The Wrong Earl For Christmas Read online

  The Wrong Earl For Christmas

  Rebecca Dash

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 - Miss Elizabeth Harris

  Chapter 2 - The Earl Of Bainford

  Chapter 3 - Finding Truth

  Chapter 4 - The Man From Lortan

  Chapter 5 - Love And Starlight

  Chapter 6 - The Wishful

  Chapter 7 - Happy Christmas

  Let’s Stay In Touch

  Chapter 1

  Miss Elizabeth Harris

  Snow fell over the English countryside, making the rolling hills look untrodden and peaceful. Inside the large home, Elizabeth could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as anger coursed through her. The spirit of Christmas was nowhere to be found right then. Their words were like fire, she knew there would be no end to this.

  “It is only marriage,” said her mother.

  “That is no small thing.”

  “A dilemma can only be as big as you make it.”

  “That is clearly not so.”

  Her family tried to comfort her, like the union was something she would someday see as nothing. They knew very well it was not nothing. It was a binding agreement of the most serious nature after which her world could never be the same. Her life would be over in a matter of months.

  As a child, Elizabeth listened to stories about falling in love, and how the princess would always get the man she dreamed of. But those were only stories. Love did not matter. Honor mattered. Wealth and title mattered. Anything but love, it would seem. Her dowry was not as high as some, but as the only girl, with brothers who did not want her as their burden, she should have known an arrangement would be made soon, whether she liked it or not. Especially since her younger brother had gotten married.

  “Please be reasonable.” Her mother spoke as calmly as she could but it was clear she was growing impatient. “I have proven to be quite the matchmaker when I put my mind to it. Your brother, Charles, was not like this. He accepted my recommendation. And his wife knew at once how happy he would make her. Your husband will do the same for you. I would not arrange something to make your life miserable. It is to ensure your future well being, and that of your children.”

  “I will not marry him. Or anyone for that matter. I will be a spinster and live in a hole before I marry a man I have never met, only based on your best intentions. And I do not understand how you can do this at all while we plan for Christmas Eve. Am I not under enough stress organizing the celebration?”

  Her mother gasped at the strong reaction. Her father had been quiet while the two of them argued back and forth. He was staring into the candlelight on the table. Occasionally he would pick at some dry bread on his plate. With a clear of his throat he announced his presence and looked up at Elizabeth. He had tired eyes.

  “You will never speak to your mother in that manner again,” he said softly but in a firm tone.

  “Then I may never speak.”

  “Leave the table if you cannot control yourself tonight.”

  Elizabeth closed her mouth before any rebuttal escaped. It was too near Christmas Day for cruelty and discord. She had no desire to argue with either of her parents. She just wanted to choose a future for herself.

  Elizabeth held her breath as she got up and walked out toward the stairs. Tears clouded her vision as she stepped beyond view of the table. She leaned against the wall in the hallway and slid to the ground, letting the cool, salty drops trickle across her cheeks. Her efforts to stop what was coming were useless. Maybe someday she would learn to forgive her parents for thrusting it upon her when there was still a guest list to make up for the party, a menu to prepare, and decorations to think about. Maybe she would forgive them for having promised her away to a man already. But that would take time. As she sat in silence, everyone else continued their meal. Her youngest sibling, little Henry was most likely still staring at his plate in stunned silence. The boy should not have witnessed that.

  “Mama, is my sister going to be a bad lady?”

  Henry’s small voice felt like a knife inside Elizabeth’s chest, pushing the air from her lungs. She knew what the question meant. He was old enough to notice them, the older women at the market who always walked alone with their baskets of bread and flowers. They are cruel and mean to those around them because they have been treated so poorly in life. They have no husbands to take care of them and have to get by however they are able.

  One of them had recently grabbed Henry by the arm and shouted at him for stepping on her flowers. He’d been afraid of them all ever since. And was now afraid that his only sister would share that fate. Elizabeth hoped it would not come to that. She brought her knees up to her chest as she leaned against the wall and listened. Her mother’s voice was shaky as she responded.

  “Oh darling, your sister is upset right now. The time will come when she realizes how important this engagement is. She will understand. Do not worry.”

  “I heard my friend say Elizabeth is more like a boy than a girl. That she even rides a horse like a boy! And is always sneaking around alone with men.”

  Elizabeth almost smiled at the innocent way he spoke, but his words would hound her to no end.

  “Is that so?” said her father. “We will have to put a stop to it. There are rules in this world.”

  Not all of it was false. Elizabeth rode horses like the men because it seemed as if it were a more practical way to ride. However, she was not off running around alone with various fellows. Sometimes she would sneak away, escaping any attempt to chaperone her. But there were no throngs of gentlemen waiting for her company. Just one. Gareth was the same age as her brother, Charles. The three of them would play for hours together as children. Elizabeth would read with them, imagine with them, and dream with them.

  As they grew older, there was no longer time for all of them to be together. But it was something she could never let go of as hard as she once tried. Her parents would not approve. Neither would her brother. Gareth was handsome, smart, and witty as could be. But he was not the man she was destined to marry. They were the best of friends.

  Chapter 2

  The Earl Of Bainford

  He imagined Elizabeth with her hazelnut hair and green eyes. The happy face he would see as she climbed through the broken window of the library that had long been closed. Charles was the one who shattered the glass when they were children and lead the way as they claimed their own magical kingdom to play in. Now, over a decade later, it still had magic left because it was a secret that few people knew. Good secrets became an increasingly precious commodity the older they got. The abandoned library was perfect for people who wanted to hide away from the world. It was warm there, even in the winter, because of all the sun it got. Their memories were stored there, always waiting for them to return, and more vivid than many of the books that used to occupy those shelves.

  The wooden swords they had lovingly crafted out of sticks and string were still around. On many an afternoon, Gareth had been a privateer or highwayman. Elizabeth was never good at playing the damsel in distress though. Half the time, she took up arms against him herself, leaving Charles with no one to save. A collection of scarves and hats was also still there. They had grabbed them off the streets in town on days when the wind blew as hard as it was right then and whisked t
hem away from people. It was a wardrobe for their fantasies. There was even a large stack of books left behind. They’d read them all together. When they got to an age beyond childish games, they would read and talk about life. Perhaps one they hadn’t really lived yet. Everything was still untouched in that place. It used to give him such joy.

  Now, walking around in the dusty, old library all he felt was pain. The disappointment that came after their happy threesome disbanded was nothing compared to what faced him. Elizabeth was his. He had always imagined and hoped she would be, anyway, but he had waited too long. His days of being a candidate for her to marry were gone. The chance may never have been there to begin with. They had always been the best of friends. After a while, it was difficult to be anything else.

  They were all beyond their twenty-fifth birthdays by then. Gareth had declined any offer to marry. He wanted to wait until she was ready to be his. It was too late. His stomach rolled at the thought of Elizabeth being in the arms of another man, holding her, kissing her, touching her. It was unbearable for him.

  There was the crunching sound of footsteps in the snow outside. His mind cleared as she slipped through the window as gracefully as ever, dress pulled up to her knees to keep from falling. Finally, she landed there in front of him. Her green dress matched those enchanting eyes. The deep hue of a lush forest full of life, exactly like her.

  “Imagine finding you here, Lord Bainford,” she smiled. “I thought our tiny hamlet was much too quaint for a well traveled man.”

  “Lord Bainford now? You know I always come back home for Christmas, Miss Harris.”

  “I feel older when you call me that.”

  “We are all older now, Elizabeth.”

  “We do not have to be. These clandestine meetings in our hidden place help us to be who we have always been to one another.”

  “Do you find it to be more interesting than a morning call?”

  “Don’t you? The idea of you politely sipping tea while I play the harp-lute for amusement is laughable.”

  “I would welcome the experience,” he said. “But only if you sing as well.”

  “I am sure you have not come all this way to hear me massacre a song. You are a very important man these days who hardly leaves London.”

  “You are the one who is late.”

  “My parents have been keeping a closer watch on me lately. It took a while to get out.”

  “There you are. If I paid a visit to your home as a normal person might, we would not have to deal with such hardships.”

  Elizabeth groaned as she sat next to him on a table. “But we would have to deal with the hardship that is normalcy. That is a far worse condition. I might really have to call you Lord Bainford.”

  “Ah, the tragedy of titles.”

  “I want it to be as it always has been between us. Everything else must change, but not that. Have you flipped through any of our old books while you waited?”

  He did not respond, being far too lost in the way her lips moved as she spoke. He hung on every word, listening to the dulcet tone of her voice. It was alluring and soft, even with harsh sentiments. Their relationship could not change. She didn’t want it to.

  “Gareth?”

  He jumped up from the table. If he sat beside her any longer, he would have wrapped his arms around her. But she was not his to hold.

  “I did not look through any books,” he said. “I did not know if you would come this time.”

  “We always meet here when you are back.”

  “But now you have the ideas of another gentleman to consider. One who may not view this in so innocent a way.”

  “You have heard the news already?”

  “It travels quickly through tiny hamlets.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I have been trying to talk my parents out of this until my breath goes weak. It has been days and I still cannot. The entire thing is wrong. The idea, the man, the timing of it. I have a Christmas celebration to plan and do not need anything to cloud my thoughts.”

  “I have heard it will be the event of the year. But I never thought you had an interest in plans of such magnitude.”

  “You do hear a lot. My mother thinks it is high time I arrange these things on my own. That if I am to make a good wife, it is a necessary skill. I think she is trying to keep me distracted so I do not ruin her matchmaking.”

  “Do you know anything about your future husband?”

  “Only pieces I have overheard. She is being very secretive. It is infuriating. He is a lord. From Lortan, of all places.”

  “That is not too far away.”

  “I wish it were on the moon. You know what the men from Lortan look like.” She cupped her face in her hands and groaned.

  “Your children will have the complexion of lumpy potatoes.” If Gareth could not change what was happening, the least he could do was bring humor into it.

  Elizabeth picked up one of the small, stick swords that had not been touched in years and brought the hilt up to her face. “I demand satisfaction for your careless words.”

  “Find something to wrap their faces in. That should be very satisfying.”

  “Oh, really?” she laughed. “I will not have lumpy children!”

  Elizabeth swung the sword at him. Gareth leaped out of the way then dove toward his own stick sword. He parried her next thrust as he regained balance. They sparred against each other like they used to, laughing inside their small hiding place. But it wasn’t like before. Those green eyes were mesmerizing.

  The rumors about the gentlemen of Lortan were the worst kind. They were all bald, fat, and careless in the way they dressed. They enjoyed their wine too much and their wives too little. In truth, Gareth had never seen an exceptionally ugly man from there, but it was fun to bother her about the possibility. It was good to hear her laugh. It made him feel like he was floating.

  “Three eyes and a button for a nose,” he teased.

  The swing of her stick landed across Gareth’s arm, breaking his grip on his own sword. It fell to the floor, and she grabbed it. Elizabeth was smiling. He put his hands up in surrender.

  “That would only be if I had your children,” she said.

  “What an idea. Am I that bad looking?”

  “You are quite agreeable, but horrific with a sword, Lord Bainford.”

  “The benefits of a first class education, Miss Harris. It lacks emphasis on certain aspects of a martial nature. I bet I can beat any man in Lortan though.”

  “I would be more worried about the women if I were you.”

  “For you, I would duel them as well.”

  “I believe you really would.”

  It was silent for a few moments. The mood changed. Both swords clunked on the floor where she dropped them. Elizabeth fell back against a wall then slid down it, sitting all curled up into a ball. Her head dropped into her knees and Gareth saw her turn from the strong woman he knew she was, into something far more fragile.

  He did the first thing that came to mind, sitting beside her and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Elizabeth rested her head on him. Her tears seeped through the muslin of his shirt. Gareth wore a tan cravat tied with intricate knots around the collar. Her hand pressed against it on his chest right before she reached all the way around him to hold on. Elizabeth’s lips were right at his neck. Her cool breath sent prickles up and down his arms. He hugged her tighter, and she fell deeply into him.

  “Why can I not marry you?” she whispered.

  Those words shook him like a punch to the stomach. The air swept from his body and the world spun.

  “I never thought it would please you,” he said.

  “You never asked.”

  “I waited far too long.”

  “We spoke about it once, before you left for school. But you never asked outright.”

  “I was young. That was a lifetime ago. It is nothing more than a dream now.”

  “It was such a pretty one.”

  Chapter 3
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br />   Finding Truth

  To protest the impending marriage, Elizabeth refused to go home for several days. There were no more wedding plans being made as she was trying her hardest to escape the entire situation. Worse yet, Christmas festivities were postponed until she returned as all the planning for that fell upon her.

  She stood in the dining room of her brother’s large house. The walls were red and decorated with paintings of white poppy flowers. There were dozens of them hanging in their golden frames. Real flowers were in vases all around the room. Bouquets on every surface. It smelled of honey and ginger in there. This was definitely not the house she imagined Charles would live in, but it made his wife happy. By the look in his eyes when he was with her that made him happy too. Everything became clear as she watched them together. The extent to which it was possible to find happiness in another person was astonishing.

  Melony was a beautiful girl, both inside and out. Charles had the same kind of choices to make about the rest of his life, not all that long ago, and things seemed to have worked well. Although the decor in the dining room was definitely not his taste, Melony turned out to be the perfect woman to balance him. And their parents had found her. Their mother was the real matchmaker in the family, always busy planning love lives for her children. It could work out. This looked like love.

  But Elizabeth was far from confident in who her parents might choose. Doubts were awful, nagging things. Especially since her mother was being so secretive about it all. Elizabeth could admit she was a hard woman to love. A girl that would still rather play at war with makeshift swords than engage in polite conversation over tea. And she never did figure out how to keep from spilling things on her dresses during dinner. She felt like quite the wreck. What sort of man could they have found? And if all those things were wrong with her, how much was wrong with him?

  He would have to look past her unladylike behavior as well as try to turn her into a more doting wife. Elizabeth could sense that she would not be a natural doter. Not unless she had the full ability to choose her own destiny. Gareth was the first gentleman who came to mind. She quite enjoyed how he looked. His hair was the color of dry wheat, and his eyes were a cloudy gray. He had five freckles on his face, three on his left cheek and two on his right. She always teased him for the way it made him look young. He was annoying and witty at the same time. Her thoughts were frequently of him. Though he never showed true interest in her. Saying pretty things in passing was easy enough for them both. But it was action that mattered. Their friendship was far too important to risk rejection on that.