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  “We’re done?” she whispered.

  “Yes. You are of age and I can afford to support you. We’ll live on our own terms. Your father isn’t really going to send Penelope somewhere as dreadful as that school. I don’t believe it, but we’ll go to her father if necessary.”

  “I can’t just walk away from my engagement. John has expectations. It’s been announced.”

  She said the words, but her tone was hopeful. “It was a mistake. If he is having second thoughts as well, he’ll be grateful to you for backing out. No notice has gone to the papers, correct?”

  “No, I insisted we wait until he arrived in London.” She smiled tentatively.

  Lewis spotted a writing table against the wall and pointed to it. “Sit down, Victoria.”

  She took the pin from his hand and opened it.

  “No, leave the curl down. You’ll start a new fashion.”

  She shook her head ruefully and went to the table, seating herself in the straight-backed chair. “Who am I writing to?”

  “The baron, of course. Terminate the engagement, or at least tell him you need to see him right away.”

  She looked at him, humor in her gaze. “Why don’t I use the telephone? They have one at the Fort. You of all people should think to use the latest inventions.”

  “A letter is more permanent,” he said.

  “But a telephone call would be faster.”

  He could not help but be pleased by her eagerness. “Where is the instrument?”

  “In the butler’s pantry. I will see if I can make the call.” She stood so quickly that the chair rocked. He grabbed the back to keep it from falling over.

  When he moved to follow her, she put up her hand. “I need to have this conversation privately. I owe him that much.”

  “Very well.” He watched her walk out the door, then said, “Stop.”

  “What?”

  He pushed her gently against the back of the door, then knelt at her feet.

  “What?” she whispered again.

  “Marry me.”

  She set both hands on his head. “I would love to.”

  They stared at each other, and he knew they shared the same sense of unreality, the same feeling that Christmas had returned to their hearts.

  When she was gone, he stood against the fireplace, his arms crossed over his chest, head bowed, praying that the baron would not have some weapon of argument that won her back.

  A few minutes later, the door opened. He looked up, assuming her attempt to make the call had failed, but it was Penelope.

  She grinned at him. “Nanny likes the bird.”

  He forced himself to focus on the girl. “His name is Welly. Did I tell you that?”

  “Wishy,” she corrected. “I named him Wishy.”

  “Very well.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “Listen, Penelope, I’ve asked your Cousin Victoria to marry me.”

  “But she is marrying the baron.”

  “I’ve asked her to reconsider,” he stated. “Are you willing to live with me in Battersea instead of in Edinburgh?”

  Penelope considered. “Doesn’t Eddy live with you?”

  “Not in my house. He has a room on the property, however, above the machine shop, and takes his meals with me. Very independent-minded, that lad.” Now he was collecting another stray child.

  “Will you marry soon, so I don’t have to go away to school?”

  “As soon as I can manage,” he said. “I promise.”

  She nodded slowly. “You are nice enough, but you do silly things. Will you promise to be more careful in the future and not attempt to drown yourself ?”

  He chuckled at the prim cast of her mouth. “I promise. Your cousin would have my head if I did something so stupid again. After all, she’s already lost one husband. It wouldn’t do to repeat the experience.”

  “No, it certainly would not,” Penelope said, sounding much older than nine. “We are agreed, then.”

  He held out his hand and she gave it a small, businesslike shake. Then, she tossed her head and flew into his arms, her head pushing into his chest as she flung her arms around his midsection. He dug his heels into the carpet to keep from falling back a few steps as her weight collided with his.

  The door opened again and Victoria stood in the doorway, wiping at the corner of her eye with a finger. He lifted an inquiring eye at her, and she nodded.

  “It’s over. I told him I’d made a mistake, and he said he had, too.” She blinked.

  The room seemed to warm again as he gestured at her. She lifted her skirts and ran to him, a smile breaking out across her lovely face. Colliding into his side, she wrapped one arm around him and the other around Penelope, then tucked her face against his collarbone.

  “I’ve been alone a long time,” he said, squeezing her tighter with his free arm. “But no more. We’ll be married as soon as we can, so soon that we’ll be a scandal, but no one will mind when they see how in love we are.”

  “Exactly.” She tilted her face up to meet his. “We’ll make them all understand that this is the way it is meant to be.”

  “I love you, Victoria, my Christmas angel.” He took her chin in his hand just as she had done to him, but his fingers were warm, and her mouth under his was as fiery as pepper when he kissed her. His goddess resolved into a human woman again. “My wife.”

  By the time he lifted his head, Penelope had long since vanished. Victoria took his hand in both of hers, her flesh blood-warm now, and tugged slightly.

  “Come upstairs,” she whispered. “I have an engagement gift for you.”

  He knew what she meant by the hot look in her eyes alone. They had both made the right decision in the end, and as he followed her out of the room, her ringlet bouncing against her shoulder, he crunched hairpins under his boot heel without even noticing.

  About the Author

  Heather Hiestand was born in Illinois, but her family migrated west before she started school. Since then she has claimed Washington State as home, except for a few years in California. She wrote her first story at age seven and went on to major in creative writing at the University of Washington. Her first published fiction was a mystery short story, but since then it has been all about the many flavors of romance. Heather’s first published romance short story was set in the Victorian period and she continues to return, fascinated by the rapid changes of the nineteenth century. The author of many novels, novellas, and short stories, she is a bestseller at both Amazon and Barnes & Noble. With her husband and son, she makes her home in a small town and supposedly works out of her tiny office, though she mostly writes in her easy chair in the living room.

  For more information, visit Heather’s website at www.heatherhiestand.com.Heather loves to hear from readers! Her email is [email protected].

  Don’t miss the rest of the Redcakes series, already available where

  eBooks are sold!

  The Marquess of Cake

  One Taste of Scandal

  His Wicked Smile

  The Kidnapped Bride (novella)

  eKENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2014 by Heather Hiestand

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  eKensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  First Electronic Edition: November 2014

  eISBN-13: 978-1-60183-258-0

  eISBN-10: 1-60183-258-3

  ISBN: 978-1-6018-3258-0

 

 

 
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