household with her usual efficiency, sending groups off to different parts of the property to gather holly, evergreen boughs, and winter berries.
The estate rang with laughter and snippets of Christmas carols as groups competed to find the most perfect decorations.
Even the servants seemed caught up in the infectious cheer, their faces alight with the simple joy of the season.
John found himself with a small party heading toward the west woods, and his heart jumped when he spotted Maddie among them, her gaze carefully avoiding his.
She had emerged from her chamber after all, wrapped in a deep burgundy cloak that made her skin glow like ivory against the winter landscape.
Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her breath forming delicate clouds in the crisp air.
Despite her deliberate distance, he caught glimpses of her smile as she joined in the Christmas merriment.
She laughed as one of the younger guests crowned her with a circlet of holly, the dark green leaves a striking contrast against her chestnut hair.
For a fleeting moment, it was as if the years fell away, and he could almost imagine them celebrating their fifth Christmas together, rather than their first one apart.
How he wished they could have spent all those Christmas mornings together, sharing traditions and creating new ones of their own.
That simple happiness could have been theirs.
As the day wore on, John carried countless armfuls of pine and holly inside, where servants and guests worked together to transform the already grand home into a festive wonderland.
The scent of freshly cut pine mingled with spiced cider and roasting chestnuts from the kitchens, filling the air with the essence of the holiday.
It had been one of his and Rosina’s favorite times of the year.
The excitement had always made him feel so warm and grounded, especially since he got to be home from school, spending the season with his family and frequently with Ryan.
The memory of his best friend brought a bit of sadness, but he found joy in the memory, too.
He recalled the first time he’d caught his best friend with Rosina beneath a kissing ball, and he knew they’d marry. Even before they had admitted as much to him.
As he watched the joyful chaos around him, John realized how desperately he missed being part of something so warm and genuine.
These were the moments meant to be shared.
He and Maddie deserved these pleasures, these cherished traditions that bound people together through the years.
They both deserved the chance to replace hurt from the past with joyous memories.
Five years ago, from this very day, he’d told Maddie he loved her for the first time beneath a kissing ball. A scandalous tradition for his family, it would seem. But things had been much simpler then.
John watched her now across the main hall as she helped arrange candles along the mantelpiece. The simple grace of her movements made his chest ache with longing. She reached up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Even that simple act kept him enamored with her.
“The holly goes along the banister, Brother,” Rosina said, appearing beside him with an exasperated sigh. “You have something planned, don’t you?”
“I might,” he said, casting her a small smile that didn’t quite hide the trepidation beneath.
His sister’s eyes softened, seeing what he tried to conceal. She took the holly from his hands and then wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Whatever happens, John, you shall always have me.”
“Thank you,” he whispered against her ear, grateful for her unwavering support. He shouldn’t have left her behind all those years ago either, to grieve on her own. He would be eternally thankful that she’d found James and that he loved her as much as he did.
His sister pulled back, and he saw the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes before she blinked them away, continuing to rally the troops to finish decorating.
The afternoon dissolved into evening, and the entire house had been fully decorated. It truly was a beautiful sight. So festive, and the joyous energy from those at the party almost eclipsed the anxiety he felt about what he must say to Maddie.
Everyone had departed to freshen themselves and dress for supper, foiling his plans again to catch Maddie alone where he might have the chance to give her his gift.
Dinner was much the same, and he needed to ensure that they wouldn’t be overheard by the other guests they spoke.
Maddie was seated beside Ashworth again, and he did his best to keep himself from feeling irritated by it.
He had forgone any wine or spirits all day, wanting to keep his wits about him for what he needed to say.
After supper, Rosina seated herself at the pianoforte. She began to play, the familiar notes of “The First Noel” filling the drawing room. Everyone gathered around the piano to sing, their voices blending in the age-old carols that connected them to Christmases past and future.
The room glowed with warmth. Candles flickered on every surface, including three on the mantel that he learned were in memory of Ryan and each of the duke’s parents. A tradition that the duke and his younger brothers had started. John fought his emotion, focusing on the rest of the scene.
A massive Yule log crackled in the hearth, sending occasional sparks dancing upward like winter fairies. Everywhere, couples clung together and joy radiated from the group.
John stood at the edge of the room, his eyes fixed on Maddie. She sang along with the others, her voice clear and sweet, unaware of how each note pierced him. How he imagined she sang only for him. This—this moment of pure Christmas joy—was what he longed for all those years away.
His eyes never left Maddie, and she must have felt as much, because she glanced in his direction. When their gazes met, they held, frozen in time, as if it were only them in the room.
He nodded his head toward the door, encouraging her to follow him.
John wasn’t certain she would do so, but then she slowly backed away from the large group and crept toward him. He forced himself to keep breathing as she approached, her expression guarded yet curious. He departed through the doorway, trusting that she would continue to follow behind him.
The music faded behind them when they reached the hallway.
John guided her toward a small alcove tucked between two tall windows.
Like the rest of the house, it had been transformed for Christmas.
A garland of pine and holly framed the space, and a single candle burned in a silver holder, casting long shadows across the walls.
“What’s going on?” Maddie asked when they stopped.
John reached behind one of the heavy curtains and retrieved a package wrapped in simple brown paper and tied with string.
“What is this?”
He didn’t answer her and instead held the package out to her. “Open it.”
She took the parcel from him and the vision of her holding his journal almost took his breath away. The person who he loved most in the world held his most treasured possession. There was a question in her eyes as she looked between him and the leather-bound journal.
“That is my journal.” The words caught in his throat. “I’ve been writing in it for the past few years when I needed to get thoughts out of my head. And even more intensely these past few days.”
Maddie stared at the gift, understanding dawning in her eyes. “John . . .”
“I need you to read it.” He swallowed hard, steadying himself to speak the words he’d rehearsed. “All of it. The good and the bad. Everything I’ve thought and felt but have been too much of a coward to say.”
She stared back at him, her expression unreadable, but her fingers tightened around the journal as if she couldn’t quite decide whether to clutch it close or return it to him.
“Why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
John drew a long breath, feeling the weight of the years of silence pressing down upon him. “Because I’ve spent five years hiding from myself, from you, from what I feel. Because—” He stopped, and swallowed. “I need you to understand what you mean to me, even if you decide it’s not enough.”
The package looked small in her hands, inconsequential compared to the weight of what it contained. Every dark corner of his mind laid bare. Every moment of longing for her, written in ink that couldn’t be erased.
“I won’t ask you anything until you’ve read it,” he said. The words came out rougher than he intended, emotion straining his voice. “After you do . . . if you wish to speak to me, you’ll find me in the library tonight.”
Maddie studied his face, searching for something. Whatever she found made her clutch the journal tighter against her chest.
“And if I don’t appear?” she asked quietly.
The question cut him, but she deserved to make her own choices. “Then I’ll respect your decision. But I hope . . .” He stopped, unable to finish.
She nodded once, understanding what he couldn’t say. For a moment, she looked as if she might speak again, but then turned away from him, the package held close against her heart.
John watched her go as she carried their future in her hands.
Tomorrow was Christmas Day. A time for miracles, his mother used to say.
He’d never been a man who believed in such things, but tonight, standing alone in the glow of a single candle, hope burned in his chest. Then he closed his eyes, sealing the silent wish.
He imagined her in her chamber, opening the journal, reading his words.
Would she understand the depth of his regret?
Would she see he had been fighting not just grief but a darkness within himself that had threatened to consume everything?
Would she believe him when he wrote, over and over, that leaving her had been the greatest mistake of his life?
All he could do was wait, while he hoped his Christmas miracle would appear to him in the library in the middle of the night.