Then he continued. “For most of my life things have come easily for me. Until the past two years. My father died. Our family fortune was gone. Then I lost you.” He turned to her, his eyes full of warmth. “I had to reach rock bottom before I could climb back. That night at Vauxhall I was too proud to ask for your hand when I had nothing to give you in return. Now I realize my deuced pride has kept me from that which is most important to meâyou. I've been tormented that you'd find someone else.”
Then he did still care! She melted into his arms and found his lips crushing against hers, his tongue thrusting, his arms tightening against her back. She exulted in his touch. Being hereâin his armsâwas her destiny. It was foolish to fight it.
After he had thoroughly kissed her, he settled her head against his chest and combed his fingers through her dark hair. “I can't let you get away from me again. Not ever. I vow if you will but honor me with your affection I will work harder than any man has ever worked in order to be worthy of you, to restore the Agar properties.”
“Is this a proposal, then?”
He swallowed. “I have nothing to offer now, save my name and my heart.”
“Your heart is all I could ever desire. But . . . you know my family backgroundâ”
“Were you the spawn of a stable hand, I would still love you. I will go to my grave loving you. It's I who am not good enough for you.”
“There's no one else I could ever love.”
He held her at arm's length and peered into her face. “Then will you honor me by becoming my wife?”
“I will.”
The next kiss was far more tender than the first. When it was finished, he asked, “Pray, my love, what is your Christian name?”
“Verity.”
He smiled. “Lovely. Just like you. I beg that you call me Randolph.”
Then they heard the sound of the front door opening. She placed her hand in his. “Come, my dearest, that must be my brother, Adam. We must tell all of them our good news.”
When they walked into the hall they saw it was Nicholas Birmingham, not Adam, who had arrived. His black eyes on the kissing bough over the door to the drawing roomâand on Fiona who stood beneath itâhe strode the length of the hall, then pulled his wife into his arms and settled his lips on hers.
Chapter 28
A man besotted over his mistress did not kiss his wife as Nick had just kissed her.
Still reeling from the powerful kiss, Fiona held Nick's hand to ground herself. She was possessed of the most dismaying feeling that she had taken flight. Nick was here! Nick had kissed her with deep passion. Nick had
chosen
to spend his Christmas with her. He'd even brought Emmie. No Christmas could ever be so wonderful!
She was far too happy to wipe the smile from her face as she gazed up at the husband she adored.
“Happy anniversary, my love,” he said, squeezing her hand.
My love!
Could any Christmas gift be more welcome? “I'm very touched that you remembered.” Then she turned her attention to Emmie, who stood in the hallway with one hand clutching the doll Fiona had given her, the other stuffed into the ermine muff. “Come, love, you must allow your mother and father to kiss you beneath the kissing bough,” Fiona said.
Squealing with delight, the child scurried to them and climbed up into Nick's arms as both her parents kissed her rosy cheeks.
Fiona wished to savor this moment of complete happiness surrounded by all those she loved. Her gaze swept from Trevor to Stephen, then to Randy and Verity, who looked every bit as happy as she. She knew at once that Verity had accepted Randy's offer. “Is there to be an announcement from my brother?” she asked, her smile impossible to dispel.
“Indeed there is,” Randolph said. He met Nick's gaze. “I would be honored to have your blessing.”
Nick gave him a quizzing look.
“Your wonderful sister has done me the goodness of accepting my offer of marriage.”
“But . . .” Nick glanced from Verity to Randolph. He had not been aware that the two of them knew one another, but to look at them was to know that they were deeply in love. “You, of course, have my blessing. We can speak later, Agar.”
As the others collapsed around the betrothed couple, Nick watched Fiona stroke Emmie's warm brown hair. “I'm so glad you've come, pet,” Fiona said. “You can help your mama decorate the windows with holly.”
“Could you give me a hand with a yule log?” Stephen asked Nick.
Nick's eyes glistened with happiness. “It will be my pleasure.”
His heart swelled as he watched Emmie and Fiona hurry off to the front parlor.
Just as he lighted the log a few minutes later, Adam arrived with Nick's mother. “Happy Christmas, Mother. Come sit near the fire where you can get warm,” he said with concern.
He could hear Fiona's and Emmie's laughter in the next room, and he glowed with the happiness of knowing he was surrounded by all his loved ones. Save one. His worry over William marred an otherwise perfect Christmas.
Once he helped the females wrap the bannister in a garland of fresh boxwood, all of them sat around the fire of the yule log and conversed amiably. Even his normally cranky mother was exceptionally hospitable. “I've brought the child a gift,” she said gruffly. Turning to Emmie, she said, “But you can't open it until the Lord's birthday tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Grandmama,” Emmie said in a wispy voice. “This is my favorite Christmas ever.”
As it was Nick's. Even if William wasn't here. Damn but he worried about the fellow.
It was just past ten when Trevor bid everyone good night. “I'm utterly fatigued.”
“But you've not left your cozy chair all day!” Fiona teased.
“You forget, my sweet,” Trevor answered, “how delicate my health is.”
After Simpson left, Nick could barely manage the wait until his own bedtime, when he could be alone with the woman he loved above everyone.
Taking the cue from Trevor, Adam rose and offered his hand to his mother. “I'd best get you back to Great Acres. It grows chillier by the hour.”
“And I need to show you to your room,” Fiona said to Randy.
Just when Adam opened the exterior door to leave, Nick looked up to see William standing there under the portico. “Happy Christmas!” William said.
Now
, thought Nick,
it will be a perfect Christmas.
The happiest ever.
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After Nick had spoken privately with William in his library and learned the details of his brother's release, William left for Great Acres. And Nick mounted the stairs to Fiona's room, drawing up to her door and tapping it with his knuckles.
“Nick?” she asked softly.
His heartbeat tripped. “Yes.”
“Come in.”
He stepped into the dark chamber that was lit by a yellow circle of light from a bedside candle, relieved that her maid had gone. His gaze traveled to his beautiful wife. She sat on the edge of the bed, covered only by her thin lawn nightshift. The room was cold, so cold that her fair skin twinged blue and her nipples pricked the soft gown. “I hoped you would come to me,” she said in a husky whisper.
At no moment in his life had he ever been filled with more happiness. His very loins ached with the realization that she wanted him to make love to her. He moved to her, never taking his eyes from her. “I wish to make love to you,” he said as he came to stand before her and peer down at her loveliness, “but first we must talk.”
He sat beside her and drew her hand into his, her left hand with its simple golden band. That she chose to wear so plain a symbol of their unity filled him with pride. “I think perhaps you were upset when I so hurriedly left London?”
It tore at his heart to see her eyes begin to water. “Even more upset when I learned you did
not
go to Essex.”
“You were right to be angry. Husbands and wives should not have secrets from one another. I was concealing something from you, my darling.” He paused to brush away a tear that spilled from her eye. “Not another woman. Never that.”
She looked up at him with reddened eyes. “Then what?”
“I had vowed to never reveal the nature of William's work for our Foreign Office. That's why I was forced to lie to you. When I so suddenly left London, it was because William's life was in peril.”
“The French?”
“Yes.”
“Surely you know I would never reveal a confidence. Especially if it would jeopardize your brother.”
He fingered her golden wedding band. “I do now. I realize I've made a huge blunder with our marriage.”
“Me too.”
Her words gave him hope. He withdrew a small velvet box from his pocket.
“I don't want any more jewels, Nicholas Birmingham.”
“But this one's special.” He opened the box. There on a bed of satin was a diamond pendant shaped like a heart. He handed it to her. “Happy Christmas. I want you to take my heart. Even if you still love Warwick, I'm begging that you give me a chance to earn your love.”
Her eyes widened. “Warwick? You can't possibly believe I love him.”
Nick frowned as his pulse accelerated. He would have to confront her. Even if it was Christmas Eve. Even if it was their first wedding anniversary. “I saw you together one afternoon in Whitehall. When I asked you about it that night, you lied.”
She collapsed against him, sobbing. “For-for-forgive me, my love, for lying,” she whimpered between sobs. “I'd merely gone to Warwick to learn Randy's direction.” She drew in a deep breath. “I lied because I did not wish for you to know of my estrangement from my brother.”
His hands traced sultry circles on her back. “Because I was the cause of it?”
She nodded.
“Sit back up, my love. I want you to wear my heart.” He fastened the pendant's chain around the smooth column of her neck, then drew in a deep breath. “You truly
don't
love Warwick?”
“Truly.” Her soft blue eyes caressed him. “I stopped loving him before we married.”
“I regret that I never told you how much I love you. Will you give me the chance to win your love?”
A sweet smile softened her somber face. “You can't possibly win it.”
His heartbeat stampeded.
“You already own it.” She gazed lovingly into his eyes. “I've been in love with you for a very long time, Nicholas Birmingham.”
“A very long time?”
“I think perhaps since that night at the theatre. Before I asked you to marry me. It took me all of a month after that to realize I'd completely lost my heart to you.”
He tugged her to his chest, wrapping both arms around her. “I have a confession to make myself.”
She stroked the dark stubble of his cheek. “What?”
“I knew I loved you that day in my office.”
“The day I proposed?” she asked with a laugh.
“That very day. Once I kissed you, my passionate love, I knew for sure.”
No Christmas had even been more magical. A grin pinched into her cheeks. “Then I suggest you prove it, Mr. Birmingham.”
And he eased her back into the mattress.