Earl of Bergen: Wicked Regency Romace (Wicked Earls' Club Book 15) Page 10

  “Thomas, you do not have to offer marriage,” Elizabeth returned. Large tears ran down her cheeks as she spoke.

  He dabbed away the wetness and pulled her hands to his lips, placing kisses on the back of each.

  “I want you, Lizzie, yes. I hunger to take you for my own, but I realize that I want more than just your body to warm my blood. I want you to be part of my life for always.”

  “You want me forever?” She smiled through a new veil of tears. “No one has ever wanted me for my own sake.”

  “Then your husband was a fool! He neglected a remarkable woman. You are wonderful, Lizzie. Your children are wonderful.” He grinned. “I want to be the one who teaches Josiah to fish and handle a horse. I want to help keep the girls feeling safe and loved for who they are, and I want you, Lizzie Newton, to be my life’s partner.”

  “Yes.”

  “I do not want to start our life together by repeating their father’s actions, and in their home.” He stopped. “Wait! You said, ‘Yes’?”

  He stood up, his gaze on her beautiful face, hardly able to breathe. “Yes?”

  She nodded. “Yes! A thousand times, yes,” she whispered against his lips.

  “My dearest, I will do my best to make sure you will never be sorry.” He pulled her close and covered her lips with his own.

  The sound of footsteps in the hall startled them and they quickly separated. A moment later, dressed in her nightgown with a robe around her, Aunt Jane stuck her head inside the room.

  She winked at her niece. “Keeping him for yourself, are you, dearie?” She chortled and nodded, clearly pleased with her discovery.

  “A…Aunt Jane, you are mistaken…” Elizabeth stuttered, immediately looking away.

  “I think not, my child. Your red face tells me all I need to know!” She gave an excited chuckle.

  “Aunt Jane, if I may save my lady’s blushes…?” Bergen spoke up. “Lizzie has agreed to be my wife. I have asked her to marry me.”

  Without hesitation, Aunt Jane set down her candle and embraced her niece, hugging her tightly.

  “Gel, you have certainly picked a handsome one.” She turned to Bergen. “This gel has the heart of an angel. I am happy for both of you. When is the happy event?” She looked at each of them.

  They exchanged glances. Elizabeth’s mouth fell open in mock dismay.

  “Ah…we have not discussed a date, Aunt,” she said at length. “If it suits everyone, however, I should love to be married before the festivities end. Christmas has become my favourite time of year.”

  “Twelfth Night would be perfect! What a lovely idea to end this Christmas with your nuptials!” Aunt Jane slapped her hip, and smiled, clearly pleased. “This will be such wonderful news for the children. They have grown attached to this one.” She nodded wryly in Bergen’s direction. “I was considering him for myself, if the truth be known.” At this, she cackled loudly in evident delight. “Very well, my dears, I shall say goodnight.”

  Bergen waited until Jane’s footsteps had receded up the stairs. “I can foresee she will be a corky one to have hereabouts.” He grinned.

  “She can be difficult, but life is never boring with her in the house.” Elizabeth lifted her arms around his neck. “Kiss me once more before you leave.”

  “Gladly.” The smell of outdoors and lemon flooded his senses, and he felt his body quickly respond. He leaned down and met her lips in a kiss designed to leave her wanting more. To his intense satisfaction, she released her breath in a manner suggesting both contentment and longing.

  “I will return tomorrow. I hope the children will be as accepting as Aunt Jane.” Hugging her tightly, he kissed her head in a gentle affection belied by his previous passion.

  “You have already won their hearts,” she responded. “They will be in high ropes. You had better leave before I decide not to let you go.”

  “You can have no idea how tempted I am to stay, my dearest, but I wish our marriage to begin in the right way—for us as well as for the children.”

  “You spoke of my heart, but I do not know of any other gentleman who would accept another man’s illegitimate children and bring them up as his own.”

  “Well, I know a lady who has been doing so, and I happen to love her.”

  “You do?” Elizabeth blinked away a tear. “I love you, too.”

  His heart warmed. Never had he considered hearing those words would matter to him, but since meeting Elizabeth, the thought of marriage had kept slipping into his mind. In the beginning, he had easily managed to push such notions aside. Now, however, he could not imagine even wishing to do that.

  “I will leave early tomorrow and procure a special licence. I expect Shefford will probably go with me because he will not credit it.” He laughed. “I wonder how surprised he will be at our news.”

  The road back to the inn that night was bright under the pearly light of the moon. It gave Bergen time to think. His heart was so full of happiness. The day had been long, but to his thinking, it had been one of the best days of his life. He passed the mulberry bush where he had found Clarence and smiled. If not for that little donkey, none of this would have been possible. There were no voices coming from behind the bush tonight. Bergen heard only the song in his heart.

  Elizabeth awoke feeling she wanted to pinch herself. She threw back the covers and ran to the window with all of the giddiness of a child on Christmas morning. The ground was covered with white snow crystals, a perfect blanket as far as the eye could see. It was almost as if the scare of the day before had not happened. Last night had, however. She had not imagined Thomas down on one knee, asking her to become his wife, although such an occurrence was the stuff of dreams. With finger and thumb, she nipped her forearm. No, she was not dreaming. Long ago she had given up on finding love; it had seemed as if it was only something to read of in novels.

  Snuggling her wrapper around her and smelling the sweet, spicy aromas of festive baking which were drifting up from the kitchen, she smiled.

  “Please let it be real,” she whispered. The pitter-patter of little feet in the nursery above indicated the children were also awake and excited. Christmas Eve had not been typical, and she would try to make amends today.

  As Elizabeth was dressing for church, Marie came bursting into her room. “Mama! The wathailers are here! Hurry, come quickly!”

  Elizabeth smiled at the child’s exuberance and followed along. She had no doubt that the wassailers would not leave before they had received the handsome vails they were accustomed to from Newton Grange.

  In the wide sweep of the drive before the house, a group of merry villagers were singing, ‘Oh, come all ye faithful.’ The servants were handing out warm wassail and biscuits. Elizabeth was glad they had improvised and come this morning instead.

  “Look, Mama!” Josiah exclaimed. “There is Lord Bergen and Lord Shefford, carrying a tree! Why would they do such a thing? We already have a Yule log.”

  “I cannot imagine what he is about,” Elizabeth replied. “I will let him explain.”

  “Why do you have a tree, thir?” Marie asked with an adorable furrow in her brow.

  The wassailers parted to let Shefford and Bergen pass, and they shook the snow from the tree before walking into the house. The children watched, their eyes wide and full of curiosity.

  “This,” Bergen said as they set the large tree down with gasps of relief, “is a Christmas tree.”

  “Why do we need a tree in the house for Christmas?” Marie asked.

  “My grandmother was German, and this is one of their traditions. They bring a tree in and decorate it and put presents underneath it.”

  “Oh, I think I like that tradition,” she said in a decided fashion.

  Bergen smiled at her and then nodded to some servants who entered the room holding ribbons, candles and fruit.

  “You hang these things on the tree.” He nailed the tree to a makeshift stand, then took some decorations and demonstrated to the children.
/>   “It ith beautiful!”

  Elizabeth observed the scene and tried not to cry. This thoughtful man had given her family a Christmas these little ones would never forget.

  Shefford and Bergen were placing the decorations at the top of the tree, while the children filled the bottom branches. Elizabeth liked this tradition very much. The gentlemen were even singing with them. Then she heard a banging on the window pane, and there was Clarence, trying to join in the fun. She lifted the sash and he poked his nose inside so she could pet him. He seemed to dance along when the children attempted to sing, ‘Joy to the World.’

  Elizabeth’s heart was so full, she was sure it was bound to burst. The older ladies soon joined them, seeming to have made some sort of truce over their shared experience capturing one of the thieves the night before. Time would tell how long that would last.

  “Are we ready to break our fast?” Elizabeth suggested at length, in a vain attempt to gather the children. “Cook has prepared your favourites this morning!”

  “Wait a moment, please. Peters,” Bergen called to his man. “Have a seat, all of you, if you will. I have something for each of you.” He took a bag from his man and handed a package to each child.

  “Gifts on Christmas Day? Is this another German tradition?” Elizabeth asked, wondering when the man had had time to arrange all of this.

  “Just a token to show my appreciation, and yes, in a manner of speaking.”

  Josiah pulled out a beautiful, hand-carved bow and arrow set, and looked as if he would cry.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I thought you might enjoy hunting. You can help earn your keep,” Bergen told him with a teasing wink.

  “Ruth and Marie, these are for you.” They both opened their presents, which were beautiful dolls that looked like the girls themselves. They instantly hugged them to their bodies and smiled at Bergen.

  “Thank you, thank you, thir.”

  “Aunt Jane, this is for you.”

  She opened a box and withdrew a bright blue scarf. “My favorite colour! Thank you.”

  “Last, but not least, this is for you.” He held out a small fabric pouch, tied with a ribbon, to Elizabeth.

  She opened up the pouch to find a beautiful ruby and diamond ring.

  “It is the Bergen betrothal ring. Fortunately, Aunt Faith happened to have it with her. Children, your mama and I are going to be married—if I win your approval,” he said with a wry smile.

  “Oh, yeth!” Marie exclaimed.

  Ruthie nodded her head around her thumb, which was deep in her mouth.

  To Elizabeth’s astonishment, Josiah jumped up and gave Bergen a hug.

  It was hard to think about the real meaning of Christmas after such a morning, but the vicar gave an excellent sermon—despite Aunt Jane’s accusations—and they went home to partake of a feast of turkey, duck, plum pudding, marchpane and gingerbread.

  Chapter 10

  Bergen felt in his pocket and his fingers curled around a folded paper. The special licence. It had not been as quick as he had thought it would be to secure it, only because the bishop had been visiting two local parishes to perform seasonal services. It had delighted Bishop Stephens to hear of Bergen’s upcoming nuptials. The visit had been happy, but poignant at the same time, for he learned something he had not previously known. Bishop Stephens had been the parish priest who had married Thomas’ own parents. The bishop’s comportment throughout his visit, therefore, was not unlike an extension of Bergen’s own family, as the clergyman wanted to know all about the woman Bergen planned to marry as well as the latter’s motive for the marriage. Nothing seemed prohibited to Bishop Stephens. Recognizing the clergyman’s sincerity, his concern had moved Bergen. To find that it was to be a love-match settled the matter for the bishop, and he happily handed the special licence to Bergen.

  Hearing stories of his parents only reminded him how much he still missed their laughter and the wonderful joy experienced in heart and soul when he had been in their presence. His heart faltered on the memory. Realizing he needed to shake off this melancholy, he looked over at Shefford, who had gone with him, and now seemed to be almost nodding to sleep.

  “Shefford!” he said sharply. “Must I prod you to wake you, friend?”

  “Wake me? I have been waiting for you to travel back to me, Bergen. You have worn the same distant look ever since we left Bishop Stephens. Are you having doubts, mon ami?”

  “No. Remarkably, I am very excited—something I never thought I would be over becoming leg-shackled. I apologize for my distance. He spoke of my parents. With their deaths being so sudden and recent, I am afraid it got the better of me. I fear I must have the sensibilities of an old woman.” As his friend chuckled, Bergen reached into an inner pocket, extracted the licence and waved it at Shefford. “Let us indeed be merry!” He carefully replaced the document and felt his mood elevate at the same time. “Thank you for going to London with me, Colin. You are a good friend and I appreciate your company more than words can say.”

  Shefford moved his horse closer. “Bergen, you have always been like a brother to me. I can say now, that when your aunt contacted me and told me of her plans to flush out this wanton widow from your life, I knew you would need reinforcements. I also wanted to make sure you were well,” he admitted sheepishly. “I like Lizzie and her children, but I am most amused by Clarence. The donkey seems almost human.”

  “Yes, he has reminded me of that fairy tale about the frog prince—you know, the prince who irritated a witch and she turned him into a frog. Then, to find that he carries with him a rock that makes you tell the truth—it only added to the amusement.”

  They both laughed uproariously.

  “The truth is always better. Perhaps we should pass it to your Aunt Faith and find out what the real story is between her and Lizzie’s aunt.” Shefford’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “Now, that would be amusing!” Bergen nodded thoughtfully. “I may just do that!” He nudged Merry and they covered the remaining distance from London with greater celerity. The wedding would be this afternoon and he had much to do.

  “We are almost there. Clear skies, brisk weather, and licence in hand…I could be wrong but this trip was quicker than yesterday’s—only a few hours. Do you mind if we stop at the inn and call on Aunt Faith? We could also do with a bite to eat. I am not due at the church until almost noon. I do not want to arrive too early and throw Elizabeth’s household into an uproar. She has enough to deal with already, organizing the children and Aunt Jane.” Bergen sniggered.

  “Yes… I am wondering if that woman has set her cap for the vicar.” Shefford looked over at him, a serious air about him. “I am all for people finding happiness and I have not missed the glances he gives her.”

  “I believe you are right, but I do not plan to interfere. Aunt Faith was also showing some interest, although I am strongly of the suspicion she is doing it to irritate her friend. Therein is another reason I would love to tease out the history between the two.” Bergen smirked. He loved his aunt, but her meddling had always nettled him and the thought of turning the tables in fun was irresistible. She was his favourite relative, and he was sure she would see the sport in his game.

  Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the inn and dismounted, handing the reins of their mounts to Perry.

  “My lord, welcome back. Your aunt has the inn hopping this morn.” He smiled and then bit his lip. “I apologize, my lord. I forgot my place and misspoke.”

  Bergen grinned. “It is already forgotten, Perry. My aunt has a forcible effect on people, especially when she is on a crusade.” He reached into his pocket and handed a shilling to the young ostler. “Thank you for your good care of Merry. Our horses have been to London and back these past two days. Please give them a thorough rub down and a mash.”

  “Thank you, my lord. I will see to them, all right and tight.” Perry gave him an impish smile. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

  “Yes,
thank you.” It would be the best of days. I am getting the woman of my dreams, he thought, overcome with happiness.

  The two men made their way into the inn. Alice, his aunt’s maid, met them at the door.

  “Oh! My lords!” She made a quick curtsey. “Your aunt, my lord, is waiting for you in the parlour. She pointed to the private parlour behind her. At the same moment, there was the sound of breaking glass.

  “Damn it! Now it is all over my dress. Bumbling idiot!” They walked into the room to find Aunt Faith fuming over a pool of spilled tea. The parlour was otherwise empty.

  “Aunt?” Bergen stepped up behind her and gave her a warm kiss on the cheek. “May we help?”

  “Oh! I apologize, my dears. I am afraid my good manners have exited this morning and my clumsiness has taken over.” His aunt looked up at him tearfully.

  “Aunt Faith! What has you so out of sorts?” Bergen was immediately concerned.

  “I am so sorry. It is mere foolishness. I was thinking of your dear mother and father and how happy they would be to for you today. Then I became maudlin and dropped my cup of tea. I have ruined my dress and there is not enough time to clean it. It was my season favourite.” He had never seen his aunt so upset.

  “Aunt Faith, my parents have been on my mind also,” he said, holding her tightly, “I believe they are with us still.” He held her out from him and tried to look stern. “You know what Father would say if he heard you cursing.” Bergen tried not to laugh. He knew his aunt employed the language of the stables on occasion when she was upset, and had done so for as long as he could remember.

  “I want the day to be perfect…and then there is Jane. I cannot let her look…better than I. There, I said it; but I will never admit to such a thing, even with witnesses.” She winked through her tears at Shefford.

  Bergen felt a heel for even considering tricking this wonderful lady with that truth stone. “Aunt Faith, I know the ways of you ladies well enough to know you will have brought trunks full of dresses. I am sure you will have one which will take the place of this one.” He smiled impudently at his aunt.