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“HAVE YOU BEEN KISSED?”
His question seemed to startle her. “I don’t know how you mean.”
“Tonight. Have you been kissed?” he ground out.
“Henry would never take such liberties. He is a gentleman,” she said, lifting her head imperiously.
The relief he felt was staggering, and extremely disconcerting. “I’m very glad to hear it,” he said.
With one quick motion, he pulled her to him, giving her perhaps two seconds to scream her protest before pressing his lips against hers.
MARRYCHRISTMAS
JANE GOODGER
ZEBRA BOOKS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Newport, Rhode Island, 1892
“I was thinking of a Christmas wedding,” her mother said, as casually as if she were ordering consommé for luncheon from cook.
Elizabeth suppressed a gasp. Her mother detested any show of defiance, but she simply could not allow this. “I haven’t even met him, Mother.” Remarkable how calm she could be when she wanted to scream.
Alva Cummings pursed her lips and placed her correspondence to the side, a sign of her extreme displeasure. Each morning, Elizabeth had to suffer an audience with her mother, a tedious and cutting recounting of her performance the previous day. And today, it seemed, they were again talking about Elizabeth’s marriage to the ninth Duke of Bellingham. “As you know, whether you have met His Grace or not is of little consequence. Instead of arguing with me, you should be thanking me. You will be a duchess. Think of it. A duchess.”
But all Elizabeth could think of was Henry, the only man she would ever love. Something in her face must have betrayed her thoughts, for her mother turned her full attention to her nineteen-year-old daughter.
“Sit up straight, Elizabeth. Must you always slouch?”
Elizabeth pulled her body impossibly tighter.
“As a duchess you will be looked upon by everyone as setting the standard for behavior. Despite your average looks,” she said cruelly, “the duke has agreed to visit us in Newport where I expect he will propose. And you will agree. I cannot fathom your complete selfishness in this regard. You know your father would benefit immensely and yet you continue to resist this and all other attempts we have made to raise your position in society.”
Elizabeth stared at her mother. “My position?” she asked, so angry she told herself she didn’t care if she raised her mother’s ire. But of course she did, and when her mother’s eyes hardened to crystal, her entire body was shot with fear.
“You ungrateful little girl. Yes. Your position. This match is coveted by every mother—and daughter—here and in England. It is what we have worked on, hoped for, prayed for. And you can sit there and whine to me because your childish heart has been foolishly given to a fortune hunter. It’s disgusting and beneath you, Elizabeth.”
“He is a good man,” she said softly.
“He is a scoundrel. He has had numerous affairs with several married women and it is common knowledge that he has been on the hunt for an heiress for years. And there is rumor of madness in the family. A second cousin or such. And I won’t have any mad grandchildren.”
Elizabeth shut her mother out, knowing it was all lies. The best thing for her to do now was pretend to be an obedient daughter, even though her heart sang with a rebellion so strong she could hardly contain it. “I don’t wish to talk about this any longer,” Elizabeth said.
“Nor do I. Then it is settled.” Her mother glared at her as if she could somehow see the secrets in her heart.
“It is,” Elizabeth said, knowing she was not lying. For in her heart, her life was settled, though it wasn’t the life her mother was envisioning. Henry was the only man she would marry, and if the Duke of Bellingham came to Newport and asked to marry her she would simply decline. For now, though, it would be better to appease her mother, to keep her secret safe in her heart. She would marry Henry, for he had asked and she had agreed.
They had been bike riding in New York on Riverside Drive with her two best friends and their mothers, as well as Henry and two other young men. Already her mother had suspected Henry’s interest in her and tried to discourage it, but it was far too late. Two weeks before, Elizabeth and Henry rode ahead, hearts racing, faces alight with mischievousness as they left the others behind, ignoring her mother’s shrill voice urging them to slow down.
They’d stopped, out of breath and laughing. “Marry me, Elizabeth. We’ll elope before your mother can protest. Don’t say a word to anyone. We’ll manage it somehow. Say yes, my love.”
Elizabeth wanted to throw her arms around Henry and dance about with him, but her mother was coming near, her face red with the exertion of trying to catch up with the two. They spoke in hurried whispers, for the Cummings were leaving for Newport the very next day.
“Yes. Yes, I will. Oh, Henry, I’m so happy.”
“Nothing could keep
